Callie's Heroes

PART I - FOR THE HOARD

From the extended awning stretched over the bleacher seating, a pair of tiny eyes watched. They were very curious eyes, and they watched the goings on below with great interest. The owner of the eyes didn’t care at all about the completely furless uprights or the almost massive brawl that never materialized. No, their focus was on one strange animal, and one only. They were watching a lean-muscled creature covered in yellow fur and black spots, still trying to understand what was so curious about her, and why they needed to watch.

The nearby humming of a bumbling bee caught the attention of the eyes, and the owner of the same licked her scaly lips and tensed. The creature had found that these forest bees were delicious, after all, and this one was heavily laden with sweet pollens. She stuck her tail into the air and fanned it out, before causing it to ripple in a pattern of bright, vibrant colors. The bee, being naturally drawn to such things, lazily changed its path, now happy to bumble towards the luring vision. As it drew close, she squinted her eyes, focusing their own blindingly-bright colors towards the bee. It fell, smoke rising from the tiny hole that had been burned through it, landing with a light thump on the canvas. The burned bee rolled towards her, and with a quick lunge of her neck and a snap, there was no more bee. She had been right, and the sweet tastes of the pollen mingled with that of the slightly-cooked insect.

Licking her lips again, the owner of the eyes returned to looking through the gap in the awning. It seemed that whatever the tension had been had waned, and all the uprights below were slowly sitting again. It was a shame, in a way. Part of her would have liked to have seen the spotted one fight for real against the others.

With the promise of action gone, the little creature sighed to itself and lay flat, her head hanging over the edge to keep watching, but now only paying half attention. The sun was warm overhead, a surprisingly bright day, as the morning rains had made it seem it would be dreary instead. She spread out her wings, laying them on the heavy canvas before cycling their colors, looking for just the right one for the sun overhead. Too dark, and she would be too warm. Too bright, she might not be warm enough. She settled on a pastel pink, although would likely need to change it from time to time as the day wore on.

Another bug that she didn’t recognize flew by. She looked at it with one eye, but decided she wasn’t hungry enough any more to try to cook another, the warm sun and bee in her tummy making her feel a little lazy. But the fact she didn’t recognize the bug reminded her that she was a stranger here, and that she was very far from home. It reminded her that she missed the sand. She missed burying herself in the warm top layers with just her nose sticking out, waiting for something delicious to come close enough that she could spring from the sand and snatch it. Beetles were crunchy, although with the big ones you had to eyeburn them open to get the good parts out, and leave the hard parts behind.

She still didn’t really understand why she was here, and was worried that she had made a mistake. She missed her home. She missed waking at dawn to hunt for food, and then sleeping the later hours away until the sun began to set when it cooled again. She could stay out all day if she wanted, but there was little reason since the beetles also hid away from the hot day, so being lazy was better. Now feeling warm and content in the bright sun, she drifted off into a dreaming doze.

It had all started as a normal day, that day that things changed for her. Many days ago; how many was it? Maybe sixteen? Somewhere around there. About sixteen days ago, she had awakened in her cozy shaded den in the rocks. It was a perfect den. Well-protected from both the hot sunshine as well as predators. It was plenty large, probably too large for just her, but giving her the space she needed for what was hers.

She stretched, flexing the claws on the ends of her feet and fluttering her tail to loosen a bit of a cramp. It was time to hunt, but before she could do that, she needed to do one thing. She needed to make sure it was all there and all safe. She’d been sleeping on it, so it would have been practically impossible for anything to have gone missing, but still she needed to be sure it was all there.

The hoard was big for one of her size, quite big in fact, almost as big as she was. Quickly she counted out the many shiny stones and the many colored ones you could see through. Yes, they were all there, right where they’d been the night before. That was good. She’d have been furious if anything was missing. But even more important than the colored and see-thru stones was the piece of golden metal.

It was a big piece of metal, almost half the size of her head, round, heavy, and flat with strange, well-worn carvings on it that she didn’t recognize. Sleeping on the round metal thing felt so good, only in part because it helped regulate her temperature. That was a practical effect, but not the really important one. No, the round metal thing was extra shiny, reflecting the many colors of her wings and tail when she’d ripple them to herself. If she was sad, she could ripple happy colors to be happy. If she was angry, she could ripple calm colors to be calm. It was her favoritest and most-important treasure, and reminded her of how she was once almost a mother.

Over the seasons, many others had tried to mate with her, but they never asked permission, so she simply said no. If they ignored her and tried to force themselves on her, then she would burn their heads off. She had no patience for those rude ones that didn’t ask nicely. One day, though, a suitor came that was different. This one asked permission properly.

He was a wholly unremarkable one of her kind. He was not big, or fast, or strong. He couldn’t ripple his colors better than others, although his ripples were still quite lovely. He was simply average, or maybe even a little less than so. But he had brought a special gift to ask to mate, a golden piece of metal that reflected her face. It was a beautiful way to ask to mate, and it was a perfect addition to her hoard. So she let him mate with her because he asked so nicely, and did not burn off his head. They slept that night together, but come the morning he had used up her patience and she was done with him. She kicked him out of the den and curled up to happily sleep on the cool shiny metal alone.

