Hunter Adapts - EBV3 Excerpt

Unfortunately, there were some spoilers right before this part, so I had to cut the stuff before this out. It was really good though!

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Hunter had not taken Keel’s possessive inflection askance and presently he made a face at it. His poor brother; surrounded by people who thought that he was livestock. It was disgusting. Hunter had to rescue him somehow. He had no idea how he could ever accomplish that, but he would rather his brother be treated like a person, not like a cow. Grouchy from his empty stomach and Keel’s natterings, Hunter started tromping back to the cave, shoving aside ferns from his path with careless vendetta. Nothing was good in Sloveniska, not for him or Ki. He had hoped the place would be an improvement for his brother, but thus far it seemed more like Ki was being held captive, for all that he was apparently a prince.

“Sloveniska, you’re a horrible place.” growled Hunter, then he questioned why he was talking to a country. Water dripped constantly on his head, dribbling down his greasy hair into the prodigious new beard that he had been unwillingly growing. Hunter didn’t like the beard, it was too itchy, but his knife was too scarily sharp for him to risk shaving it off. He thought he might cut himself bad enough to bleed to death, knowing his luck. Hunter slipped a little, as if to prove his ill luck. Yes, his luck was horrible. Just the fact that he was wintering in the world’s wettest environ was proof of that. His socks had not been dry or clean for a month and if he could have gotten new ones, he would have burned the ones he had. Within those dreadful socks his feet were always waterlogged, like overcooked vegetables. It was horrible. Sometimes he sniffed his feet and thought they smelled bad enough to provoke fainting.

“Hensynaik!” cursed Hunter as he stumbled over a root. His day wasn’t going well. That he was stumbling proved that. Hunter resisted the urge to kick vindictively at the root and stepped over it, then in a whirl of confusing green, painfully found himself on a smarting rump, his metal shod heel having slipped in the soft loam. Swearing liberally, he struggled up using his spear, rubbing his muddy posterior and wincing, not really noticing around the sound of his own cursing that the forest had gone unexpectedly silent. The animals had gotten used to his harmless passage through this area and usually ignored him, whereas they squealed bloody murder for Keel. But Keel wasn’t with Hunter, he was back at the cave, so the forest should not of gone silent, yet it had, as unnervingly silent as the nerveless silence that proceeds the knowledge that somebody you know is dead.

“Stupid root!” snarled Hunter, turning and whacking at the invisible annoyance with the butt of his spear through the covering veil of leaves. “Flaming thing! Stay out of my w…”

Hunter’s anger turned to fear in an instant. Something didn’t feel right; something was horribly wrong. Something big, that made him feel like perhaps he should run. He couldn’t place what it was. There was no obvious cause for the feeling; it made the back of his neck prickle. Hunter took a firmer hold of the spear in both hands and whirled around, looking in all directions, half expecting to see Keel, but Keel wasn’t there. Nothing was. It was silent - too silent. Hunter realized that now with dread. Something very bad was very close by. Something watching him, its eyes burning into his head.

He looked around again, not just side to side and behind, but up and down, but nothing was there. Everything was telling him to run, yet all he had ever been taught about predators was telling him he should go up a tree. Most four-legged animals cannot climb, but it didn’t matter anyway, because all the trees around him were slick bark trees, the kind that Ki had once been caught in, the kind which was impossible to climb and which Keel favoured for his traps, even morbidly joking once that he would never catch anything as good as what the enemy Cyslo had caught that day in his when Ki had been trapped. Hunter looked up a nearby tree, hoping he could shimmy and thought better - no. No there was nothing really that he could do - besides pray.

Hunter started walking again. Maybe if he walked fast enough, he could avoid whatever was stalking him somehow. It was a struggle not to burst into a run; Hunter was too afraid to walk slowly, but he was also too afraid to bolt. His school teachers had all taught him that if he ran from a predator he would be dead. Running made a predatory animal want you more; it made them excited. He mustn’t run.

He stumbled and nearly had a heart attack, then he looked around in a shock of paranoia, but again nothing was there. Nothing was nearby, yet something was watching him. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it like its teeth were already grasping his throat. Something was there. He started walking again, struggling even harder not to run. He was only about a kilometre from home, but that kilometre might be too far. He wasn’t sure if he could make it with the creature chasing him. His heart was flip-flopping, his stomach twisting with the knowledge that something unseen wanted to eat him. Something big. He wished he knew what it was.

