Hey! If you haven’t read last week’s post, you should probably go do that now. But if you have, then go ahead! No jibber jabber today. *wink*

Actually, a little jibber jabber. One of my character’s name is Moonshine, and when I gave her that name I was ten, and I was thinking of the light that comes from the moon. Like sunshine. I’ve thought about changing her name, but we’re all going to just have to be mature and ignore its alternative meaning and think of the moon, and only the moon, when we read my novel. (I do it all the time, very easy once you get the hang of it.)

Also, the cover image was found on Pinterest, I didn’t create it. If you want to comment something nice to whoever did, visit Pinterest here.

Warning: Favorite character may change.

This chapter is dated. For more recent content, click here.

Chapter 2

The Thief

Flynne

My heart pounded in my ears as I ran through the forest.

I can’t believe it! I just met a girl from Moonflower Valley! And I didn’t die! That means they aren’t all evil, like Shadowpaw said.

I can’t really blame him, though, because the Florians are responsible for both his parents’ deaths.

But Clementine is different. I can tell — that’s why I gave her the antidote.

I decided to pay Shadowpaw and his siblings a visit, because I needed to tell someone about the earlier events and I would be in a lot of trouble if I told anybody in the Southern pack because:

A.) I was near Moonflower Valley.

B.) I spoke to a Florian.

And C.) I was in the Black Forest without my mother’s permission. (The scariest person to disobey by far.)

So, today I broke three MAJOR rules, and yes. I wanted to tell somebody about my rule-breaking because that’s half the fun of it.

Panting, I stopped running and laid down in the tall grass surrounding the Larkspur’s home to catch my breath. The Larkspur siblings — there are six — live in a hollowed out hill a few miles south of the abandoned Eastern pack, and a few miles north of the Southern pack where I live. I smiled as I remembered the day I’d met them.

* * *

I was cold. Freezing. And bored. Very bored.

It was late winter, and I was tending Mom’s stall while she bought soaps, herbs, essential oils and other ‘Mom Stuff’. She left me in charge, and at first I was excited! She trusted that me, Flynne, her eleven-year-old daughter could take care of important things! But she’s been gone for ages and I’ve only had, like, six customers.

Only

Six

Customers.

I rested my chin on my fists, sighing and looking around. My mom told me not to look bored because I’d scare away potential customers, but how could I help it? I was bored.

Other stalls had customers, like the juice bar to my right and the doughnut stall to my left. Hey! I should get a doughnut.

I bent down to grab the closed sign from the container beneath the table and saw a perfectly golden-brown bread bun roll under the table and bump my fingers.

I poked my head above the table to see where it came from. The stall across from mine was selling a modest assortment of breads and had a single customer, a banged, black-haired teenage boy who was talking to the girl in charge. I rolled my eyes and was about to duck under the table again because, blegh, teenagers, but then I noticed the boy was stealing bread from her, and slipping them into his satchel!

Absolutely unacceptable.

I marched right up to the table and opened my mouth to tell the girl what he was doing, but then they noticed me and she spoke to me first.

“Hi sweetie! How can I help you?” she wondered, doing that thing that I absolutely hate and talking to me like I’m a baby. Seriously, woman? I’m eleven. I’m practically an adult. She started listing off the different breads that she had, like a true salesperson. “—rye, sourdough, sweet buns — oh.” She cocked her head at the table. “I don’t have any left. That’s weird, I haven’t sold that many today….” She bent under the table to look for reserves, I guess, and I took that opportunity to talk to the thief.

“You’d better put those back,” I whispered to him. “Or else I’ll tell that girl.”

He sighed and shook his head, then crouched down to my height even though he didn’t have to because he was only like, seven inches taller than me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.”

“You’re a liar.”

“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart. And I’m not the liar — he is.” The boy pointed in the opposite direction and I turned to look. There was no one there. I turned to tell him as much, but he was gone, nothing but a swishing tail left in his wake. I dropped to All-Fours and prepared to run.

“I knew I had some!” The hapless vendor girl came up with a satisfied smile on her face. She placed a handful of the bread on the table. “So, this is the — oh. Where’d they go?”

I’ll tell you where we went — into the Black Forest unsupervised as I chased the thief.

