Llew, this is just something that I brewed up upon my arrival here. I hope you like it and please leave your comments etc.
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Scab.
Post Merge: February 19, 2011, 07:57:07 PM
-CHAPTER ONE-
Currabinny Woods.‘NNNNNNWWWWAAAAYYYY.’
I woke up with a start. Rubbing my gloved hands over my eyes, I looked around me and
sniffed the air. Cold, damp and misty, there was an undeniable sinister atmosphere sinking around the skeletal trees scattered in Currabinny Woods. Currabinny was in Ireland, and it was here that my story took place.
Rushing through the clearing in the nearby willow trees, my four paws brushed along the leaf-filled ground as I made my way over to the nearby waterfall. It was still a horrible, murky brown colour. I let out a defeated howl as I thought about this. The river, a once-beautiful lake which had shone silver under the eternal full moon, was now nothing more than a dump. The campers and explorers who went venturing into these deepest parts of the forest had been cruel and lazy. They had dumped their rubbish into the waters; destroying the home of my friends, the now-extinct fish folk. It was horrible.
Who was I? Well … it’s a long story. I was born on the eve of December 21st 1994. I never knew my parents. I had been banished, abandoned in these woods, the very night that I was born. Why? I had no idea. My parents just left me here in the forest and fled. I never heard from them again. I didn’t even know anything about them. And, not belonging to any other family, I had nowhere to stay. I had to carve my own way into this harsh, cruel world. Did I do well? Well, after sixteen long, bitter years, I am glad to say that the answer to that question is a profound, definite “yes.” Thank God for my uncanny wisdom. I swear that although I am only a fox, I might actually have some wolfish blood in my vains: I had once read in a children’s book that I had found lying on the forest floor that wolves are meant to be exceedingly intelligent. I had found that book and many other valuable possessions abandoned in the woods. Deserted, forgotten about: just like me.
My name is Scabior McMB-Psycho-Chan. It’s a name that I created for myself; if my parents had ever intended on giving me another name, I never knew about it. But I doubted that they wanted to give me a proper title. If they had cared that much, they wouldn’t have left me here all alone and defenceless. Would they?
Well, I wasn’t exactly all alone. For ages, I had had birds and fish for company. Unfortunately, they have since died out or had never returned from the winter emigration. I was the only living thing left residing in the forest. Of course, some people came into the woods every now and then, but these campers never bothered staying here for more than a few weeks. They had their own houses in the polluted city districts, they didn’t need to interfere with my home.
Just then, as I regretfully drank some of the muddy water; my large, pointed ears pricked up. There had been a soft crack behind me. Instinct told me that I was about to be prounced upon.
‘Galileo. Galileo. Can you do the fandango?’
A sandy-orange fox leapt out of the dark grass, pouncing towards me. I rolled out of the way just in time. Panting, I looked at the intruder. He had similar coloured fur to me, except his was a shade lighter. Also like me, he had a small scar slashed across his eye-his was slashed across his right eye, mine was slashed across my left.
‘Who … who are you?’ I barked, asking the first clichéd question that had come to my head; disgracing my surprisingly large vocabulary.
The fox looked at me; sizing me up and down. His diamond-blue eyes widened as he took in my black t-shirt which was advertising a popular metal fox band, The TailWaggers.
‘I’m Flyin’ Filiko,’ he said, smoothly. He spoke in a voice not too dissimilar to mine: a calm, caring voice with a little bit of musical qualities to his words. He also wore a black tshirt, as well as dark jeans, a belt, black boots, and fingerless gloves. In his hand he held a sniper rifle and on his back, he had a green schoolbag with a red stripe slashed through the middle of it. It surprised me how closely he mirrored my love of the colour black.
I leapt sidewards, into the shade of one of the willow trees. Wind brushed against my shaggy black hair. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I was looking for my brother,’ he said, not taking his eyes off of me. He gazed fondly at my fashionable green scarf. I also wore navy-white runners with serpents on it and the message ‘Love kills. Deal with it’, which shielded my red, polka-dot socks. ‘And I think I’ve found him.’
‘What?’ I said, looking behind me. ‘I can’t see your brother anywhere.’
‘You are my brother,’ he said, and he said it so softly that I actually believed him. Our eyes focused on each other for a long moment after that and tears began to form in both pairs.
‘But … if I’m your brother … how come I’ve never seen you before?’ I asked.
‘We were abandoned,’ said Flyin’. ‘Abandoned in two different parts of the world.’
‘And you know I’m your brother because?’
‘Because Akula told me,’ said Flyin’, dreamily. He had a black collar with “Akula
” written on it.’
‘Who’s Akula?’ I asked, dumly.
‘My mate. He told me everything. Somehow, he knows too much about my past and, coincidely, yours. He told me that my brother had been left in Currabinny Woods … and he’s since asked me to try and find you. Finally, my search is complete.’
I still continued to back away, cautiously. ‘What’s your point? Great, I’ve been reunited with a family member I’ve never seen before. But what’s that got to do with anything? How does it affect me? I have no feelings for you … or any of my family members. I’ve come to accept the fact that you don’t exist.’
Flyin’ laughed coolly. ‘Ah come on CT. Surely you care about your siblings and parents?’
‘CT?’ I repeated, puzzled.
‘CT Renard, your birthname.’
‘No .. my name is Scabior McMB-Psycho-Chan,’ I demanded. ‘I chose it myself.’
‘Very well Scabior,’ Flyin’ grinned. ‘You’re coming with me. I’m bringing you back to my hometown. All my friends have been so worried about you … they thought that you were dead.’
‘Home?’ A look of excited, dawning wonder flashed across my face before becoming instantly dispelled. ‘Is this some kind of illusion?’ I had never had a proper “home” before. Not one that included other canines.
‘I’m real,’ said Flyin’. ‘Now come on. You can’t stay in these woods anymore. You’ll catch your death.’
‘I’ve survived sixteen years, haven’t I?’ I shook aside my purple bracelets.
Flyin’ sighed.
‘You were lucky for sixteen years … but you can’t continue living on your own. It’s not right. And besides, the government is discussing whether or not they should wipe out this forest and replace it with a housing estate. You’ve got to come back to TFF City, with me. What have you got to lose?’
‘Very well,’ I groaned. ‘Let’s go.’
And, giving one final look at the dismal waterfall, I followed my brother towards the outskirts of the forest and into the edges of a new, possibly better, life. There were many questions that filled my mind as I ran into the sunset. Why did my parents abandon me? Were they still alive? Who was Akula? What was TFF City like? Would I make new friends? Would I find a new mate?
Yes, loads of questions filled my head but right now, I didn’t care. Right now, I felt like enjoying myself. The answers could wait.
TO BE CONTINUED.