Hunter froze as something rustled up ahead, then a familiar long black face nosed out from a patch of ferns into his path.

“Keel! Keel it’s you! Hensynaik, that almost killed me!” gasped Hunter in relief, running up to the drakoon and feeling like the sun had come out, for he was undoubtedly saved. What if it had been Keel stalking him all along? Hunter wouldn’t of been surprised. He laughed; he was okay now. The nightmare was over. “Keel, were you sneaking up on me? That’s a bad trick bo. Nearly scared me to death!”

Keel wasn’t looking at him for some reason. He was looking past Hunter, back the way Hunter had come and his tail was twitching, his focus on the trees from which Hunter had came, as deviously sharp as if he were shooting arrows with his eyes there. As Hunter passed him, looking back, Keel peeled back his lips and growled, narrowing his eyes.

“What is it?” asked Hunter, his heart pounding again. Whatever it was, it was still there and now that Keel was growling, Hunter knew it was real. Hunter gulped and levelled his spear, just as he had been taught, yelping as Keel started slowly stalking towards where the unseen monster was. Too scared to run home without the dragon, Hunter scurried after him, keeping his spear ready, his stance apart. Keel half spread his wings over his back as if to make himself look bigger, growling ever louder, stalking purposefully. Whatever something was there, it should be ready.

A monstrously shaggy head, yellowed white on top and black on the bottom, a huge muscled skull with short round ears pushed out of the leaves. To Hunter it almost looked like a doggish or Fallan creature, but for the fact that it was so big, as big nearly as Keel. The big stocky beast waded out of the brush on legs that seemed as thick as young trees, a long tail like a fern leaf fanning after it, bicolour like the rest of it. Hunter had never seen such long ugly claws on any animal, nor such long carnassials or fangs as the beast opened its mouth, roaring back at Keel. Its underside was muddy black, its top stained white, making it one of the strangest looking animals that Hunter had ever seen. The beast’s furry hackles stood up in a spiny looking ridge, seeming to make it twice as big as it really was and as Keel lifted a paw to step closer to it, Hunter felt a horrific sense of foreboding. This thing was almost as big as Keel; it was going to kill him if they fought, which Keel seemed to intend to do.

As the beast roared again, Keel answered back with a long, low keen, a shrilling sound that seemed more scared than brave, yet the monster seemed to pause at it and
Keel spread his wings higher, thrashing his deadly tail around their legs.

“Keel. Maybe we should go yes? Keel!” squeaked Hunter. The drakoon wasn’t listening. He snarled again, every single one of his teeth ferociously visible, lashing the air with his tongue, half crouching, legs apart. The beast flattened its ears and came closer, yowling furiously, shaking its head aggressively. It came so close that Hunter could see the whites of its menacing beady yellow eyes and then it paused, its lethal gaze shifting from Keel’s angry face, to Hunter’s and suddenly Hunter knew which of the two of them it was going to go for. Who would he have attacked, if he were a hungry predator?

Hunter just managed to get the point of his spear up at a proper angle before it charged, its claws ripping towards his arms. It tried to ducked under the swipe Hunter took at it and whirled as Keel charged in, snapping at its shaggy throat. The smell of the thing’s breath was ghastly on the air and Hunter scrambled out of the way, watching as the forest titan turned snarling upon Keel, their teeth slashing together, the pair of beasts grappling. For some reason, as Hunter watched, the animal trying again to go for Hunter, Keel instantly distracting it with a nip, it seemed to Hunter that he was supposed to do something. He had never been so dangerously close to such a vicious animal confrontation before and it was scaring the tar out of him, Keel’s furious shrills stinging his eardrums, the beast’s yowls echoing to terrifying effect all around them.

As the Keel forced the beast to back towards Hunter, Hunter suddenly knew exactly what he should do, which was surprising because he was so terrified. The big feathery tail hit him in the legs and with barely any hesitation, Hunter gritted his teeth, then drove his spear point down through the base of the monster’s tail with all of his strength, the beast screaming in pain. In a flash the animal was spinning around to get at him, but in that moment, that bizarre, shaken moment as Hunter stumbled back, falling on his rump again, drawing his pitiful little knife, Keel jumped onto the back of the beast before it could remember that it had a greater foe. Hunter just managed to get up as Keel grappled the screaming beast that vainly tried to throw him off, Keel’s hooked claws loosing rivulets of scarlet across the beast’s thick disgusting fur. Snarling, the animal tried to get him off, but it couldn’t with its tail stuck; it couldn’t even buck. It screamed and moaned, the cries of its pain the worst sound that Hunter had ever heard.

