Thing: Part Two

     The sky was charcoal grey and overcast and the rain was frigid, chilling her to the bone. She wasn't used to cold weather. Normally on a day like this, she would stay inside with a mug of borovan, hiding under her duvet.

     But not today. She couldn't stand seeing that stupid petpet again. Besides, maybe a walk would clear her head.

     She sloshed through every puddle she found, focusing on the muddy water as it soaked through her socks and trying to forget about the Zomutt. Puddles were the only thing she liked about wet weather. For some reason, one she herself couldn't even comprehend, she just loved the feeling of the cold water soaking into her fur. It was just... nice.

     She had reached the park. She didn't even remember going through the gates. It was probably just because she had been here so many times she took all the regular sights -- the rusty golden gates decorated with delicate flowers made from blown glass, the beds of Yolkalias at the entrance -- for granted.

     The huge trees that lined either side of the scenic, cobblestone path towered over her, their strong, emerald leaves taking the brunt of the bad weather. She let her jacket slip off her shoulders and carried it under her arm as she walked, savouring the feeling of the Autumn wind as it ruffled her long, scarlet hair.

     She could hear laughing, carefree and childish. Her ears rotated to pick up the location of the sound, and she found it travelling through the shield of trees to her, coming from the stretch of grass behind them. She stopped, and peered through a gap in two of the thick, powerful trunks.

     Two children -- a brown Wocky and blue Lupe, both far too small to be any older than perhaps five or six years old. Their cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and they were up to their elbows in grass stains and mud. One, the Lupe it seemed, was gripping what looked like a chew toy in his paw, and he twirled on the spot as he waved it through the air in a graceful arc. A tiny Warf sprang from the Wocky's arms and ran to the child, dancing around his feet and snapping at it, yapping and skittering unsteadily on ungainly paws. The two little pets laughed at their petpet's antics, their laugh loud and joyful, as if they didn't have a care in the world.

     The sound reached Xana's ears, and with it came a flood of memories. This was where she would come to play with L, during all those years when she hadn't had a single worry nagging at her, when she had had hours every day to throw sticks and frisbees into the trees for L to chase and bring back to her. And he always would, the loyal little thing -- even if he had to swim to the bottom of a lake to retrieve it from the riverbed, or wriggle under a fence into a field of bad-tempered Babaas. He would always come back, his prize in his jaws, wagging his tail triumphantly. She remembered how he would pounce on her shoes and pull out her laces, and she would trip on them later despite Sango's constant nagging to tie them. She remembered how he would creep up on the Beekadoodles as they picked up breadcrumbs from the grass, and lunge at them when he thought they weren't looking, barking wildly and snapping at empty air as they took to the skies, outsmarting him every time. She remembered how he would never want to go home, and every time she sneaked towards him with his leash and collar in her hands he would break into a run again, looking back over his shoulder as he ran, playing games with her.

     The two children disappeared from sight as her vision began to splinter and break apart all over again. She reached up to her face and found her cheeks were wet. Her natural reaction was to frantically look up and down the path, making sure no one could see her lose control of her emotions. When she found she was safe from prying eyes, she fell forward, light-headed, turning just in time to hit a wooden bench. She fell back, leaning against the wet wood and closing her eyes as tears spilled out from under her closed lids and cascaded down her cheeks.

     That was when she felt a hand on hers. She opened her eyes but the world around her was blurred and watery, and her head was pounding. She couldn't think straight. She moved her hand away and sat it on her lap, allowing her heavy eyelids to fall back over her tired eyes. The lack of sleep from the past three weeks was catching up on her. All she wanted to do was fall back against the smooth wood of the park bench and fall asleep.

     But the mysterious figure just didn't want to leave her alone.

     "Xana?" came a voice, cutting through the throbbing pain behind her eyelids that was threatening to overcome her. It was a quiet, sweet voice, tinged with uncertainty and shyness. "Uh, are you okay?"

     She opened her eyes reluctantly and turned her head to face the voice. She had had a strong suspicion of who it had been the moment she had heard the voice call her name, and now her suspicions were confirmed as she saw her adoptive sister before her. A thin, pretty little striped Zafara with long, pink hair, a shade identical to the rose-coloured stripes running across her back, white at the roots and slowly darkening. Her wide, almond-shaped eyes were fixed on her sister worriedly and she fingered the tassels on her pink floral scarf nervously, something she always did when she felt uneasy about something.

