Outside the great snores of Farleigh rent the night air. His horned head rested atop his muscular arms, ears twitching alert for any noise. Aeturnis lay awake on the narrow pallet bed, listening to the Sable-taur snoring outside and the gentle whistling of Madame Zufraia, curled up in the pallet opposite, head beneath her wings. Atop the carved table between the two pallets rested a tiny four-poster bed, half buried amongst tarot cards, runestones, crystal balls, playing cards, a mahjong set, some tattered paperback books and a long black feather. In this tiny bed lay the diminutive figure of Rose, hugging an even smaller teddy bear.
Aeturnis did not know why sleep eluded her, even though her surroundings were utterly bizarre. It was not as if her bed were uncomfortable - the pillows and blankets made it thrice as comfortable as her Orphanage quarters had ever been - and for goodness sake, she'd expected to be asleep on the road tonight! It was not even the fact that her presence here meant that Chaz had been forced to move his sleeping arrangements to the floor beneath the table, where the pile of cushions and blankets currently lay empty. Nor was it the scratching of the skrittlings outside - far and distant, not even the fear of the dreaded blagh gru… No, Aeturnis did now know why she suffered from insomnia.
It was the habit of Mysanthropi to take turns at the watch - even little Rose took her turn. She might be small, but the little Rodent was far from helpless. The dark shape huddled in the alcove above the door, Rose's riding kestrel, was testament to that fact. Beside the alcove a set of diminutive shelves held a miniature riding crop and a minute modified saddle amongst other Mouse-sized attire. Chaz, naturally, was taking the first watch. Only Farleigh, worn after pulling the cart, was excused from standing guard. Amongst them all, he needed his strength the most.
The Aardwolf allowed her eyes to stray around the room once more, still unbelieving of her eyes. There was not a single right angle anywhere in the carriage, and indeed, it seemed larger within then without. Everything was crazy angles and Farleigh could have comfortably fitted inside - if it were not for all the stuff. The place seemed overrun by stuff, placed with no form of securing or in any sort of order. Clothes covered every flat surface, including the floor. How every movement of the carriage did not result in a cascade of detritus, Aeturnis could not even hazard a guess. At first she had thought it was just the outcome of drawing a wagon over uneven ground, but she had seen Madame Zufraia cast off her veils without any thought or concern for where they landed. A great sea chest stood at the foot of the pallet beds. It appeared as though it had been dragged from the ocean deep - the carvings that had once adorned its surface were now worn almost smooth. Aeturnis wondered for a moment what was in it, then decided it was none of her business.
Still sleep evaded her.
With a great sigh (but not so great as to awaken the sleeping Avian), she crawled down the bed and stepped as carefully off the end as she could. It was all but impossible to pick one's way to the entrance without falling over something - or everything, especially in the dark, but Aeturnis managed it with little more then a stubbed toe. She pushed aside the heavy entrance curtains and stepped out into the night.
It was warm - warmer then she had imagined it would be without a fire. The stars were a brilliant tapestry above her and she paused. She peered into the gloom, seeing the dark shapes scurrying across the barren plains of the Deadlands. The sight of these creatures - some as large as wolves, scurrying along on six legs, sent a shiver down her spine. She watched as a group of smaller skrittlings circled a larger domacile (a species of the mutant she knew to be adapted to feed upon blackemarr and therefore no more offensive then common cattle, except to blackemarr gatherers). The domacile reared up so that its first pair of legs clawed at the air and then the skrittlings dragged it down, their darker forms covering its rusty brown one and the foul sound of crunching audible even through Farleigh's snoring. She shuddered, and glanced about, wondering where Chaz was - maybe he'd ducked off to answer a call of nature?
"Ae?" A soft voice called, "what ye doin' out here?"
She glanced about, perplexed, before realising that the voice came from above - from the roof of the wagon, no less. "Chaz?"
"Who else," he grinned, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight. "Come on up." He leaned over the front of the wagon, both hands dangling towards her.
She stared at them for a moment - surely he could not mean for her to climb up there too? She was an Aardwolf - a Hyenidae (well, that and part Canindae, but still) and thus not well equipped to climb anything. "I don't think so," she whispered.