Then Keel got his jaws clasped around the back of the beast’s head and with a violent jerk punctuated by a crackling of snapping vertebrae, the animal collapsed, a limp mountain of hair. Hunter stared at it, shocked that anything so horrifically animated, so real, could suddenly look almost fake. Keel bent around its throat and almost casually bit its neck, making its blood flow in a sheet across the muddy, trampled forest floor, blood mixing in with the damp cake of the loam. Keel let go of the creature’s neck and looked up at Hunter, licking his chops.

“Gods.” intoned Hunter, this time in English, his knees shaking. He was so relieved. The thing was dead. Keel transformed and Hunter mutely watched him pull his spear out of the ground and the beast’s tail, making it bleed heavily again all over the prior drenched tail.

“Catch.” said Keel, tossing Hunter the spear. He barely caught it. The drakoon unsheathed the knife he had with the engravings on its blade and started butchering the carcass, skinning the hide off. “Good pelt. We didn’t ruin it too much. A few holes, but it’ll do for lining your cloak. Those can be patched.”

Hunter almost felt sick at the very mention. Why did Keel always have to make so much morbid sense about things like this? Why was he obsessed with Hunter using hides for things? They worked; they were very warm, but still… it was rather creepy. He had seen the animals who gave them die - he had eaten parts of them.

Yet back home he used leather all the time. That wasn’t any different, but it felt that way.

“W-what is it?” yelped Hunter weakly, relieved at least that Keel wasn’t making him skin the animal.

“Fugara. You should be grateful I came out looking for you, or you would be the one losing your hide now and getting eaten. Good job with the spear yes?” said Keel, hacking off a chunk of flesh, then tearing it with his teeth. He ate it, blood dripping down his chin and Hunter flinched. Keel grinned at Hunter, a horrible red smile that made him sick. “Did you have any luck with the foraging?”

“No.” said Hunter. Keel snickered.

“Ready to stop starving yet human, or do you actually want to die? I heard your species has a perchant for suicide. It makes me wonder, what kind of species would evolve an ability to be self destructive? What a flaw in evolution.” mocked Keel, hacking off another piece of meat and gobbling it. Hunter grimaced, yet his stomach growled. Even raw meat looked good now. Keel smirked and cut out a piece. “Want some human? You helped kill it. You should have some. It’s better than starving yes? Better than eating plants!”

“Mystaya wouldn’t agree.” said Hunter weakly.

“Mistaya’s a horse idiot. Mystaya will never agree.” said Keel, eating another piece. “But you Hunter - you’re an omnivore. You have a choice yes? Be smart. You’ll die if you refuse to eat.”

“In my society, meat is for dogs.” said Hunter. Keel snorted and cackled at him.

“Meat is for dogs? Perfect! Here Dog - eat some! It’s disrespectful to the animal if you don’t!”

Hunter walked a few steps closer and stopped. “That thing was stalking me.”
Keel smirked. “That’s the best part isn’t it? It wanted to eat you, but now you will eat it. Come here Dog-human. Live. Vininiska would eat it.”

Hunter wrinkled his nose. “Not after he’d seen that.”

“Yes he would.” said Keel nonchalantly.

“You don’t know him.” said Hunter, grimly taking the grisly piece of muscle meat, his stomach heaving at the sight of it.

“No, not yet.” agreed Keel, some of his bravado fading away. “Let’s not talk about Vininiska.”

Hunter closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then put the end of the meat in his mouth, biting down hard in order to tear off a piece of it. The meat was extremely bloody and tough and he had to chew it repeatedly to make it go down, his gag reflex making him ill. But he survived that first horrible piece of meat. When he opened his eyes, Keel was holding out another one to him.

“Here human. Eat more.” ordered Keel. Hunter did, staring at the ground this time, sitting in the drenched ferns beside the corpse. It was disgusting if he thought about the body being a corpse, but that was what it was. He chewed and Keel had another piece for him.

“N-no. I’m full.” lied Hunter, not wanting any more to do with the ordeal.

“Here Hunter. Eat.” said Keel, as if he hadn’t heard. The drakoon leaned closer, smiling putridly into Hunter’s face. “Eat or I’ll make you Dog-human. Don’t forget what I was willing to do with Vininiska.”

