Monday, May 5, 2014

The Fruit, The Fox, and the Flight

**I have decided to start posting a few of my short stories here, to get them off my hard drive. They will generally be about my Steampunk character, Viviette Crevan, but may be about other things. please feel free to let me know if you enjoy them in the comments below!**

“It wasn't as if anyone got hurt”, she muttered quietly to herself, cradling the stolen provisions in her arms. The night was blessedly moonless, allowing her lithe figure to creep unseen through the narrow alleys of the town she was currently managing to hide in. Her steps were soundless as she flitted across cobbled roads, over slated roves, and ultimately found her way back into the abandoned stone tower she had been calling her den for the last week or so.

She held a small bag of fruit to her nose, and inhaled the delicious scent of ripe strawberries, oranges, and peaches. Mouth watering, she bit her lip softly, feeling a fang press against the tender flesh. Resisting the temptation to tear into the bag, she opened it slowly, and counted every precious piece of food inside: 3 strawberries, 1 bruised orange, and a peach so small it was bound to be mostly pit.

A now familiar drumming sound caused her ears to begin to wildly swivel and twitch. She crouched slowly and silently, afraid to make any sudden movements. The drumming was echoed not too far below her makeshift hideout, and was much closer than the initial sound she heard.

Lovely, the village law had found yet another of her hiding places. Between dodging them, and trying to make sure she remained unseen and unheard by the residents, she had gotten nary a full night's sleep since she arrived. She was still unarmed, because as a bladeswoman by trade, she was useless with the few discarded firearms she had stumbled upon in her numerous shelters. All she had at her advantage right now where the talents she was born with; stealth and the uncanny knack she had for hiding.

She had to get out of here, and now. Otherwise, those blasted lawmen would find her and burn her out, like every other human she had ever met. Quickly, she tied the bag of fruit to her belt, and crept to the window. Hazel eyes scanned the surrounding rooftops, focusing on the torches lit all along them. Shifting her gaze, she watched the men below, and noted the firearms hanging at their belts. Baring her fangs, the Kitsune clenched her fists.

“Well Viviette, “she muttered to herself, “Looks like it’s guns below and fire above. Not a good night to be someone like you.”

Her tail twitched behind her in an agitated manner, and a soft growl escaped her lips. The drumming sound was growing louder, and she pinned her ears back against her head.

Someone was coming up the stairs

Viviette leaped out the window of the tower, and managed to roll onto the neighboring buildings roof. The tiles were slick, but her kind were well known for their balance, and she began to run at full speed across them. Shouts alerted her to the all too familiar chase that was happening in the streets below, though she could easily imagine what the men were seeing that would make them feel the need to drive her out; a human looking woman, in her mid-twenties, who happened to have fox ears and a matching tail.  She was an abomination. One of the few survivors of a race of humanoids that had inhabited the multiverse since time began, who were now being hunted to extinction.
“Damned humans!”, the Kitsune shouted, leaping from roof to roof, hoping to make it to the cool refuge of the forest beyond. She was starving, she was exhausted, she was frightened, and still the humans gave chase. The all too familiar sound of barking joined the chorus of shouts that followed her, and she swore again.

They had brought out the hounds.

Her feet slammed onto packed earth, and Viviette felt the shock of impact through her entire body, “That was a bit further down than I thought…”

There was no time for further rest though, and she half jogged, half limped to the thick copse of trees that surrounded the village. Inhaling deeply, the multitude of scents assaulted her sensitive nose, but she knew the particular smell she was looking for. Following her nose, she moved westward as quickly as she could, listening to the growing sound of men hunting behind her. When she thought her leg would give out completely, the river was suddenly upon her, with a current swift as wind. Without a second thought, she jumped in.

It was only much later, when she had been carried far downstream and had stowed away on a supply ship bound for some world she had never heard of, that she realized the pouch of fruit had been lost in the mayhem of the night.

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