Bastet
The squirrel reminds me of the one I met when I first came to Maylea. Ironic, isn't it? That the animal that gave me wide eyes clouded rose, is the same one I'm going to eat now. Its legs are twisted bloody in the trap I stumbled too. I feel bad. I have to eat a dead squirrel for my own gain. Sure it is to eat, but why do I have the right to eat if it's at the expense of others? If it's cost is life?
I take the tiny squirrel in my palm.
"Human," A voice calls. I spin on my heels, my eyes still blurry. I can hardly make out the person between the trees. They uncloak themselves from the shadows of the trunks, slinking towards me with more caution than malice.
Human?
I try to widen my eyes, willing the fog to fade. Overcast. Through it I can make out layered clothes of leaves and earth, patched up at the elbows and knees. The person has short brown hair and a twisted band around their brow.
"Why are you looting my trap, Gold?" Their voice scratches deep. I drop the bird, my hand feeling filthy.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean too," I say swiftly, taking a step back. They move closer. Their ears are pointed. An Elf. "I didn't know it was yours."
"Sure," They mutter. "Rob the one man who needs it most."
"I'm sorry, you can have it," I apologize. The Elf sighs, his mouth slanting into his cheek.
"Take it," He mutters. "Humans might be the worst living creatures but you look worse than they have treated me." I frown, looking down at the bird. I look bad?
I stand there for a moment. The sun rests on my face gently. Summer is rapid to autumn.
"I don't think I can clean him," I whisper, eyes still on the bird. The Elf sighs. I hear rummaging before he turns up my palm and presses something to it. I look down at the leaf wrap.
"Some of my last catch. Just leave and please don't collapse anywhere near here, Gold. I have bad experiences with collapsing people." I frown down at the leaf wrap. I tuck it into my sleeve. I look up, my eyes still foggy as I strain to catch a glimpse of the Elf's face.
"Thank you," I mumble, looking back down. The Elf shifts before the crunch of dying undergrowth fills my ears. I frown. The leaf wrap is cool in my palm. The fibers of the leaf prick my skin. I tuck it away in my pocket, dragging my hand flat against my sleeve.
That Elf treated me like a wounded animal. Maybe so, but he doesn't know things. Or perhaps I should be treated like one. The entire reason I came from Kyson was to be treated nicely, right? Wounded animals are treated nicely. Maybe I should strive to be one.
Even if he treated me with pity, he gave me food. And a reason to keep going. Even if my Moon is gone, and my stars are growing dimmer, I have to tell Milo what happened. It's no longer for me. I have to progress for Quarry and Milo. Even if I don't have a hope in the future, they might.