The memory of seeing Keel’s arm buried in Ki’s mouth made Hunter choke and so he kept eating, thinking that his throat probably would not handle such a happening. He ate, grinding at the meat with his teeth until his jaw ached, then and only then did Keel let him go, piling the raw pelt around his shoulders.

“Aren’t you coming?” Hunter had fearfully asked.

“No. I’ll be eating the rest now.” said Keel. Hunter stared at him.

“The rest? You can’t possibly eat that entire fugara.”

“Maybe not all at once, but there won’t be much left, Dog-human. Go home. I’ll bring some more for you later.” said Keel.

Hunter did not think he could ever eat any more of the gristly fugara meat, but he nodded and went, preparing the pelt as he got home, then stoking the fire up to try to warm up the cave while he washed the fur along with his clothes. Wrapped in furs and shivering he laid visual to the slight twisted pain in his stomach, knowing that it was probably food poisoning from the meat. He wanted to be ill, but he was scared Keel would find out and there was nothing else to eat, besides the meat. He tried to make himself feel better with water and bundled himself in hides beside the fire, watching it flicker, thinking about life. He did not think that he was doing very well. It had been a long time since he had been dry or full or since he had enjoyed his food. Keel wouldn’t help him. Keel was trying to force him to live the way he lived, but from Hunter’s aching stomach, he knew that way of living was impossible for him. A human could not eat raw meat like a carnivore. He had heard it said that carnivores could eat carrion because the hydrochloric acid in their stomach was strong enough to burn through nearly anything. Humans had hydrochloric acid in their stomachs too, but it was weak, water compared to what predators had in theirs, acid capable of killing all but the strongest of bacterium that entered their digestive tracts.

He had to find a way to live. He had to find a way to live that pleased Keel, but which wouldn’t kill him. Hunter gritted his teeth; there had to be a way to do it. A way to soldier on and make the best of what was around him better. His eyes fell on the spear, fugara blood staining its wood.

“I can make this life better. I’m a human - I can do this.” said Hunter firmly, bolstering himself. “Humans can do anything - I’m here on Rimer aren’t I? Humans didn’t come from here! They came from Gaia! I’m living with an alien shape shifter thing and his alien horse. He’s right - I can do this. I can adapt!”

Hunter looked out side and scowled at the rain. “Do you hear me rain? I CAN ADAPT!”

In the distance, there was a thunder rumble.

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Actually Hunter, considering Big Hairy and Ugly only JUST died, you're probably safe from the food poisoning this time, though I do question what kind of residue might be on Keel's gloves when he handed you that meat!

The upset stomach Hunter has is from his vegetarianism; his stomach is shocked by the meat. Escavians, like I said, only rarely eat meat, though in Hunter's area they do have some fish, so he's not completely new to this animal flesh thing.

Also, coincidentally did you know that most deaths by choking result from choking on meat and that most people who are choking are found dead in the bathroom, because for some reason they're too embarrassed to admit that they're choking, so they go hide and then nobody is there to help them, so they die? Yep. Great fact for you.

Keel's so hilariously snobby and racist to Hunter in Emperor's Blood. I love writing him. He's definitely got a 'higher than thou' complex going on. Luckily he's got a lot of redeeming qualities or he'd be one gigantic asshole.

I hope you guys enjoyed this sequence from Hunter and Keel's side of the story!

EBV3 Excerpt - Dream - Chapter 52 Start

Whenever I read parts of my manuscript now, I try to think of how I'd conceptualize them in my development art project. I just read a part before this where I thought I would show the change in season by a classic change in colour palette, from soft green to orange, to blue grey and in this, I think I would use very bold tones of red in green, like what I used in some of my older paintings. When I work with acrylics I often enjoy the use of bolder, harder colours than when I normally colour things, which I think is kind of interesting. (Of course that's partially because paint kind of infuriates me.) In any case, enjoy this excerpt from Emperor's Blood where we get to see some interaction between Ki and another character. Draft.