I love to run. Running gives more joy than anything else. When I run, I feel free, like I’m on my own, yet a part of the wind, if that makes any sense.

And when I run with a purpose, I feel like I can run forever.

The thief must’ve felt like this too, because it felt like we did run forever. And in many loops and turns until it felt like he was trying to shake me.

I slowed, out of breath, and then I realized…

He was gone.

A cramp formed in my stomach, but I tried to ignore it. I had to find him. There was NO WAY I was letting him get away with stealing.

I dropped my snout to the ground and inhaled. Once I had his scent, I moved swiftly through the trees and under hedges until I gave myself a rest and discovered…

I had absolutely no idea where I was. And to make matters worse, it was almost dark; I was starving, and I had running cramps.

I Stood-Up and clutched my side, trying to get a better perspective. “Uh, hello?” I said uneasily, my voice quavering like a much smaller child than eleven years. “Is anybody there?”

No response.

I shivered; a bitter wind blew and settled into my skin. I knew I would freeze if I stayed out in the winter evening any longer, so I picked a direction and hoped it was south.

It was not. I realized this a few minutes later when I saw the sun’s last weak rays shine behind me. I was going east.

“Mr. Thief!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. “Hello? Are you out there? I need help. I can’t find my way home!” Unwillingly, my eyes watered. “No, Flynne. No crying,” I told myself sternly. “You got yourself into this mess. You can get your way out.” I thought for a moment. “If I’m going east, then that’s west… and that way is North… then that means this way is… south!” I turned to my right and pumped my fist in the air. “Yes! Never mind, Mr. Thief! Enjoy your bread! Goodbye!”

I walked forward, delighted with myself for figuring out which way was south. I heard running and looked over to my left. I could smell the bread coming closer — that meant it was Thief coming back!

I suddenly didn’t want to see him, so I ran.

Or at least, I tried to. I took one step forward and something tightened on my ankle and pulled me up, and then I was upside down.

“Ow.” The pain stunned me into a dizzy haze. My ankle felt like I pulled it out of its place and it throbbed with pain. For a moment, I hung there upside down, dazed.

Then, the boy that I’d chased emerged from the bushes, his little brown satchel still stuffed with bread. He said an extremely naughty word when he saw me hanging upside down like a bat. He pulled out a knife as he stepped towards me and my eyes widened.

“Don’t be afraid, kid. I’m just going to cut the rope,” he told me, and sawed through the coarse fibers.

The pain in my ankle was all I could properly focus on, so I was relieved that he didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, usually I could take him, but not while I’m upside down, because, well, you know. He’d have an unfair advantage.

He grabbed my arm, pulled me towards him, finished cutting the rope, and then he slung me over his shoulder.

“Ach! Put me down!” I scrambled and kicked quite hard in an area that should never be kicked and he doubled over, putting me down carefully on the ground. I made the mistake of standing on both feet, and the pain that shot through my right ankle was crippling. I winced and leaned back on the tree that someone had tied the rope to and slid off my boot, turning my leg to observe my ankle.

“It’s so purple,” I breathed. “How?”

“You sprained it,” the boy winced, recovering from my kick. He took a step over to me and kneeled down to inspect my ankle. “Does this hurt?” he gently tapped my skin where it was a blueish purple.

“No.”

“What about—”

“Yes — don’t do that!” I pleaded. My tolerance for pain was nothing.

“This is wonderful,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He stood and turned around, thinking. When he looked back at me, he spoke. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Flynne, the one and only.”

“Hi Flynne; I’m Shadowpaw. Look, right now we’re about two miles away from the South Pack—”

“Two miles?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I can either help you back now, or we can go to my house and my sisters can give you some pain-killer for that ankle of yours and I’ll take you back then. What’ll it be, kid?”

“Don’t call me that.” I considered it. “Well, will I be able to walk with the pain-killer?” I wondered.

“Definitely. And my house is on the way, actually.”

“Then yes. As long as you don’t try anything funny, mister.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, kid. You pack one heck of a kick.”

“Ahh, don’t call me that.”

He fashioned a crutch out of a fallen branch and some rope for me, and he kept me distracted by talking to me.

