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A Name That Implied So Little, But Meant So Much


by ceasei

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Quietly, the waves kissed the shores of Mystery Island, retreating quickly, unable to embrace the beach. It was dark, and the moon shone brightly, a lone beacon in the soupy, warm night. It cut through the dark like a sliver of hope, high in the cloudless, dark sky. The stars twinkled in the inky sky, few and far between, but these were no match for the beauty, serenity and light that the shining moon portrayed.

     Suddenly, two shooting stars broke from their regal perches and fell spiraling downwards, twisting and spiraling over and around each other, in a death race towards the ground. Tails of bright white spiraled behind them, streaking the night sky and becoming markers of their progress towards the ground, rivaling for once the moon’s beauty and serenity with their own chaotic beauty.

     There they landed, on Neopia, with a twinkle of light instead of the suspected BANG!

     In a secluded cave they landed, where their shine reached an unbearable glow and the suspected BANG followed, leaving a shower of bright light around the space, making the place unbearable to regard, the light otherworldly and otherwise detrimental to anyone who tried to regard the scene. This was not their place.

      Then, as suddenly as it had become, it ceased to exist. But there, in its place, lay the smallest trace of living. Over the weeks it became a visible form, into an outline, into a being, and there stood the offspring of Sirius, tiny and unprotected, lone and unimposing. Meek and unimpressive. No match for the entity who gave it life.

     Large, hazel eyes peered from behind long lashes, and a button nose twitched as she grew accustomed to her surroundings. Overly huge ears were pricked forward in alert as she listened to everything around her, and she stood on large paws clumsily, the proportions adorably wrong on her puppy body. Her small tail flicked flies away occasionally, and she eventually curled up on the sandy floor of the otherwise stone cave, gazing out of the mouth of the aforementioned cave at everything around her.

     She was fascinated and yet repelled; something about her knew the sky and the high perches were more imposing, regal, and beautiful. But something about this world was raw and entertaining, welcoming and yet somehow imposing and terrifying.

     And she was alone.

     There she lay, for who knows how long, head on paws, watching families from the mouth of the cave. How she longed for one, to be a part of something, anything! To know of people and places, and speak, and laugh, and be hugged by one of those strange, two legged creatures, and to belong. She was neither star nor mortal; not accepted in the sky, but she knew she’d never quite fit in here. Never quite.

     It seemed the pup was losing her glow, her longing taking over. She became less star like, and more mortal. But without a family, would she lose the glow all together? This would mean she would cease to exist. That would be the end of her.

     The unbearable brightness began to dim and flicker, like a candle running out of wick. This left the pup a pale blue colour instead of the blinding white, and she closed her heavy lids, shutting out the visions from this new, interesting world. The only one she knew, yet the one she knew she didn’t come from.

      Weeks faded to months, and still she lay there, alone and unseen, without food, water, shelter. Or attention.

     Stars are not meant to be left unregarded; they perch high in the sky, shining brightly, to ensure someone may see them. And they twinkle in happiness, their own thanks. But for this little one, she was nowhere in sight. The vision of Human and Neopet, Faerie and Petpet went unreceived, and she never twinkled.

     But unbeknownst to her, a pack was watching her, judging her every movement. The Wild Lupes of Mystery Island, a ragtag force of some one hundred Lupes.

     And they were led by a fierce Island Lupe by the name of Lupa.

     She was the motherly type, though somewhat scruffy and fierce looking, and she was looking out for the little one, trying to gauge the best time to approach her. Lupa was sure this pup was no ordinary pup. There was something otherworldly about her, and she was sure, whether otherworldly and ethereal or mortal and plain, no one would survive without the proper care or attention. This was all just common sense.

     As the pup began to lose her glow, this was when Lupa stepped in, deeming it the ‘right time’. In retrospect, she could have, and should have, acted faster. But she didn’t; she was playing everything dangerously close to the wire and with horrendously slow and deliberate movements. But this was all in retrospect.

      She was going to help the pup. Grabbing the weak little thing by the scruff of the neck, she took the pup back to the pack, ignoring the looks of holiday makers and Mystery Island residents alike. The little thing was nothing more than a waif; Lupa could have easily forgot she was carrying a living being.

     Back at the den, the pack fed and nurtured her, until she could stand, run, and jump. Then, Lupa finally spoke to the little thing.

     “Feel free to stay with us, Undertall. For that is your name.” That was all she said, before padding away into the pack. Lupa wasn’t one for many words.

     Undertall blinked, once, twice, three times. She was Undertall. A name that implied so little, but meant so much.

     She stayed with them for a while; they treated her kindly, and gave her food. But it was nothing like the families she had observed. She wanted nothing more than to travel, and feel that warmth she could sense from other families! She’d watched others being hugged, and nothing like that happened where she was now. And she most definitely did not speak or laugh. This was not what she had dreamed of.

     She was tiny, that was for certain. But she had a will that was larger than life, and that was what she would finally put to the test. Creeping through the pack, she padded down to the beach.

     The sandy yellow shores were warm and inviting, and the azure sea beckoned invitingly. Undertall pranced amongst the surf, delighting in the cool of the water, but deciding she didn’t like the wet sand embedded in her fur and between the pads of her feet.

     She dragged herself from the water, shaking the damp from her coat. It was then she shivered, and glanced around the beach. A baby Acara was being towel-dried warm; a plushie Ogrin sprawling out with its family, soaking up the last rays of sun. Undertall sighed, shivering at a slight sea breeze.

     Next to her, a Frisbee landed on the sand. She jumped, startled, as a girl jogged up to her, bending over and retrieving the Frisbee. She smiled at Undertall.

     “Sorry! Shorthander here is quite the terrible aim,” she stated, gesturing to a Tyrannian Gnorbu, who looked unfazed. He shrugged.

     Undertall didn’t respond. The girl frowned.

     “Are you lost?” she asked. Undertall shook her head. “Then where is your family?”

     Undertall hesitated, then replied, “I don’t have one.”

     The girl stared at her for a while, shocked. Then she seemed to come to a conclusion. “How about you come home with us?” she asked.

     Undertall’s heart flipped. A family. She could have a family.

     She nodded her head rapidly, and then the girl scooped Undertall up in one swift movement. Undertall nestled in to her warm arms, and smiled to herself.

     She was home.

The End

 
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