Summery fields stretched as far away as the horizon, rows upon rows of potatoes and squash roasting under a warm dry sun. Ki could taste the heat in the air and there was a divine odour of dry greenery that he had always liked, combined with the flavour of ripening apples. Horses grazed nearby in a paddock fenced with white washed boards, chestnut, sorrel and bay, express horses like Snip had been, fine boned but shaggy, small yet swift with feathering on their slender legs. Ki leaned back in the scratchy old grey wooden rocking chair on the veranda of the red painted farmhouse. It wasn’t his farm, the one he had grown up on, but it was comfortable and soothing and nobody was there but him. There was a scruffy black dog resting at his feet on top of an old scrap rug woven of tidbits of fabric and on top of the veranda railing there sat a ginger tabby cat that was washing itself. If Ki breathed in deep enough he could smell a lake nearby and the sand on the road that led to it beyond the orchard trees that shaded the property. In the yard a flock of little red chickens clucked under a fairytale blue sky that had been swirled with clouds.

Nobody there but him and his animals. Ki sighed heavily in relief. This place was paradise. If he never had to leave it he would be extremely happy.

“It’s not real you know.” said a voice from in front of the door. Ki lazily looked over, recognizing his friend the dragon.

“This place? Yeah. I know. It’s too good to be real.” said Ki, slowly rocking the chair, the motion soothing him. The world seemed real enough as the dog looked up at him with big soft brown eyes and wagged its tail. Ki stopped rocking to reach down and pet it and felt reassuringly fine black fur sweep against his fingertips. The dog put its head back down and moaned contentedly as the dragon came closer, its sharp claws clicking against the wood of the porch.

“You have a vivid imagination Vininiska.” said the dragon, sitting down and staring contemplatively at the dog. “Is that a dog? A real dog?”

“Yep.” said Ki, smiling sleepily at the paddock where the horses were and beginning to rock again. Everything was so green and lovely. There were white flowers planted near the pasture and one of the horses was straining to get at them through the fence. “That’s a real dog.”

“I’ve never seen a dog. They’re not something from here you know. We don’t have them.” said the dragon, twitching its tail as it peered at the cat. “And that, Vininiska, is the oddest looking cat that I have ever seen. I can’t help but disapprove of the colouring of it. Shouldn’t it be black? Or grey? Or white? Shouldn’t its fur be longer?”

“Nope. That’s a real cat.” said Ki fondly. “Not like your cats. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t listen. All he does is purr and ask for pets. He’s a good cat. A normal cat.”

“Doesn’t look normal at all to me.” said the dragon, peering at the horses. “Those horses are peculiar as well. What are those little red things? Food?”

“Chickens. They lay eggs. Nice animals.” said Ki. The dragon recoiled.

“You don’t eat them? That’s very strange Vininiska. Very strange.” said the dragon. Ki did not have the energy to glare at it.

“You’re much stranger than the chickens. I don’t even know who you are.” said Ki. “You just appeared one day. Who are you?”

The dragon seemed to grin at him. “Who am I…? What sort of question is that? We met a long time ago.”

“I don’t remember.” said Ki. “Do you know where Hunter is? There‘s nobody I can really ask besides you.”

“The not-dog? I know. Of course I know. I know everything - almost - didn’t you know that?” asked the dragon, quirking its head. Its lips did not move when it spoke; it simply held its mouth open.

“No.” said Ki, running a hand through his hair. In this dream, it was perfect hair, not short ticked drakoon hair that stood up impossibly, but longer, silkier hair like a human’s, like Hunter’s but as black as soot.

“Well. You’re very strange you know.” said the dragon. “Yes but… ah, yes. Hunter. He’s fine. He’s doing better now. For a while I was not sure if he would live, but he came through in the end. He’s actually managed to make himself quite happy, so I would not worry about him. He lives by a waterfall. The one I worry about is you… are you doing any better? It’s been almost four and a half months since you came home to us.”

Ki sat up and in the distance, his idyllic dream of a farm with no problems started chipping away, the details going first, the landscape, then the animals, then the chair Ki sat on, then the smells. The dragon remained, its yellow eyes and pink mouth stark against the colourless world of the dream. Ki had the strangest feeling that it was real, that unlike the farm of his imaginings the dragon was truly there, sitting there with him in his mind, touchable, reachable, like he could have met it in the real world and continued a discussion with it. He wasn’t dictating what it was saying or what it was doing. It had no smell, yet for some reason Ki did not expect it to have any smell. It was not really a creature that should have one.

“I suppose… I suppose I’m getting better.” said Ki hesitantly. “But… you know I don’t really know what better is. Better just feels different to me. Was I ever really healthy?”

“You were when you were born. You were very strong then.” said the dragon, as if it had been there.

“Well. I can run while holding my wings up now without falling over. My tail barely makes me trip at all anymore and I can outrun both of Kelveniska’s sketzine. I can almost write my name. Um. I suppose you don’t care about that.” said Ki.

