Flynne

I stand Up, knock on the hard pine door, and wait, my stomach complaining noisily as the smell of Hurricane’s famous stew filled the air. Ever since I met the Larkspurs, the mystery and intrigue of the Black Forest was too much to ignore, so I started making monthly trips to their house, then twice a month, then weekly. And then, I started wandering closer and closer to Moonflower Valley, wondering just how close I could get to the kingdom without actually being in its territory. One little sound—the snap of a twig, wings fluttering as a bird took flight overhead—and I’d bolt all the way back home.

My parents let me wander around the South Pack without supervision, and as long as I’m in the house by sundown they don’t ask many questions.

A tourmaline-blue-haired boy opens the door and gives a start when he sees me. “I didn’t know you were coming today.” Rainpelt steps to the side so I can come in.

“Neither did I, but something came up.”

The Larkspurs live in a den—which is a house made into the ground. That’s the traditional fox dwelling, because in the wild our animal ancestors dig holes in the earth to live in. Theirs is a hollowed out series of hills, with polished wood floors and many circular windows. Their door is a large circle too, with a beautiful ringed pattern.

A river runs beneath their house, and they did a fantastic job at covering it up. They use it to store any perishable items such as meat and milk. (The Larkspurs have a few goats and ducks.)

“So, what is it this time?” Rainpelt asks, interested, as we walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. “Discover a new civilization? Slay a dragon? Hey, did you bring me that map yet?”

“No, no, and I have not,” I tell him. “Sorry. Look, earlier I was exploring near the—” I cock my head and my eyes widen. “Uh oh.”

There’s a pattering of footsteps behind me. Then—

“Flynne!” Moonshine jumps over the back of the couch on All-Fours, sailing right between me and Rainpelt and skittering to a halt on the floor. The black and white fox shakes her head and Stood Up, grinning.

“Hi, Moonshine!” I let out a sigh of relief. Considering Moonshine’s usual crash-landings, I’m relieved that she’s not hurt anywhere this time. “How you doin’?”

“Well, today I woke up with a sore throat, so Lightningbolt made me have cough syrup, which is gross,” she narrates, her hands making wild gestures in the air. “I mean, who mixes onion and honey? Blegh. And then instead of making quiche for breakfast like he said he would, Hurricane made soup. But soup isn’t a breakfast meal! So then I was like, ‘No, Hurricane, I am not eating that.’ But then Shadowpaw told me that if I ate breakfast, he’d take me to the market tomorrow, so, you know. Obviously I ate breakfast. Then I decided I wanted to go to the garden, so I went outside—well, first I put on my boots, and then…” As Moonshine continues her play-by-play of the day, Rainpelt gives her a look and pokes her in the rib cage with his foot.

Moonshine pretends not to notice but takes a step away from her older brother. “Flynne, can you pretend to ignore someone, or is it just the same as ignoring them?” She shoots a pointed glare in Rainpelt’s direction.

“It’s the same as ignoring them.” I nod with my eyes closed to make a point somehow. “And that’s rude.”

“Oh. Then in that case—” Moonshine turns her head to return Rainpelt’s look and puts her hands on her waist. “Rainpelt. Do not. Touch me. With. Your. Disgusting. Toes. Again.”

“Moonshine, I was talking to Flynne,” he says, tucking his feet beneath the couch.

“Yeah, well, so was I.”

Rainpelt gets up slowly, looks down at his little sister like a hawk, and swiftly picks her up and throws her onto the second couch. She erupts into a fit of giggles as he grabs a cushion, puts it on top of her, and shakes it, making her laughs of glee come out sounding like she’s speaking into a fan.

I watch mutely from the couch, entranced by the playful and yet dominative nature of their tousle. I sometimes wish I had an older brother. Or a younger sister. Or any siblings at all.

After a few moments, he releases the pillow and returns to his seat beside me. Moonshine’s giggles slowly subside into an infrequent squeal.

