White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* Circulation: 195,106,233 Issue: 822 | 6th day of Eating, Y20
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Taking a Trip


by jaydeed

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     Taking a Trip

     The Mountain Lodge. Again. Taliskerdragon sighed, his green tail twitching as he waited to check in. The pretty Strawberry Kacheek behind the counter was busy with a Magma Lenny fussing about the temperature of the sauna and hadn't done more than flash him an apologetic smile.

     Boris liked mountains, that was true, but why did his owner always pick this place for him to stay? He knew every inch of the lodge, every meal on the menu, every view from every window. Coming here wasn't fun. Coming here was boring!

     Decision made, he picked up his suitcase and hurried to the door. He didn’t HAVE to stay here! He was six years old and he knew his way around Neopia. He wouldn't fall for the tricksters in the Haunted Woods or let an alien Aisha persuade him to waste his nerkmids in the Vending Machine.

     Outside, a chilly wind blew and he huddled his plaid jacket around him, wishing his owner had given him gloves and boots. He wouldn't have needed them inside the lodge, of course.

     Choosing a path leading into the forest, he set off. The path led to a village, he was sure of it, and he'd find a different place to stay for the Month of Running. When his owner came back for him, he'd be waiting in the Mountain Lodge lobby and she'd be none the wiser.

     Grinning, excited by the adventure ahead, after a mile or so, he broke into a run. The path sloped steeply here, towering chestnut trees to the right, and a drop to the valley to his left. His front paws skidded on wet leaves. Gasping with shock, he fought to keep his balance, but his suitcase flew out of his paw, sliding over the edge of the cliff and out of sight. Taliskerdragon lay sprawled on the ground, bruised and sore, head spinning. Oh, no! His suitcase had been packed by his owner this morning with all sorts of treats for him, like a bag of wine gums – his favorite candy—a much-cuddled Hannah Plushie and an expensive costume for the Fancy Dress Ball the Lodge held once a month. He'd planned to dress up as a pirate –again—but she'd shaken her head, smiling happily, and told him that she'd saved enough Neopoints to get him the costume of his dreams.

     He'd been so thrilled he'd spun around in circles and gotten his tail tangled with his back paws, needing a quick dose of Magic Goop to make his sprained tail feel better.

     Crawling forward, cautious and breathless, he peered over the edge. His suitcase had landed on an outcrop of rock, but the lid had sprung open and raindrops were soaking the contents, falling from a sky as grey as his mood.

     Channeling his hero, Armin, who'd conquered the Ice Caves fearlessly, he reached for his case, but he knew his short front legs wouldn't allow him to retrieve it. He'd have to climb down, then scramble back up.

     "I'm scared," he said aloud, the wind whipping his words away, stealing them from the air and scattering them.

     Closing his eyes, he wished himself back at the lodge, swimming in the pool, warm water gently splashing his face, or curled up in the library by the fire with one of his favorite books, like 'Claw of the Bori' , waiting for dinner to be announced. On his first night, he always had a Lime Bori Cupcake for dessert…

     Admitting his fear somehow lessened it. He wasn't lost, or hurt, or even hungry. A rumble from his tummy made him realize maybe that last part wasn't true, but his owner had given him a Baby Cabbage Hot Dog before sending him to the Lodge, so he was a long way from true hunger.

     No, what he felt was shame at his lack of gratitude and the way his foolishness had led to the loss of his belongings. Neopoints didn't grow on trees. Well, maybe the Money Tree, but his owner didn't go there often. Replacing his clothes, books, and toys would mean his owner would have to work hard playing games to replace them.

     Filled with new determination, he opened his eyes and rose. He couldn't reach his case without help, but if he found a long stick and hooked it through the handle, then maybe… No, that wouldn't work, not with the case open. He'd retrieve it and scatter the contents over the hillside, adding littering to his naughtiness.

     A high screech had him jumping, heart beating fast. A monster! He'd heard tales of ghost and zombie pets wandering the woods and took them for stories. All the pets he knew painted that way were sweet as could be. Maybe the tales were true though.

     The screech was repeated, but it came, not from the trees, but the air. Taliskerdragon squinted up at the clouds, wishing he had his Wooden Telescope handy. That would have made it easy to spot whatever--

     Oh! A Woodland Eyrie, majestic, wings spread wide, was circling overhead. No, was arrowing toward him, moving fast!

     Taliskerdragon skipped back quickly, glancing around for a hiding place, but the Eyrie was already landing, the beat of his wings strong enough to have Taliskerdragon stumbling.

     "Easy there, young Bori. I saw you from afar and it seemed you were in need of help. The woods are safe enough, but not with darkness on the way."