“Not particularly, but I’m gladdened to hear that you are improving.” said the dragon sighing as it stood up. “I’m afraid I have to go prematurely Vininiska. Be good today. I’ll keep looking out for that human of yours if you concentrate getting ready for the war that’s coming.”

“Wait!” said Ki, standing up. “Why are you going? You’re the only person besides Dansen that I can talk to! What war? Please stay and tell me! Why do I have to get ready for war?”

“This land is always at war with somebody.” shrugged the dragon. “Hasn’t anybody told you that?”

“No!” yelped Ki. “I got deported here just so that I could be a soldier in some war?!

“No. You’re the one who’s going to make the war.” said the dragon, staring at him speculatively, pausing in mid step. “Well, I’d love to stay and talk to you longer, but you’re waking up. Goodbye for now Vininiska. Be good. Be ready.”

The Other Way - Part 1

The following comes from a brilliantly written unfinished short story that was based on the concept of actions and choices having resonating consequences in history. The idea of this story, 'The Other Way' was a second generation of this idea, coming from the original 'The Way it Should Have Been' in which the choice one character makes completely changes the outcome of the story (Emperor's Blood) in a seperate reality. This is how much I think about my stories. 'The Way it Should Have Been' was rather mystical in a way, while 'The Other Way' was based upon the choices of the human character Evangaline Chard or 'Eva.' Eva plays a fairly big role in EB, even if she rarely if ever appears - she is Ki, the protagonist's surrogate mother and it was in thinking about her during the writing of my graphic short 'My Brother is Weird' that I thought that her choices would have had a huge influence on Ki's life - and how it turned out the way it does. Eva, being Ki's foster mother, is responsible for his health, but she doesn't know that he is not human so she has no idea that his needs as a carnivore are very different from a normal human child's like Hunter's. Thinking about her, I tried to figure out why this character, this caretaker guardian, doesn't do something about the fact that something is obviously wrong with Ki as he suffers under the heavy yoke of how humans live their lives. You would think that any logical mother would call a doctor when their young son's body temperature rises above 100, yet Eva doesn't. In the end, I came to the conclusion that some legends from our modern culture, such as governments dissecting new species such as aliens if they find them, would transcend into Rimarian culture and thus into Eva. Eva knows something is gravely wrong with Ki, but because she is afraid of what the government might do to him, she doesn't tell them. She doesn't take him to the doctor.

But that is all canonical - the concept behind 'The Other Way' is that Eva does bite the bullet. She does take Ki to a doctor - and ultimately, he is discovered by his own species, far sooner than he is in the real story. This is particularly interesting, because when Ki is a child - or rather, a kitten, he's a very different person than when he is older. As a kitten, Ki's still waiting for his real parents to come for him and he is in fact very cynical of his human family, but as he gets older and he gives up on his blood family finding him, he loses that cynicism, turning it towards his unknown relations who in his head never bothered to even look for him. That's Ki. Imagine how affronted he is, as a near adult when his own species comes to town and he is forced to face them - as well as his own identity. In this story, Ki is in the transition between feeling cynicism towards his human family and to his real one.

'The Other Way' is incomplete. However, the parts that are, are written quite beautifully and are a personal model for how I want EB to be written, so here's the first chapter.

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It just didn’t look right. Even with looking at illustrations of dragons, Ki’s dragon didn’t look like he wanted it to, but there laid the problem, because he was not sure what it was supposed to look like, just that everything he was doing was wrong. He was trying to draw a particular type of dragon he knew, but he had no idea what kind it was. He had tried describing it, but he didn’t even know what colour it was, just how it felt, big, full of teeth and powerful, a king predator of predators.

Perhaps the problem was that he usually drew horses. He wasn’t used to drawing dragons. Dragons were different; they had wings, spines, claws and teeth where horses were gentle and hoofed. You couldn’t make a horse scary, at least in Ki’s opinion, but he had never been afraid of a horse and he was afraid of a dragon. How did a dragon make itself scary? Just by walking up to you and hissing? Maybe you didn’t even see it coming. Maybe a dragon would come from behind and bite the back of your neck like some falla did. Maybe dragons just seared you dead in an instance with their fire, than ate your cooked flesh. Was that how dragons hunted? Was that how they killed?