He said he has younger sisters who he thinks will like me because I’m funny. He thinks I’m funny! Which is actually kind of weird because nothing I said was a joke…

At last, Shadowpaw declared we were ‘home’. There was no house in sight, though.

He led me through a thick wall of ivy into a dark passage where he insisted on carrying me because he didn’t want me to slip and get hurt again. (I resisted kicking him this time.) When we stepped through the other side, I took note of the big, grassy ocean of hills and the burbling sound of a nearby river. There were flagstones leading up to a circular wooden door in the biggest hill. Shadowpaw set me down and helped me get to the door, which he opened with a great flourish.

He shivered and rubbed his arms as we walked inside. “You can sit there,” he pointed to two plush, worn couches in the middle of a large, yet cozy, living room.

I swung expertly on my make-shift crutches and sat on the first couch in the room.

“Anybody home?” Shadowpaw shouted, taking off his shoes and putting them against the wall.

I looked around the house curiously. The living room had two couches; one was pure white (bad decision, there, with six children) and the other had clearly once been white but now stood with an aggressively loved off-white hue.

It doesn’t take a detective to know that the white couch is likely new.

There was a soft, lush and emerald green moss carpet beneath my feet, and an empty fireplace across from me. A large pile of logged hickory wood lay beside the brick studded fireplace, and family pictures stood on the mantle. There was a box labeled ‘fire starters’.

“Why’s the fire out?” Shadowpaw muttered, piling logs into the ashy hearth.

I could hear him struggling to get the fire started, and I looked at the pictures on the mantle. “Are those your parents?” I wondered, nodding to a wedding picture even though his back was to me.

Shadowpaw was quiet for a short while, intent on starting the fire. “Yeah. Beautiful, aren’t they?”

I nodded. “And you look just like your dad.”

The logs finally caught, at once giving the frigid winter-night-air warmth and a hint of hickory. Shadowpaw rose with a sharp intake of breath and looked around the room, not meeting my eyes.

I heard the door open and turned, my eyebrows raised curiously.

“Ah — Rainpelt! This is Flynne. She sprained her ankle and I need to give her some painkillers before I take her back to the South Pack. Oh, and say hi.”

A short, dark blue-haired fox was standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise. “What the…” his green eyes were filled with an intriguing mixture of curiosity and mischief, landing on my own. “Excuse me while I faint.” He cleared his throat and then collapsed to the floor, a loud thud resounding through the room. “Ow! There is pain. In my head.” He sat up, rubbing his head. “I am much smarter than throwing myself on the floor, New Person. Usually. My name is Rainpelt.”

“I’m Flynne, the one and only. Are you sure your head is okay? I sprained my foot and guess what? Pain is awful.”

“That is typical when it comes to pain. Alright, Rainpelt, I need a favor.” Shadowpaw pulled on his boots once again, and it surprised me by how seriously he took the ‘No shoes inside’ rule. “Can you stay with ‘Flynne The One And Only’ while I get Lightningbolt?”

“Are you kidding me?” Rainpelt asked, eyes wide. “That’s a favor? I wasn’t going anywhere anyway! There is a person in our living room. I’m staying right here,” he walked over to the white couch and rolled onto it, “and I’m going to talk. Endlessly. For hours and hours and hours.”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes,” Shadowpaw told him.

“Actually, five minutes,” I corrected him. “Otherwise, I might go deaf.”

“I’m not that annoying,” Rainpelt objected quietly, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling.

“Five minutes,” Shadowpaw amended, smiling. He saluted to Rainpelt and the blond-haired boy saluted back halfheartedly.

“Did you know you have the honor of being the first person I speak to who’s not related to me in my whole life?” he told me once his brother walked out the door. He sat up, his eyes excited and intriguing.

“Ha! Like I’d believe that, mister.” I told him.

“Why, because I have such a beautiful way with words and excellent social skills?” he said haughtily, putting a hand on his chest. “Thanks, I practice often.” But shortly after Rainpelt narrowed his eyes in thought. “I guess you have a point though. Well, it was really only three years, but—”

“No, seeing as you’re only three that checks out,” I cut in, extremely pleased by the glare he gave me.