“She’s fine.” He leans back and stretches his neck. “Anyway, you were saying? ‘You were exploring near the’…?” he prompted.

“Right. I—”

The annoying clang of Hurricane’s dinner bell rings, and I flinch at the sudden noise.

“That’s dinner,” he declares, rising beside me. “You really have wonderful timing,” he shouts at his brother, walking to the dining room. Hurricane tousles his hair as he signs something to him, and Rainpelt just heaves a loud sigh.

“You guys are so annoying,” he says, taking the napkins from Hurricane and beginning to set the table.

I walk past him and Hurricane and into the kitchen to help Sunray, Rainpelt’s twin sister, bring out the plates.

“Hey Flynne,” the golden-haired girl greets me, drying a soup spoon with a bright blue dish towel. “What’ve you been up to lately?”

“I joined my town’s track team,” I say, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

“Ha! About time,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “You love running more than you love us, ya weirdo.”

“You guys make it so easy, though.” Sunray flicks my arm and I chuckle as I open the dish cabinet. I carefully organize seven bowls into two neat piles on the counter. “How’s life?” I wonder.

“Pretty lifey,” Sunray shrugs, putting a handful of spoons into one bowl and taking them to the counter. I follow her with the rest. “Moonshine woke up with a sore throat and she was being difficult. We’re eating breakfast leftovers for dinner. I think that says a lot. Oh! But Shadowpaw, er, acquired some bread from a market.” She winks at me.

I sit in my usual spot at the Larkspur’s dinner table, between Rainpelt and Sunray. I always look forward to eating Hurricane’s food—whether it’s a roasted vegetable concoction or sweet and spicy chicken, and especially the rare sweet meats and eggs when he does breakfast for dinner. (And, cough, when Shadowpaw goes… er… shopping.)

“Ta-da!” Hurricane mouths, setting a big blue pot in the center of the table on a thick crocheted potholder. He disappears into the kitchen and reappears with a basket of the dinner rolls Sunray mentioned earlier in one hand, and a pitcher of berries and mint water in the other.

All the Larkspurs are tall—they got it from their dad—but I think Hurricane takes the cake. He’s only fifteen, but he’s a little taller than Shadowpaw, who just turned seventeen a few months ago.

Hurricane signs something after his hands are free, causing his siblings to laugh.

I’m not very fluent in FSL (Fox Sign Language, not to be confused with Florian Sign Language. The two are extremely different), so whenever Hurricane signs something, I either don’t notice it or I just copy Sunray’s reaction.

And Hurricane isn’t deaf; that’s not why he uses FSL—he’s actually cursed.

Oh, gosh, you’re confused, aren’t you? Well, let me explain…

About fifty or so years ago, the Larkspur’s grandad was young and had a knack for talking his way into trouble. Not out. In.

He loved to travel and made quite a few enemies while abroad, joking and insulting people and generally making himself look bad.

Despite everything, though, he was a nice enough man. He was just young and stupid at the time. (Rainpelt’s exact words, actually.)

Well, if there was ever a person to hold yourself together around, the Sorceress of Cactusflower Kingdom was her. (Mr Larkspur did get around.)

One evening, while drunk and at a bar, he spoke rather crassly to her and, as Lightningbolt had put it, nearly disgraced the family name.

Enraged by his disrespect, she decided to teach him a lesson and cast a spell upon him that stole his voice.

While he was still shocked and confused, she explained to him what she had done. He would never speak again for the rest of his life, and his second son, and his son’s second son, and so on, would also bear his curse as punishment (why the second son? Who knows, but he certainly didn’t ask her). And so, Mr. Larkspur’s second son was my friend’s father, passing on the curse to a third generation. Honestly, I don’t appreciate generational curses. Hurricane did nothing wrong, so why is he punished? It just doesn’t make any sense.

After Shadowpaw leads the prayer to Genevieve, the Goddess of creation and the Queen of all gods and goddesses, and everyone serves themselves, I tell the table—not just Rainpelt—about where I’d gone earlier today.

