Blink

When Quel awoke everything in the world was exactly the same as when he had fallen asleep, save for three things.

First and foremost, he hurt everywhere. His spine was a nest of needles, and his legs were agony from the core of his bones to his skin.

Second, the sun was high in the sky. It must, he measured, be nearly noon. Before noon. After? Maybe after. Meh, it doesn't really matter.

Finally, and perhaps most pressingly, was the animal skull perched no more than a foot from his face, attached to a towering black shape with stick-like antlers protruding from behind the skull.

No good, no good.

Quel tried not to move. Maybe it doesn't know I'm still alive. Maybe it only eats living things. Yes.

I am not that lucky, thought Quel.

The creature's hide was jet black, a slick skin covered in light-grey sigils and symbols. It walked on its hind limbs, dragging a thin tail and lumbering with heavy, long forelimbs. Each set of appendages was a long, thin, tapering... flipper? Almost? Quel had never seen anything with a body like this, but... that was not unusual for Quel. He saw a lot of things for the first time.

The thing still had not moved. Quel's eyes settled on the animal skull where the thing's face would be. The skull... a dog's skull, he thought, seemed to be bound on to the creature. It was as though the skull belonged to the creature, it was the right size and in the right spot, but all the flesh was... gone. And the skull was strapped on with ropes made out of the thing's flesh.

And the antlers... were definitely sticks. Not antlers. Sticks. Strapped on. Hmm.

"Are you rested, thing?" The creature asked. Quel jumped, startled by the voice. It was low, a rumbling but kind tone. It was very nearly human. But not quite.

Well, the jig is up anyway. Quel nodded.

"That is good, thing." The creature nodded slowly, and turned its head. At that moment, Quel noticed there were more of them. A half dozen, spread out across the plain. "The thing is rested, brother." it called out to another.

"That is good, brother." Came the reply, with the same low, rumbling humanish voice. That creature turned, and repeated the message to another, and so on until they were all nodding.

The creature turned its head back to look at Quel. There were no eyes in its socket, but you could feel its gaze.

"Tell me, thing..." Quel tensed in his little cobbled together tower. The pain was gone from his body, replaced by fear. "Where did you get your antlers?" It indicated with a fore-flipper his tower.

Quel looked down at his lashed-together tower, a post and two tusks he'd found yesterday. He looked up at the creature, and jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction he'd come from.

"Yes, good." It nodded slowly. "And are there more antlers, thing?"

He shook his head. It turned to the other creatures.

"Sadness. There are no more antlers, brother." It boomed.

"Sadness, brother." Came the reply, and the chain began again until all the creatures were nodding.

It turned its head back to face Quel, no more than a forearm's length away.

And paused.

Quel breathed slowly.

The creature didn't appear to breathe at all.

Quel blinked.

The creatures remained still as statues.

Quel scratched his nose.

"Thing." The voice echoed out, startling Quel again. "Can we have... your antlers?"

Quel thought about it for a moment.  This was his only means of sleeping here on the plains. Without it he would either die of exhuastion, or worse.  He looked over the shoulder of the creature. He was still many days from the end of the plains. However, they didn't seem to be affected by the plains.

He looked at their legs. For some reason, they were safe. He shrugged, and looked into the eye sockets of the creature.

"Trade, for a lift out of the plains?"

The creature stared at him for a moment, and then craned its neck to its brother again.

"Thing wants to trade for travel out of the plains, yes brother?"

"Very nice antlers, brother. Yes." The first replied, and turned to repeat the question to the next creature. Again, they slowly all wound up nodding at the first creature.

"Yes thing. We trade." And Quel could almost feel the skull-face smiling.

It picked him up with its flipper-hands, and placed him on its back. He reached out, and grabbed its antlers for stability. He looked down, and saw the thing carefully collect his temporary structure, cradling it gently in its arms. Almost reverently.

"Prepared, thing?" It asked

"Yeh." Quel spoke, and as soon as the word was out of his mouth the entire pack began to run.

They were so fast, Quel almost went flying off the back of his ride. Clutching to the antlers, he swiveled his head to see all of the creatures. Some were running on their hind limbs, some had descended to a four-limbed stride. But all of them were travelling with tremendous speed.

And then some of them dissapeared.

And then they re-appeared, the distance of a field ahead. Startled, Quel bent down to ask his ride what had happened when he suddenly felt himself go hollow and pop back to normal. The place that he was was far behind, and still he was moving.  He looked back at where he was, and shook his head.

This was how you travel, Quel thought.

Definitely Up

Qeul had traveled six days and five nights over the plains.  He had stopped to rest only twice, and had nearly died on both occasions.  The plains were not safe. No height. Can't stay off the ground, so you have to keep moving.