“Excuse me, I’m actually…” he paused in thought. Finally he said, “I’m eleven years old. Wait, just— look, let me explain…” he proceeded to tell me his entire life story.

“Three years ago, a little while after my dad died, the Florian army destroyed the old Pack.”

I raised my eyebrows in shock. “You guys are from the Eastern Pack? My mom tells me about it whenever I ask why we’re not friends with Moonflower Valley.”

Rainpelt nodded, not seeming at all fazed by the retelling of his history. “They came at midnight during a new moon. Shadowpaw sometimes says that they made a huge bonfire with the homes and he also uses the word ‘bloodbath’, but I don’t really know what it means so I’m not going to use it.”

“It’s like, killing, or something,” I told him.

His eyebrows went up and he nodded exaggeratedly, deep understanding washing over him. “Oh. Thanks. That’s when my mom died.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, surprised. He had said that so lightly, but that was no small thing. I tried to imagine what it would be like if my mom and my dad died. It was impossible to imagine my life without them. “I’m sorry.”

“I-It’s oka—” he paused and licked his lips, thinking. “I mean, thanks. I don’t really remember my parents, though, so… well. Sometimes I imagine what they were like. Shadowpaw says they were really nice and good ‘Alphas’, but…” I could see the emotional war on Rainpelt’s face, anger and fear grappling with sadness and something else that was tender and small. He dropped his head to look at his hands, which were clasping each other tightly and turning white. When he looked back at me, he had his easy smile on again.

“Anyway. Finally the Eastern warriors kicked the army’s butts, but not before the city was destroyed. The numbers of the Eastern Pack were a lot smaller, and by sunrise the next day, the survivors had decided to leave. They didn’t stand a chance against the army if they were to come back. So they all left for the Northern Pack, because they’re the biggest and safest.”

“Then why did you guys stay?” I wondered. “The Northern Pack is safer.”

Rainpelt shrugged. “Shadowpaw wanted the others to stay with us. He said they couldn’t abandon such a meaningful place, but he was only twelve when that happened, so nobody listened to him.”

“But you guys don’t live in the Eastern Pack now, though,” I pointed out. “How come?”

“Well, you see, after a few days had passed, Shadowpaw realized how little sense he was making. The Eastern Pack was dangerous, and they were under the constant threat of attack if the army returned yet again. So then he took us away from the old Pack and found a safe little hill (That’s here) and him and Hurricane — my other older brother — hollowed out this hill and we moved in. The End.” He clapped for himself and then bowed, muttering the words “Oh, you’re too kind! Please, it was nothing,” softly under his breath in an imaginative sort of way.

I furrowed my brows, thinking. It was weird, the way Rainpelt had told the story. He had hardly used the words ‘my’, ‘we’, or ‘our’ the entire time, even though this had happened to him as well as his siblings. I wonder why he said it like that? I opened my mouth to ask him, but instead I repeated his story back to him.

“So, let me get this straight.” I narrowed my eyes in thought and gestured with my hands. “Your mother and father were the Alphas of the Eastern Pack, but the Florian Army killed them.”

Rainpelt nodded grimly.

“So then, that means that Shadowpaw… that makes him the Alpha, doesn’t it?”

“Bingo!”

“And that means you’re…” I trailed off, cocking my head at him. “You’re a prince?”

He frowned and crossed his arms. “Well, usually people don’t say it with such judgmental disbelief and instead more of a ‘Wow! You’re a prince? Incredible! Kiss my baby!’” He cupped his face with his hands and batted his eyelashes.

“Trust me, nobody would even let you near their baby, much less kiss it. And what do you mean, ‘usually’? I thought two seconds ago I was ‘the first person you’ve spoken to in your entire life’?”

“Well, yeah, but I still think you should bow, at least.”

“My foot is broken.”

“Sprained,” he corrected.

Before I could answer, the door opened and a blond-haired, banged, green-eyed girl walked through the door.

“You’re Flynne?” she said to me, taking off her shoes before proceeding to my side. “Pleasure to meet you! I’m Lightningbolt; the genius and healing savvy part of the Larkspur family.” She addressed me like an equal, introduced herself, and even gave me her hand to shake. I’d met an angel.

I reached out and shook her hand, happy to meet her. “I’m Flynne—

“The one and only!” Shadowpaw said with me.

