That Don’t Impress Me Much : Part 27

  • Post category:Writing

Wordcount: 582 words
Rating/Warnings: PG-13
Summary: In which May discovers that everyone meets their foxhawks differently.

NOTE: This is the first draft of a story, so it will most likely contain plot holes, retcons, and other inconsistencies. I’ll come back and fix things once the story (or arc) is complete!

< Previous | Index | Next >


Being Chosen vs. Choosing

May works the subject into their conversation, of how the others felt when they were chosen. Her own bonding goes against so many of the songs and stories and she’s wondering if anyone else is sharing the same confusion.

It turns out that they are not.

“It was just like the songs!” Clarie bubbled, “She stopped in front of me and I met her eyes and she met mine and there was this spark,” she flung her arms wide and one of the cart horses flicked an ear back in mild concern. “It felt so right, so perfect, it was like there was a piece of me that had been missing that I’d finally found. Did not even know I was missing it!”

The others nodded in agreement.

“Then she told me her name, Softpaw, and I could hear her talking to me only there was not any noise– but I was expecting that, they all do that. And Softpaw is such a lovely name, fits her too with those fluffy white paws, no clue how she keeps them so clean.”

“It was the same for me,” Jeffery added, “Only I had this dream that there was someone waiting for me at the top of the hill. Been having it on and off for a year now, but I thought it was just fancy. Then I got here, and, well, it was not. Swift just nudged my arm and As soon as I turned and looked at him I knew this was right, this was mean to be. Never thought I’d be chosen, never even crossed my mind save for when I was little. I think everyone dreams a bit when they’re little.”

Tom laughed, “Speak for yourself, I never stopped dreaming! I always hoped that this would happen and Dog, well Dog is everything I ever hoped for. He’s witty and sharp and I’ve never seen someone so perfect.”

“Dog’s a funny name though,” Erwin pointed out, “No offense of course,” he apologized to the foxhawk, who gave him an annoyed look. “Well, it’s– most of you are named something like ‘Fire’ or ‘Brave’ or ‘Spot’.” It was Softpaw’s turn to glare at him. “You are!”

“Dog means noble and loyal and fearless and full of unconditional love.” Tom said. “It means helpmate and guardian, protector and defender, and he’d like you to know that Erwin means nothing at all and he thinks human names make even less sense.” Tom sounded amused, but there was a bit of steel in his voice and Erwin finally relented.

“Fine, fine, I give up.”

“My name means fast.” Swift added randomly, including the whole group in his mental broadcast. “I like to go fast, I am good at going fast.” He puffed his crest feathers proudly.

May almost rolled her eyes, but Jeffery seemed proud of the statement so she did not say anything.

“Baron just sounded nice,” her own foxhawk added, speaking only to her. “There are too many Nights and Shadows. I don’t think it means anything.”

“It’s a title,” she whispered back. Mouthing the words without speaking them aloud. It was hard to just think them without speaking them.

“A title?” Baron cocked his head.

“It’s a job,” she was not sure how to explain it, “it’s someone who’s in charge of a large section of land and all the people who live there.”

“Like a warren council?” He asked.

“I have no idea what those are like, but it sounds good.”


< Previous | Index | Next >

Martha Bechtel

My name is Martha Bechtel and I write fantasy and science fiction stories, paint small model horses silly colors, cast resin and plaster magnets, code random code (and Wordpress plugins)... Come on in and join in the fun!