He was carrying two tusks, each nearly as long as he was tall, behind him.  There had been the skull of some kind of elephant creature a few kilometers back, and if Quel could just find a stick, or some kind of post he could construct a tower. Three legs, very sturdy.  Sleep on that.  Up. Off the ground.

He looked at his blistered, bleeding feet.

Yes, definitely up.

He scanned the horizon.  Quel had never seen so much nothing in his life, and would be most glad never to see it again.  For the third time, he questioned if he had gone mad. That's what happens to people without sleep. They go mad. Everyone knows that.

His feet started to tingle, and he realized he had stopped moving. No good, no good. He trudged forward, dragging what he hoped was his salvation behind him.

He thought of home while he walked. Of Vanya, and her blessed smile. Of the smell of roasted vegetables and the taste of cooked meat.  He smiled, and his face hurt. He rubbed his cheeks with a hand. How long has it been since I did that?

He blinked, and the world tumbled for a moment. In an instant he was on his feet again, a fighter's reflexes popping him into a defensive crouch in the instant of threat. But there was no threat. He had simply... fallen.

Fallen asleep.

Only for an instant, but the realization struck him hard. He was falling asleep while he walked. And death comes to those who sleep on the plains.

No, I will not die here.

He grabbed his tusks, and walked on.

And walked.

And walked.

Could I make a stand with the two tusks?  No... no it would fall. It needs the third support, or it will fall and I will be on the ground.  Bad.

And walked.

And walked.

And as the sun began to set on the sixth day of Quel's quest through the plains, he fell to his knees in despair. He watched the sun fade down below the horizon, and the moon peek out of the darkness while his knees began to burn beneath him. And soon, he fell forward, his body slumping face first into the soft, deadly ground.

Only it wasn't soft. Not at his face. In fact, it was painfully hard. The pain jolted him awake, just enough to realize his fortune. He crawled up onto his feet, blood seeping out of a dozen wounds on his knees, and ran his hands over the ground. There was something... something metal.  Metal is good.

It was long, and thin. Oh, sweet praise yes it's perfect!  He got his hands around it, and pulled. It was caught in the roots of the grasses, but he pulled and pulled and it tore free.

Perfect.

A metal pole, half-hand wide and more than a man tall. There was some kind of flat shape on one end, with eight sides. Might make a decent shovel, if he bent it right.  But that's tomorrow's problem.

He reached in to his pack, and pulled out some rope.  In a few moments, he had constructed a three-legged structure with the pole and tusks.  At last.

It looked like a giant caltrop, a collection of sharp points bound in the centre. He gave it a test shake, and it appeared to be sturdy enough. He climbed up, and rested his back against one of the protruding tusks, cradling himself in the middle. At last.

I will not die here, he thought. Instead, I will sleep.

And so he smiled, and fell asleep.

The Face That Travels In Furs

"You have come to The Face That Travels In Furs for reasons, yes?" The mouth on the mask made no motion, not even the mask itself.  If the thing spoke from what was once the human head, it hid it well.

"Yes. You see reasons in your mind-space, and think them worthy. But The Face That Travels In Furs knows reasons. Knows your reasons, and knows their worth. They are not so much, these reasons." The thing ambled around Quel on its huge forelimbs. The things fur-strapped arms were longer than Quel was tall, and ended in three grey fingers as long as an arm. It's rear legs were skinny, like those of a deer, covered in the same grey skin.

"So human man, what have you to trade with the Face That Travels In Furs for your gift, hmm?  Your reasons are not enough for Him, and he hungers."

The human body that hung under the mask from the top of the creature shuddered hungrily. If Quel was not careful, he knew, he may become the new mask of The Face.

Quel swallowed hard, and set his jaw.  He reached into the pack hanging off his back, and wordlessly held forward his offering.

The Face That Travels In Furs cocked its head, and stepped closer, like a predator investigating its prey. Quel tried not to shiver. The thing moved... wrong.  Nothing about it made sense. It hurt his head to watch.  But he hoped.

"Yesssssss... Very interesting. A trade it is then." And the huge creature gently pulled the rotting, softcover book from Quel's hand, secreting it inside one of its furs. "Enjoy your new years, younglet."

Quel nodded, and began to back away.  The Face That Travels In Furs turned to walk away, but craned its head back, pulling the swaying body over its gargantuan shoulder as it did.

"Do not return, Younglet.  Your next trade have I seen. Not enough, not enough.  Not enough."

Quel went white, and ran as the thing began to weep for him.

Dhenzel Obeng