She didn’t like it when she laid the egg. It hurt and she made strange faces into the shiny metal because of it. But the egg had come eventually, only one, and she cleared a spot for it on her hoard and curled up around it. She was going to be a mother. It would be strange to carry something in her pouch, which until she was with an egg hadn’t opened, but she was looking forward to motherhood.

By the eighth day, she knew the egg would never hatch. She had done everything right. Kept it cool when it was hot, and warmed it up when it was cool. She had even scared off predators several times, but still it was never going to hatch. She denied it to herself for a day, maybe two, but finally had to acknowledge the truth, mostly because it was beginning to smell a little gross. Feeling sad, she did what she had to do, and pushed it out of her den, where it fell off the edge and splattered on the rocks below.

So, she had never been a mother, despite mating with the one that brought her the most-perfect of gifts to ask. A shame it was so, but she still had the shiny piece of metal to remind her, and that was consolation enough. It was her favoritest of her treasures, after all.

The day things changed, hunting had gone well. She found a desert mouse, which was big, but she managed to swallow it in just a few gulps after she used her eyes to cut it into smaller pieces. Then she found a scorpion, and while it tried to sting her, the scales on her body made that impossible, and soon all that was left was the empty, smoking shell. As the morning went on, she found a few other things to eat. Little beetles with thin shells that made a fun crunching sound when chomped on, and a small snake that stretched long as she pulled it out of its den. All the while she kept her eyes out for more shiny stones to add to her hoard, even finding two, which she could now carry back to her den in her never-used mother’s pouch, rather than her mouth.

It was as the sun grew too high for comfort that something changed for the little creature. She had just arrived back at her den, ready to crawl under her hoard to rest against the shiny metal thing when her tummy started to feel strange. To the north and the east, an all together uninteresting direction, something called to her. Something told her to fly and find it. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it, because it was telling her to leave her hoard. Her hoard! She shook the feeling, quickly recounted her hoard to make sure it was all still there, and shuffled partially under the stones. She rippled some colors, watching her reflection in the shiny thing, to help calm the queasiness in her tummy as she drifted into a daytime doze.

She slept until the sun had nearly set. To try and brighten her mood, she had decided she would go out to dance in the darkness, lighting up the skies with her wings. To ripple such blindingly-bright night colors made her happy, and would hopefully counteract the feeling in her belly that was calling her to leave her hoard. She had quickly recounted her hoard, seeing it was all where it should be, and crawled out of the den. Below, something large was sniffing around the rocks, so she rippled a warning to scare it off. When it didn’t immediately leave, she got close enough and burned it with her eyes, causing it to yelp and run away. The threat gone, she took to the sky, making loops and swoops and dancing in the starlight, her wings and tail rippling in brilliant happy colors.

Then it came again. This time it wasn’t just the queasy feeling, but it was an almost painful calling. It was no longer asking her to fly away to the north and east, which was such a wholly uninteresting direction. Now it was demanding that she do it! She had to find … someone. Someone that was in that direction and far, far away. Scared, and in strange pain, she dove from the sky and returned to her den. Despite the pain, she recounted her hoard, and seeing it was all still there, laid down on the gold metal thing, groaning slightly from the tummy ache.

Come the morning, the pain was even worse. It was so bad that she didn’t even go out to hunt. She rippled some colors into the gold metal to try and feel better, but that didn’t help. The pain in her tummy demanding she leave was competing with the pain in her heart at the prospect of leaving her hoard. But what choice did she have? She had to go to the north and the east, even though it was an utterly uninteresting direction, and she couldn’t carry her hoard with her. Finally she could take the pain no more, despite the other pain of leaving her hoard. She walked sadly to the entrance to her den, ready to fly away, but then stopped.

She couldn’t bring her hoard with her, but she had a pouch. Maybe she could bring some of her hoard? Then, at least, nobody could take it all from her, and she’d have something to count and something to sleep on. Forcing herself to barely ignore the painful calling, she started to look through her hoard, setting her favorite stones to the side in a smaller pile. From there, she picked the most favorite from the pile and put them into an even smaller pile. Finally, she made a fourth pile of just the few most-perfectest stones, because while she had a pouch, it could not hold much.

As she stuffed the perfect stones into her pouch, she caught a glimpse of herself in the shiny metal thing. In response, she rippled her tail, which actually made her laugh at the happy colors despite the pain, and then she knew what she had to do. Quickly, she pulled all of the worthless stones out, tossing them to the side, and reached for the gold metal. It was heavy, and she had to wrestle with it. Carefully, she pushed it into her pouch, which had to stretch uncomfortably due to the size and weight. If she couldn’t take all of her hoard, then she was determined to at least bring her favoritest part of it. None of the shiny stones could even come close to how pretty the gold metal thing was, and it was a good memory of when she was almost a mother.