“Yeah, one and only kicker of my—,” a boy the same age as Lightningbolt elbowed Shadowpaw in the ribs and gave him a look, which made him stop talking, so I never found out exactly how he planned to end that sentence. But I do have a pretty good idea…

“Let’s take a look at that ankle of yours… It’s bad, but it could be worse!” Lightningbolt spoke to me as she massaged my ankle with a wonderfully smelling salve. And just like that, the screaming pain in my ankle was soothed, and I let out a contented sigh.

“Oooh there is a person in our living room!” A dark-haired, fair-skinned girl who looked to be about six or seven years old walked through the front door with an older, golden-haired girl who seemed my age following her. She ran up to me — the younger girl — and stood beside me, just sort of staring at me for a while. “Hi, my name is Moonshine!” she said finally. “I think that you should be my friend because I am very interesting.” She nodded her head as if agreeing with herself. “Very interesting.”

“I’m Flynne, the one and only.”

The little girl — Moonshine — sat on the couch next to me and proceeded to tell me all about her little garden that she adored, which she and her other siblings had been playing in when Shadowpaw had found them and brought them back home to meet me.

The girl who was my age narrowed her eyes at me, looking at my ankle and then my eyes. “Are you a spy?” she asked me, crossing her arms.

I shook my head. “No. I’m just a really unfortunate girl who sprained her ankle. I’m Flynne, the—”

“The ‘one and only’, yes I know,” the girl said suspiciously. “If you aren’t a spy, then what are you?”

“Um… a fox? A kid? An awesome person?” I smiled hopefully as I said the last bit.

“Okay. As long as you aren’t a spy,” the girl shrugged and sat beside Rainpelt. “I’m Sunray. The Fighter. I like fighting. With him, especially,” she pointed at Rainpelt.

He beamed. “That is so true. But I prefer pranks. She’s too good at — I mean, I’m supposed to let her win at wrestling.”

“Yeah right,” Sunray rolled her eyes, and Rainpelt stuck his tongue out at her.

Everyone started talking to each other, and me too, but I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying.

“Wait, everyone stop talking!” I shouted, covering my ears. “I’m not used to so much noise so late, because I don’t have any siblings.”

They all quieted, looking at me curiously.

“That’s weird,” Moonshine decided.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Shadowpaw wondered.

“You guys need to take turns,” I told them. “You can’t all talk at the same time. Then you’re all yelling at the top of your lungs, and I can’t make out a word you’re saying.”

They furrowed their eyebrows, and Lightningbolt handed me a small, deep spoon filled with an awful smelling elixir. “Drink that.”

I wrinkled my nose and slowly opened my mouth, paused, and then shoved the spoon into my mouth. There’s only one way to describe it: Disgusting and foul and revolting.

“Here, I’ll talk,” Moonshine said. “Problem solved.”

“Actually, I need to get Flynne back home,” Shadowpaw remembered, walking over to me and giving me his hand. “C’mon, kid. Let’s get a move on.”

“I told you, don’t call me that,” I sighed, shaking my head and taking his hand. It was much larger than my own.

“Aw, does she have to go?” Moonshine pouted, grabbing my other hand. “Why can’t she stay?”

“She’s got a family to go back to,” Shadowpaw explained. “Like we have ours.”

“You dare defy a lady when she is feeling sad?!” Moonshine pouted.

Shadowpaw rolled his eyes.

“Bye, Flynne,” four of the six siblings chorused, Moonshine and Rainpelt disappointed, Lightningbolt cheerful, and Sunray more or less indifferent. The boy who’d elbowed Shadowpaw earlier made funny shapes with his hands and waved, smiling. Come to think of it, he’d been making funny shapes the whole time, if I’m remembering right.

“Hurricane says bye, too,” Rainpelt told me. “He can’t talk. So the story goes like this—”

“It’s a long story, we’ll tell you another time,” Shadowpaw shook his head at Rainpelt, who sighed and threw himself onto his side on the couch.

I waved to them. “Bye everyone!”

But I wasn’t sad to go. I had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time I saw them…

… So? What did you think? This is take two of chapter two. See you on Tuesday!

-Leah Larkspur (13)