“Hey guys, guess what?” I take a dinner roll and place it beside my bowl on the table.

“What?” they chorus.

“Okay, today I was near Moonflower Valley and—”

Shadowpaw pauses mid-sip from his spoon and looks at me, and the silence that radiates off of him quiets me. He sets down his spoon, never breaking eye contact. “You went to Moonflower Valley?”

“Well, not in there, but—”

“Flynne, that place is really dangerous—you know that, right?”

“Well, technically, the forest is also really dangerous, but you guys still live here instead of coming to the South Pack, so…”

“That’s different, Flynne. The packs betrayed us when we asked for help. They left us to deal with our own—” (a glance around the table and a calming breath.) “Flynne. There are six of us. We have locks on our door. We’re safe.”

“There were a lot of people in the East Pack and they still got destroyed.” I have to admit that was low, and I don’t really know why I said it. But I don’t take it back, because it is true.

“Yes, and they did that.” Shadowpaw squeezes his bread so aggressively that the melted cheese in the center oozes out. “They killed my family, and they could kill you, too.”

“Stop saying they,” I retort. “You don’t know anyone from there. What if the people were all different? What if, instead of mindless killers, there were mothers, fathers, children? What if you gave them a chance?”

“My parents gave them a chance.” His eyes blaze with anger. “You saw where that got them.” He stands and stalks away, slamming the door to his room.

I glare after him and rake my hand through my hair, pulling it over my forehead and hiding my face from view. An awkward silence fills the room, and Rainpelt and Hurricane get up from their seats to follow their brother. Shadowpaw can be so… so… Gah! I can’t even properly be mad at him, because I understand why he’s upset! I do. But still… he’s so infuriating!

“Well, now that the boys are gone, we can PARTY!” Moonshine declares, breaking the silence. I pull my hair out of my face to see her standing on her chair and grinning triumphantly.

“Sit down.” Lightningbolt pulls her by the elbow until she sits on her bottom.

Moonshine pouts, but an idea crosses her mind—and her face, too. “You know, I think I’ll also retire for the evening,” she says primly, pushing away her bowl of soup and standing. (On the floor this time.)

“Eat your food,” Lightningbolt orders.

“Ugh! But I already ate this for breakfast. And how come the boys didn’t eat?”

“Because they’re older,” Sunray says in sync with Lightningbolt’s “They are going to eat, they’re just having a conversation right now.”

Moonshine and Sunray wink slyly at each other. I got you, she signed to her little sister.

I look at my full bowl of soup. It’s still steaming, and it smell incredible, but I’ve lost my appetite.

“I’m going to go now, alright? Enjoy your dinner,” I tell them, standing and pushing my chair in.

“Aw, okay.” Lightningbolt stands and hugs me. “Are you alright? Are you sure you don’t wanna tell us what you did? We won’t tell Shadowpaw,” she adds conspiratorially.

I glance skeptically at Moonshine.

She puts a hand on her heart, offended. “Do you think I can’t keep a secret? Me? I am so offended right now.” She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Flynne. I am the best secret keeper in the world. My mouth is like a steel trap—nothing can escape from it.”

Sunray snorts. “I’d like to hear that more often. Or rather, not hear it.” She gives Moonshine a look out of the corner of her eye, and Moonshine sticks her tongue out at her.

I bite my bottom lip. Well, if they’re going to twist my arm about it… So I tell them. Their reaction is what I imagined Rainpelt’s being; wary at first, then intrigued, and then extremely excited.

As I leave, something stirs inside me, some sort of anticipation. It feels almost as if bumping into Clementine would affect my future in some life-altering way. Like the delicate balance between Moonflower Valley and the Fox Packs had been tipped when I met her. I laugh and shake it off, dropping to All-Fours. I’m being ridiculous. One girl can’t change my life.

…Can she?