Thunderlight

(Cont.) Sapphire City, Part II

He turns to the left. To the right. To the left again, then he spins in a circle and ends up right back where he started.

Where's Lenny?

"Lenny?" He calls, anxious and worried.

No response.

"Lenny? Lenny!" He races forward to jump to the top of a pile of rubble. "Lenny! Guys, where's Lenny?!"

Florian releases his pendant and Torquil blinks at him. Aldrich is still in a heap on the ground. There's no Lenny with them.

Mott jumps off the pile, hurrying... somewhere. Supposedly. His mind is racing a mile a minute; his body acts without his permission. Lenny, Lenny—where's Lenny?!

"Find him!" He shouts, about ready to rip out his own fur. "Find him, find him now!"

Florian darts down a narrow pass and Torquil cups his hands around his mouth, bellowing, "Lenny!"

How did this happen? How did Mott lose him? How long has he been missing; does Mott even know when he vanished? Did something take him? Is he hurt? Worse?

"Lenny!" He yells, his voice cracking.

His call ricochets down the street, sounding hollow as it travels throughout the city. Keeping himself perfectly still, not even daring to breathe, he strains his hearing for a response. He's met with nothing but the despairing sound of his own echo.

But then, there's a noise.

It starts soft, at first. Then it grows. It's not much louder than the howling wind or the blowing dust; in fact, it's nearly drowned out by these small sounds. But Mott is searching for one thing and one thing only right now, and his ears have picked up on the sound of...

...Crying?

Mott leaps into action without a word, leaving Florian and Torquil to shout after him. He doesn't wait for them. He races through the street, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, breath short. He slips once, his new legs uncoordinated and unfamiliar, but presses on.

Crying. That's Lenny, and he's crying.

He runs about a block before he arrives upon an open street on his right. The road is littered with the usual wreckage and destruction, along with a few smoldering fires here and there. But none of that matters to him, not when his eyes hone in on a lone leavanny kneeling in the middle of the street.

"Lenny," Mott exhales, relieved and worried in a new way. He hurries to him, leaning his head down beside his sobbing friend. "What's wrong? I was worried sick about..."

His eyes trail to Lenny's arms. More specifically, what's held in those arms.

A little audino boy, no more than ten, pale and dead.

"I really thought," Lenny begins, his voice a hoarse whisper, "I really thought he might still be alive."

Mott presses his snout against the side of Lenny's face and closes his eyes, unsure of what to do. There's nothing he can say that will fix this, so he doesn't say anything at all. He just rests against Lenny and hopes that helps him in some small way.

Florian and Torquil arrive soon after. He feels the horror in their gazes, and when he turns to look at them, Torquil is already bent over and retching on the ground. Florian doesn't take his eyes away from the boy, even though his face is ashen and sickly pale. It's as if he can't look away.

Lenny cries for a little longer. Then, Florian produces a sheet from his satchel and covers the boy with it.

"Come on," Mott says, soft and somber. "Let's get him back to Ada."