Ki usually didn’t really care much for dragons, but drawing a dragon was his homework for Art Class, so he wanted it to be better than everybody else’s. Hunter’s dragon was horrible looking, a big ugly red thing that didn’t even look remotely real. Its jaws were twisted and gnarly and a gusher of drool was falling from them, while a spurt of orange colour represented fire. Its eyes were yellow.

Yellow. Ki thought that that might be right. Dragons and predatory animals usually had yellow eyes didn’t they? He grimaced. He didn’t know for sure. He didn’t like adding a detail if he didn’t know for sure that it was real and factual. What would become of his standards if he just used any old colour? He might be too clumsy to draw something absolutely realistic, but he could at least give it realistic colours. He owed it to himself and common sense. Ki hated things which didn’t make sense. Mathematics was a good example of nonsensical things which he hated, which also happened to be the homework that he should have been working on but wasn’t, preferring the dragon assignment.

But what colour is a sky dragon? wondered Ki in frustration. All his references were black and white. It said in the description of the Tarnese Indigo Dragon or Sky Wolf that those were blue, but so were Wind Drakes. Tiger Dragons weren’t blue. They were green or grey, with splotchy, stripey markings to make them blend in with the old growth forests where they lived. Ki liked the idea of tiger dragons, but they looked nothing like his dragon, whatever it was. It didn’t feel like his dragon was blue. He would have known if it was blue, but what other colour could it be? Wraith Dragons were tawny and grey. Ki’s dragon looked nothing like a wraith. He frowned at the heavy spines he’d put on its tail, wondering if they were right, laboring yet again over the addition of them. Why couldn’t he just decide and be simple like other children?


“Ki! Are you doing your homework?” called his adoptive mother Eva.

“Yes!” said Ki, staring angrily at his drawing. Why can’t I get this right? It’s going to bother me for ages if I can’t!

“Are you working on your math?” called Eva again.

“I’m not done with Art!”

“Ki, it’s almost time for bed, you know you should work on your math!” called Eva.

“Yes Mom!” said Ki, ignoring her suggestion as he continued to eye the paper. He had no idea what colour to make his dragon, though he was pretty sure he wanted to make its eyes yellow. Beautiful, golden yellow with a hint of orange, like his eyes. Ki grimaced; he really wasn’t sure whether to hate or like his eyes. They were too unique. He’d never seen another person with eyes like his.

A cacophony on the stairs announced the arrival of his brother, Hunter, raced into their attic room and leaped up onto Ki’s bed, displacing some of the mattress’ lumpy stuffing as he leaned over Ki’s shoulder.

“I knew it! Momma sent me to see if you’d switched to math yet!” hissed Hunter. “Why haven’t you coloured your dragon yet? Just pick a colour! Teacher won’t care if it looks real or not!”

“I care.” grumbled Ki. “Hunter, can you tell Eva and Mattie I’m on math anyway?”

“Nooo.” said Hunter, hugging Ki around the waist. Ki tried to wriggle free, grabbing at Hunter’s wrists, but Hunter was stronger than him and squeezed him instead of letting go.

“Hey let go!” hissed Ki.

“Work on math then. Colour the dragon purple.” said Hunter.

“Dragons aren’t purple.” snipped Ki.

“Do you want a mark in art or not? Colour it purple.”

Ki wanted to kick Hunter in the crotch. “Dragons aren’t stupid purple! I’m not colouring it purple! Absolutely not!”

“So it’s a white dragon?”

“Shuddup! It’s dark I think.” said Ki angrily, almost crying.

“Hey Ki it’s alright.” said Hunter, loosening his grip and rubbing his face in Ki’s hair. Ki shook him off grumpily.

“No it’s not! I have to get this dragon right! I have to!” snapped Ki. He gulped, realized Hunter had been apologizing and immediately felt bad. “’m sorry Hunter. I’m just frustrated.”

“I know. Why don’t you leave your drawing and sleep on what colour it is?” suggested Hunter.

“Mattie told you to say that.” grumbled Ki.

“Momma’s smart.” said Hunter. “Now do math!”

“Can’t I sleep on it?” demanded Ki.

“Momma said if you sleep on it you won’t do it. She also told me to hug you and help you get it done an’ that you can’t go to bed until it’s done.” said Hunter bossily.

“She never said that.” said Ki, crossing his arms. “That’s all you.”

“Yeah but it’s better than me tackling you right?” grinned Hunter. Ki giggled.

“Maybe, but no hugs! I don’t like them!” said Ki. Hunter stuck out his tongue at him.

