I joined the elves for breakfast and watch their ears ‘talk’ to each other as they hurry down their breakfast, occasionally trying to imitate the simpler movements with my pointer fingers that I aim at the sides of my temples. Afterward Walleye scoops me up with his arms before transferring me onto his back in one smooth movement. Once the both of us are off the sandwhale, he clears his throat and starts to talk,
“Your fawnu is rather decent, even if you’re just mimicking our words. Reminds me of my old dwarf contacts before they were eaten by iron ants. Ah,” He sighs a gusty breath, “memories.”
My grip on the elf’s shoulders tighten as we approach what is most likely his spider-ride. My grip must not be uncomfortable as Walleye just continues musing to himself “Too bad memories don’t fill stomachs like they do heads. Anyways this is the sweetheart known as Adder; keep your hands away from his mouth.”
This spider is a size unto itself, a massive tan beast that turns to face us. It looms over Walleye as it displays its fangs, about as long as…wow those are big. I’m not going to be in the same room as those fangs; I’m outside in the desert but the sentiment stays relevant. Walleye calmly works my hands off from his shoulders as he points and clicks, hums, and hisses at the monstrous arachnid. The spider- Adder, lowered its head by lifting its torso and lowering its front limbs, making some exaggerated bow. What a distinguished creature.
Still could eat me in one gulp though, no matter how fancy it-he acts. I doubt a spider would care whether or not I called it by the correct title but it just feels unnecessarily mean. I’d feel bad if I was called by the wrong name or whatever, and this spider seems smart for a spider. Not like it costs me anything. I blink and turn away from the spider and towards the elf that’s currently adjusting his oddly-shaped saddle and adding a small seat of leather to the front of it.
“Good thing you’re relatively small still, would give poor Adder a headache if you were just a bit older.” Walleye tugs at a blanket tucked under the main saddle and nods.
“Let’s try a trial run, see if you try to vomit and adjust the teaching plan before we start back on the route,” then in a lower voice, “Good thing Passenger suggested us leaving early.”
I was set into the odd little saddle and shifted as Walleye climbed in behind me.
“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable at any time and we shall stop. This excursion is to double check the reason for last night’s attack, and to scout any further sandworms near our location.”
“There’s a reason for the worms last night?” Weird, normally bad things just happen for no reason.
“There’s usually a reason for any animal attack, it’s people and demons that act in absurd ways. Well, maybe not for the demons- they might have some reason beyond bloodlust but it’s not been studied since the beginning of what your empire dubbed the ‘rift’ after what I’m betting is an experiment gone-.” Walleye abruptly stopped his words.
“I’ve said too much, my apologies.”
I shrug, eyes tracking the synchronicity of the front legs, one in front- one behind. Hypnotic in the repetition; do these beasts ever trip over their own feet? It’s gotta hurt more than if they just tripped over two feet, like six more hurt. Behind me, Walleye hums deep in his throat,
“In honesty, there’s many things I could teach you, but few that would actually end up useful to you; you can’t use a knife to drink as well if you used a cup. I’m going to use very general statements and you can ask me further questions if something seems interesting, alright? Though you’d have to ask my mate for any questions about maps and guidance, I’m not adept at map-reading, I’m ashamed to say.”
“Why aren’t you a-dept at maps?”
“I was married into a merchant family, you hardly needed to look at maps when you’re a spider shepherd- just follow the path set by your ancestors over the centuries. Of course, that means that if something were to happen and you were…let’s just say that Passenger’s vite was a great elf, and I owe them my life.”
“Them? I thought vite was a word for one elf parent, not both.” In response to my confused question I instead get nudged forward with the force of Walleye’s sudden and overpowering laughter.
“Oh! Oh-” He breaks off into giggles again and again before just wordlessly shaking with laughter behind me, sliding just a bit to the side before quickly correcting himself and a long stretch of land passes by before he collects himself enough to talk,
“Oh- heh- Humans always crack me up, phew…” A gusty breath, followed by a quiet cough as a breeze kicks up a little grit, “Elves don’t really do that whole,” I assume he’s gesturing something elaborate by the way both our saddles shift, “thing that the humans and orcs do, there’s no difference between Passenger and I, we’re both Vite. We just go along with whatever silly nonsense humans use because normally it’s funny and it doesn’t matter.”