"Oh, come on," he encouraged, "ye canna beat the view up here and ye'll freeze ye tail off down there. We wouldn't want that to happen would we?" He added, "'tis rather a pretty tail."
Much to her shame, Aeturnis found herself blushing. Luckily it was dark and Chaz would not notice. He leaned further still, so far that she feared he would tumble down and break his neck on the cold, hard ground. "I don't like heights," she whispered.
"Oh," he said, and dropped headfirst from the roof. Aeturnis unleashed a little shriek, but a moment later his hands struck the platform and he pushed backwards and into a tight somersault that deposited him on his feet. He bowed with a flourish. "We didna just do party tricks an' fortunes here," he grinned. "Come up here with me - I promise ye, that I wouldna let any harm come to ye."
Aeturnis was still a little doubtful - but wasn't she the one who had been willing to set out on the Road to Eriwyn all by herself? Why should she let a little height scare her? "Okay," she muttered.
Chaz needed no further persuasion - he jumped up on the platform beside her, placing one hand upon her posterior (which sent both a shiver of fear and excitement through her - although she felt immediately shameful of the excitement). The contact was only brief however, for he heaved her upwards and she found herself placing first one foot on his shoulder and then her knee on the roof, falling forward to hold herself steady. It was then she realised she was shaking. A moment later Chaz bounded up beside her, scrambling up the wood and hide wall as though it were nothing more difficult then a flight of stairs.
"Are ye cold?" He draped his cape about her shoulders. "It can be a little bit breezy up here." One hand extended and he helped her to a sitting position, and then rested one hand slightly behind her. If she hadn't known herself better, she would have assumed he wanted to put his arm around her shoulders, but did not dare.
But that was silly? Why would he want to do that?
The wind - and it was more wind then breeze, tugged at his tousled hair, revealing glimpses of his vibrant blue eyes. "So what do ye think?"
Aeturnis did not know what had come over her - she was both frightened of physical contact and wanting it, almost needing it. Barely anyone had touched her since her mother's funeral (and those only out of the necessity of comforting the poor ill-begotten Huvryss), certainly not in a friendly manner, at any rate. Well, she admitted, Rose and Madame Zufraia had - but that was more out of comfort and in a motherly way. Not that anyone could ever replace her mother. But still - she had to admit, in this carriage of oddballs, she felt oddly … comfortable.
Aeturnis surveyed the scenery. It was beautiful, this ebony land - even with the strange noises and the chitterings of mutant insects. She smiled at Chaz. "It's very peaceful," she said.
Chaz beamed at her. "I like it up 'ere, gives me a chance ter think. I like the feel o' the wind tugging at my hair. Do yer wanna see something special?"
Her heart bolted for a second. Last time someone had said that phrase to her it had been an older boy at the Orphanage. He was a bit dim-witted, see had had to admit, but he had - without waiting for an answer, flashed her. Therefore, she was a little reluctant to outright accept the offer. Chaz, like the boy, did not await an answer. A lantern sat on the rooftop, covered in a cloth that muted the light. Now he drew the cloth off, unleashing the radiance. Aeturnis blinked as her eyes, adapted to the low light levels, shrunk to pinpoints. Spots danced momentarily in her vision. Puzzled, she frowned at Chaz, but he rose one finger to his lips, silencing her.
A moment later they came - tiny, flitting bright lights piercing the darkness. Aeturnis watched in awe as they gathered around the light.
"What are they?"
"Fyreflits," Chaz replied, "cute, ain't they? Kinda like little magick lights. The light attracts 'em - like moths to a flame."
Aeturnis reached out one hand to them. One of the tiny lights separated itself from the others and danced lightly across her fingers. It tingled, not unlike a very gentle electric shock, sending a shiver down the Aardwolf's spine. She looked closer at the creature - hard because the light was so radiant, so bright.
It was not an insect - not even a moth, but in fact a tiny bird, no longer then the middle joint of her middle finger. It was the feathers that were glowing. It hovered over her hand for a moment, tiny wings flittering so fast she could barely see them. Then, apparently having determined that she was not edible, it darted away to join its fellows.
"They're beautiful," she gasped. "Thank you for sharing them with me, Chaz."
Chaz beamed at her, a full-on radiant smile that likely matched her own. "Yer're welcome," he said. "'Tis my pleasure."