“Hug’s the trade for the help. Y’gotta let me hug you or I’ll give you no help.” said Hunter stubbornly. “You should like hugs. Hugs mean you’re loved.”

“I know I’m loved without being touched.” said Ki, wrinkling his nose. “Besides, your armpits smell. I don’t want to smell like your armpits because you hugged me.”

Hunter glared at him. “My pits don’t smell! I sniff them all the time and I never smell anything!”

“Well your nose doesn’t work.” Ki pointed out. “If it did you’d know day old fish still smells good.”

“No it doesn’t. It smells rotten, like feet but worse.” said Hunter. “Only you’d eat nasty rotten day old fish Ki.”

“Why not? It’s free and I’m hungry.”

“It’s gross!”

“No it’s not!”

With a cry Hunter tackled Ki, who was pinned against the bed and Ki had to struggle madly to get loose, only eventually achieving freedom because Hunter gave it to him. Next Ki thumped Hunter in the head with his pillow and then it was a war, Ki chasing Hunter around the room as Hunter tried to find something to hit him back with. Almost crying with laughter they fell in a tangle and could not stop in time as Hunter’s stout, pudgy mother made it up the stairs. Before they could move she had swept them both into a huge hug from which there was no escape, but Ki didn’t mind, not really. He hugged Hunter and his mother with all the small might that he could muster until Mattie put them down, smiling from ear to ear. She brushed each of their cheeks with the back of her hand ever so gently, than she hugged them again, tenderly this time.

“Now then my sillies, what caused the riot?” asked Mattie gently.

“Hunter’s armpits stink.” declared Ki.

“Ki’s not doing his math an’ I offered to help him, then we roughhoused.” said Hunter more factually.

“Neither of you are old enough for stinky armpits.” said Mattie, shaking her head. “And you need to do your math homework. What if both Hunter and I help you?”

“I guess so, but th’won’t make me like it.” said Ki boldly.

“I know, but it has to be done little one. Won’t your teacher be unhappy if you don’t do it?” said Mattie.

“’an we have a test tomorrow.” said Hunter.

“Right, so if you do your homework with us now, it’ll make the test easier.” said Mattie, nodding. Ki didn’t believe her even minutely, for math was always ridiculously hard, but he knew the homework would be less painful if they helped him. They spread out their work on the floor, the boys sitting on either side of Mattie, who very patiently walked Ki through his homework, always making sure he thoroughly understood a question before moving forwards beyond it. When it got dark in the attic they moved down to the kitchen table and by candlelight they worked with mugs of sweetened peppermint tea in hand, until Eva came around to see why Hunter and Ki had yet to go to bed. Ki finished his last question, roughed in some purple crayon into his dragon drawing as he ceded to Hunter’s logic regarding the matter, then they all shared some celebratory cookies and drank the last of their tea before they went to bed with a story about a friendly magic dragon named Puff.

Ki fell asleep wondering if dragons really could be friendly and smiled into his pillow at the crazy little thought. Still, at least it was a cheerful idea.

_______________________________________________________

Another concept I explored in this piece was the concept that while Ki has absolutely no memories of his past (this is not like J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter) he might still subconsciously know that he is a dragon. The dragon Ki struggles to draw in this piece is an as-dragon drakoon - Ki's own kind, a species which bares a distinct resemblance to the death god Riveera's species because it is from Riveera's extinct species that Ki's sprang. Ki's even right when he says his dragon is a dark coloured one, because his species are black when they are dragons. I have noticed, watching my own art, that when I draw things, I often end up drawing somewhat to my own emotions - and this can colour my writing too. If I am very lonely, I draw lonely things and write of characters who love each other, because I miss loving. In this, Ki draws a dragon not because it's his art class project really, but because he misses his own kind, whether he knows it or not and is trying to bridge a connection, whether he knows it or not. As a child, before he is fully 'domesticated' by Eva and Mattie, Ki's survival instincts are a lot sharper than when he is older. Ki chases chickens. He doesn't know what to do with them, yet he still chases them, just like a kitten plays with a fly or a border collie puppy herds a duck across a yard. It's in his instincts and it's in his subconscious. This is a huge difference between what we understand (humans) and what we don't understand (animals.) What does it feel like to have a strong driving instinct to do something like hunt? We cannot really know. Our instincts as humans tend to be very muted, at least from my asexual female perspective.

I hope you enjoyed this installment of 'The Other Way.'