Show Me Your Teeth - 19/07/2023 - Mittens Mckittens
Jul 22, 2023 18:33:32 GMT
Riah and Andy D like this
Post by Mittens Mckittens on Jul 22, 2023 18:33:32 GMT
Mittens is having another nightmare.
Before him he sees the visage of his teacher Miss Kennari, her hand outstretched. “It’s just me Mitts…Just me…I’ve been keeping an eye on you…You took something didn’t you? Something stolen…By the Summer Court!” She spits. Her image sudden ripples and and flutters as if it were a tapestry caught by the wind, beyond which he seems glimpses of a figure that mirrors…No…Manipulates her every movement…As if she were merely a puppet.
With a cruel laugh the hidden figure and its marionette suddenly vanish into darkness as flashes of his journey with Mr Archie, Miss Raine and Miss Lilith run rapidly through his mind. Their departure from Daring Heights, their hike and delve into the Feythorn forest, the unnerving prickle of being watched between the trees growing stronger. Itching, twitching, becoming unbearable. Until he can restrict no longer and turns to be faced with the sneering face of that Unseelie Fey, Kerrak, as she is held tightly in the grasp of Mr Archie’s spell.
All at once he strikes out, compelled by a sudden swell of fear and anger. His claws leaving great gashes across Kerrak's mouth through which she smiles with sharp blood stained teeth as she speaks. “Not such a good little kitty now are we?”, the ceaseless blood pooling down her face as she laughs mockingly. Mittens looks down at his mitten covered hand, the soft cloth stained with red which continues to spread. The crimson mark growing to take on a form all of its own, of himself. He watches as it recounts: his finding and concealing of the box of teeth in the Summer Warrens. Of snatching up the gilded flower of the fey. Of being caught red handed by Crow trying to slip away that tabaxi book unnoticed. Of lying to Calla…His friend…Again…And Again…Again…
The weight of his guilt manifesting the blood now filling his hand into Raine’s summoned manacles, which clamp down upon his own wrists.
“See little Kitty…We are one of the same. What is good or bad really?” The unseelie fey enquiries, before suddenly the tip of a sword, his sword, bursts up through her chest. The blade continues to move, cutting open a cavity of jutting bone and rock in the fey’s chest, though which the blood soaked form of the familiar fey sprite Levkoy steps forth. The body of Kekra melting and reforming into the entrance as wide as a cave mouth to accommodate the now elongating form of Levkoy, as stepping through it he grows into the terrifying chilling figure before him of Vanhin. “You should just have give me what was mine young Mitttens Mckittens,” they scowl at him with their blood red gaze, their raised expectant open palm now twisting as it morphs into a swirling vortex of blood, bone and teeth. “Give my best, to Miss Kennari.”
“See little Kitty…We are one of the same. What is good or bad really?” The unseelie fey enquiries, before suddenly the tip of a sword, his sword, bursts up through her chest. The blade continues to move, cutting open a cavity of jutting bone and rock in the fey’s chest, though which the blood soaked form of the familiar fey sprite Levkoy steps forth. The body of Kekra melting and reforming into the entrance as wide as a cave mouth to accommodate the now elongating form of Levkoy, as stepping through it he grows into the terrifying chilling figure before him of Vanhin. “You should just have give me what was mine young Mitttens Mckittens,” they scowl at him with their blood red gaze, their raised expectant open palm now twisting as it morphs into a swirling vortex of blood, bone and teeth. “Give my best, to Miss Kennari.”
They strike-
Mittens awakes, his heart thumping in his chest.
He casts his sight around the room, stopping upon the indent on the sheets beside him where Levkou had spent his many times re-summoned vigil for the evening.
Alone..Alone…Alone… The darkness around him now seems to whisper…Before a voice then echoes aloud in his mind, a familiar one, his teacher’s-yet not. “You could find out more about them…” Says Miss Kennari’s voice. “…All you have to do. Is Ask.”
Mittens eyes move to his right arm, his gaze tracing the lines of bare skin now cut into his fur by Vanhin’s ‘retrieval’ of the box of teeth after his defiant response.
The fire in the study flickers to life with a sudden summoned warm burst of flame.
Mittens takes at seat at the desk before reaching over the pile of half finished letters to his parents to pulls a fresh piece of parchment from a drawer.
He lays it flat and uncorks a bottle.
Then with a quill nib wetted with ink, he begins to write.
Dear Mr Artolos,
I took something I shouldn’t from the Summer Warrens.
A box of Teeth. One, told to me, to be stolen by The Summer Court. And then stolen by me I guess.
I was tricked, and now they have got it back. The Unseelie.
I am sorry I was not truthful about this earlier, and so I am telling you now, incase this brings any trouble to you or other people of The Feywild.
Yours, truthfully
-from now on,
Mittens Mckittens.
Ps. Sorry about naming my goat after you, I really did mean it in a nice way.