     Xana suddenly felt guilty of worrying her sensitive sister. "I'm fine, Das," she said, calling her by her nickname to make her feel a little better. "Just fine. Don't worry about me,"

     "I know you're upset. Is it about L? You know, Hayley came round this afternoon. I don't know if Sango's told you, but she--"

     "I know," Xana snapped. Her brow furrowed in frustration and she clenched her fists, trying to control her anger in front of Dasawna. Das gripped the bench in one hand, nervously tugging on the tassels of her scarf one-by-one with the other. Finally, she gulped, plucking up the courage to speak again.

     "Xana, you're going to hate me for saying this, but please just listen to me. I know you're angry and upset, but, by acting this way, you're upsetting Sango and, even more, you're upsetting Hayley. They both just want you to be happy and you're throwing their efforts back at them like their feelings mean nothing to you. That little puppy is at home right now, probably confused because he doesn't know what he's done to anger you. He's probably waiting for you to come back home. Sango will be worried sick, and you know Hayley will be too; she's like a second owner to you. By acting like this, you're upsetting yourself, and all the others around you. If you just gave the little Zomutt a chance... maybe he could fill the void that L left behind."

     There was a long, excruciating silence, and then Das exhaled slowly, relaxing after the weight of her speech was lifted from her. She loosened her grip on the park bench and her knuckles, previously flushed white from the effort of gripping the wood, tense with nerves, returned to their normal colour; off-white, and tinged with powdery blue. She looked at her sister expectantly, awaiting a reply, but Xana's face was blank. Her eyes were glazed, as if she was seeing something that wasn't there. When she finally snapped out of her reverie, the suddenness of it made Das jump.

     In a split second, Xana was on her feet.

     "How many times do I have to tell everyone this? I don't want a new petpet. Persuade me all you want, it won't work. Tomorrow, I'm taking that thing back to Hayley. She can shove it in her Safety Deposit Box for all I care. There are no rules saying I need a petpet. I don't need everyone hanging around trying to change my opinions, so just leave me alone." Her voice broke on the last word, and she snatched her jacket from the bench and left before Das could see her cry again. Once had been embarrassing enough.

     She didn't look back as she made her way home.

     #

     Sango was surprised by how quickly her own spirits had lifted once she had room to think. The pup had busied himself exploring the neohome, sniffing anything and everything he could find and she had killed time watching him as he played. He had polished off a bowl of Blumaroo steak she had cooked for him and finished half a bottle of warmed milk, then stolen her cheese and asparagus sandwich when she had left it on the coffee table to answer a neomail. She was beginning to think his stomach was a bottomless pit.

     Now he was curled up next to her, snoring noisily and twitching in his sleep. Each time she turned the page of her book his ears would twitch and rotate around to the location of the sound, but he wouldn't wake up.

     SLAM

     The door flew open in the hallway, squealing in protest on its rusty hinges. It slammed against the wall with such force she heard the dull thud of a photo frame -- she wasn't sure which one, but thankfully she didn't hear the glass break -- hitting the carpet.

     What came next was silence. She turned around to look over the back of the classy sofa, and Xana was bending down in the hallway, picking up the photo frame that had fallen and running her fingers across the glass, checking for scratches. When she was sure it wasn't damaged, she hung it back up, carefully but crookedly all the same, and walked into the living room. Her gait was so graceful, Sango could barely hear the petite Xweetok's footfalls as she brushed past her and perched on the edge of a chair across from her.

     "Sango, I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I didn't mean to upset you. I appreciate Hayley for thinking of me, but tomorrow I'm taking it back to her. I don't want it in the house."

     Sango opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a loud, attention-seeking whine. She looked down at the Zomutt pup. He was sitting back on his haunches, wide awake, his brow knotted in worry as he butted her arm with his head. She fondled his ears gently to comfort him, but it didn't work. He knew something was wrong. He jumped off the couch clumsily, landing awkwardly and stumbling a little before toddling across to Xana's chair. He nudged her legs with the side of his head, grumbling to himself in his own private language.

     Sango braced herself. Just when her headache was going away...

     But all she could hear was the gentle whisper of wind as her beloved pet breezed past her, followed by the clumsy, uneven thuds of the Zomutt's paws as he tried to keep up.

     Silence returned.

     Outside, the clouds began to part, and the blue skies made their long-awaited appearance.

To be continued...