Adder begins to slow as we approach what looks like either a large mass of worms or just one really big one; it undulates in one heap. I consciously keep myself from clenching my hands around the saddle to prevent tearing it, but not even Urthis could keep me from leaning backwards into Walleye.
He slides off the bulbous head of the spider and walks towards the worm,
“This is reasonably safe Sybil!” He calls out as he draws his sword- it has some type of curved blade that I usually see in knives, so it might just be a large knife- and easily separates one end of the worm from the rest of the worm. Was that the head? Based on how the body slumps and relaxes onto the ground I’d say yes but who can tell. I imagine if my butt was randomly sliced off, I think I’d need a bit of time to process that before getting mad. Oh wait, there’s blood, and a lot of it.
It’s dead then, I suppose. Obviously I’m not a worm expert here. Walleye then points at the presumed corpse,
“That’s the king worm, useless but a good hatchery I imagine. Aha, full house. Sybil, grab the bag tucked behind you and help me gather these.”
Hatchery is a new and interesting word, wonder what it means. I hop off the giant spider and approach the giant worm with a drawstring tucked into my arms. It takes some maneuvering around the body but eventually I climb over enough of the corpse to be side by side with Walleye.
“Alright, now go and collect those little spheres.”
Hm. Sure, why not collect strange apple-sized orbs from the center of a monster worm. This day’s not even halfway done yet, this might as well happen. They’re smooth yet covered in these ultra fine hairs that make my hands itchy, so I’m all but tossing them into the bag before Walleye hurriedly takes over and I get the awe-inspiring task of ‘hold the bag still’. Let’s make conversation.
“How’d you get from shepherding spiders to here?” I ask, steadying my stance as the bag gets heavier with each whatever is placed in.
“My Vite was cursed by a passing mage after a sale went sour and most of my family died off from a famine, then half the cluster was washed away by a flash flood alongside my Vite, which probably completed the curse because I and the remainder were soon rescued from bandits by a passing caravan, where my mate’s genitrix found me- their vite.”
Spheres collected, Walleye patted around his robe before pulling out a small whistle that caused his ears to draw tight against his head and stared at it with a face like he bit into a very sour berry.
“What’s with the face?”
He released a slow breath and explains, “I hate using this whistle.”
“Do you have to use the whistle?” What could force someone to use a whistle they hate? Maybe another curse?
Who wastes their time with such a dumb curse?
Walleye’s ears perked up and he turned to look at me before wordlessly handing the whistle,
“Wait a bit then blow into the whistle three times in short bursts,” He instructs, then grins. I blink at his sharp, pointed teeth but focus as he starts talking again in a silly tone, “I can’t believe I forgot I brought along a human for a moment there! Now give me a bit of time so I can…aha, blow when my tail thrashes, alright?”
I watch as he fishes out his long tail with a distinct tuft at the end and rushes off to crouch next to Adder and lashes his tail. This guy is a lot weirder than I expected, but he’s the boss; I shrug and then blow a short burst into the whistle and wince as the shrill shriek sounds in my ear, dutifully repeating twice more before staring disgustedly at the noisemaker.
Walleye seems only a bit better than me in terms of a burgeoning headache but he’s still stroking his ears with a frown.
“Let’s head back to camp, I’ve got some willow bark calling my name.”
i think just adding slow burn tag is fine, i think the elfs are being very cute . Rooting for them. cute Bilbies
I'm not entirely sure if Walleye is laughing at the concept of gender or existing as a singular parental unit or both, but honestly I'm down with it either way. I very much hope the weird cat elves continue to hang around in the story in some form or other because god I love them.
As for the tag, perhaps just add the slowburn tag or something similar and then make it even more clear in the description that any proper relationships or mc related gay stuff will be a long time coming.
Unless it's going to very minor when things do eventually get sapphic and Sybil isn't a tiny child and/or demon inadvertantly pretending to be one I don't see the problem.
i thought it was more like Australian Bilbies