     The voice was deep and kind, bringing reassurance and comfort in place of fear. Taliskerdragon sighed, head slumping. He was such a silly Bori at times. This was no ghost and no threat either. When would he learn to control his imagination? Though his owner said a vivid imagination was a blessing, so perhaps it wasn't that at the root of his problem.

     "Thank you! My case… I tripped and it…" He gestured, and the Eyrie nodded, rising in a swirl of air. "No, wait!" Swallowing hard, he asked, "I want to get it back myself, but if you could help, that would be wonderful."

     "By yourself?" The Eyrie settled back on the ground. "Is that wise?"

     "Maybe not, but I got myself into this mess, and it doesn't seem right that I let someone else rescue me."

     "Stubborn as a Skeith," the Eyrie said, but he smiled as he spoke. "Let me propose a compromise. I put you on the ledge and you can gather your belongings. Then I will take the case and let you climb up by yourself."

     "Oh, thank you!"

     The journey down to the ledge took his breath away. The Eyrie simply rose, took Taliskerdragon in his claws, and beat his wings until there was air beneath Taliskerdragon, not earth. He cried out, startled, but there was no fear inside him, only a sparkling, shifting wave of astonishment. Glorious!

     The Eyrie chuckled and called out, "Brave little Bori!"

     Then the world dropped away and Taliskerdragon closed his eyes until the scrape of stone against his paws told him he was on solid ground again. The ledge was wide enough for his task to be accomplished easily, though the items within the case were damp and would need drying. The Eyrie took the case from him, hovering effortlessly, then flew up, leaving Taliskerdragon very much alone.

     He swallowed and began the climb. Boris were nimble enough, but the rocks were slick with rain and the wind rising. His paw slipped and he slid back, grazing his leg on a sharp stone.

     "You can do it."

     Was it the Eyrie speaking? He heard the words inside his head, not through his ears, urging him to try again, to be as brave as he needed. Not far now. Not far—The edge of the cliff crumbled under his weight and Taliskerdragon had no time to cry out, no time to reach for another hold. He fell, a long endless plummet into darkness, with the wind a thin net, pushing against him without supporting him, his body twisting, falling, always falling.

     He didn't close his eyes, so he saw the darkness take a shape, a wide-winged shape, arrowing toward him and then he was held firmly by claws that dug in painfully, but he didn't mind. His stomach lurched, and he dangled limply, his strength exhausted, his mind blank.

     Dimly, he became aware that the Eyrie wasn't taking him back to the cliff, but taking him higher, until the trees became the ground, a thick mass of green turned dark, robbed of color but given voice by the wind, the leaves rustling until he wasn't sure where the sweep of wings ended and the rush of leaves began.

     His journey ended as it had earlier; at the door of the lodge.

     He collapsed when the claws released him and panted, his chest tight, each breath an effort.

     "Brave little Bori."

     "What? No! I fell. I failed." He repeated the last words in a whisper. "I failed."

     "I saw the cliff fail, not you. Wait and I'll bring you your case."

     Too exhausted to do more than nod, Taliskerdragon did as he was told, slowly gathering his scattered thoughts. What an adventure! He'd flown, actually flown…

     His case landed before him with a thud and he struggled up, legs wobbly. "Thank you. Again. For everything. For—"

     But he was speaking to air, empty air. Far above he though he heard the beat of wings, but the Eyrie had gone. Leaving a confused, tired little Bori to trudge through the lodge doors and up to the reception desk.

     "I'm late, I know," he told the Kacheek, "but I, uh, went for a walk."

     She giggled. "You look as if you went to the top of Terror Mountain and back!"

     A mirror hung on the wall and when he saw his reflection, he saw what she meant. He was muddy from his ears to the tip of his tail and leaves clung to the mud.

     "I fell."

     It was the truth, if only part of it. Waiting for her to complete his check-in, he wandered over to a dark corner of the lobby, where pictures hung on the wall, covering the faded paper. He wasn't surprised to see a Woodland Eyrie in one of them. Something told him that his rescuer had ties to this place, that he was no visitor. But this wasn't his friend--

     "That was the original owner of the lodge," the Kacheek told him, coming around the desk to hand him his key. "He suffered terribly from Pollenitus so I doubt you met him on any of your earlier visits. He retired to Mystery Island last month and –"

     "And I took over," a deep voice said. "Welcome to Mountain Lodge, young Bori."

     Taliskerdragon smiled without turning. He knew who stood behind him and he knew he wouldn't mind visiting the lodge as often as his owner liked.

     Nowhere was dull with a friend. Especially when that friend had wings.

          

          

          

      The End.

 
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