Chapter 8 #2
The beast let out a huffing chuff and jerked back. “Smell like Lo denaii. Why you ask? You not know? Where you male? You mates, where? They in trouble? Need help?”
Eyeing me, he pulled back, until he was staring down at me from his towering height. With a grunt, he cocked his head. “Have mates, yes? Males that’s yours, yes? Where mates?” Leaning in, he growled softly, “Why they leave you, female? They bad males? You bad female? Naughty like the Joad-knee?”
“What?” I spluttered. Joad-knee? Am I supposed to know what that is?
“Where you group? Fam’ly?” he grumbled gruffly.
Say what now?
Scowling right back at him, I wrapped my arms around myself. The action was as much a defensive reaction as it was protective.
“You speak the Hood-man’s Eng-alled-rish, yes?
” he said slowly, as if the problem here laid with me.
Changing tact, he barked in a strangely high falsetto like maybe he was trying to sound less threatening and failing miserably, “The words that comes out of my moutheses, you un-ur-stands them, female, yes?”
Instead of answering him, I held out my hand. “You took something that’s mine, beast. I want it back.”
When he just stared at me, I pointed at the flowery pillowcase he was carting around that I could spy a couple supersized potato lumps bulging from.
“Why here, you Lo denaii? Mates Hood-man’s? Where you mama? You da?” he rumbled out curiously. “They live in Hood-man’s world too, jes? You lost? Where males? Back at village?”
The way he was eyeing me made me uneasy.
Shuffling a few steps back, I put some much needed space between us. The action had him moving several steps forward, putting him firmly back within close proximity. Too close.
“I think I hear my mother calling me,” I mumbled as I began shuffling backwards.
Did I love my potatoes? Without question. Who the hell doesn’t? Enough to risk being kidnapped or bludgeoned to death over them? Not particularly.
“Lie,” he got out between grunts. Everything in the male changed at my called out fib. Gone was the curious, open look, replaced with a fierce scowl.
Noting this, I did what any reasonable human being would— spinning around, I took off at a run, screaming at the top of my lungs for help.
Dumb move, I supposed, but I’m more reactive than think-it-through in a pinch.
The beastman quickly caught up to me as I ran like my life depended on it.
He didn’t grab at me. No. There was a soft thump and then the sound of a being running much faster than me easily traipsing through the heavy snowfall.
For a moment the sound of thundering feet stopped entirely, and that’s when I heard a soft snarl kind of behind me, a bit above my five foot six-ish height, right before it happened.
I caught a glimpse of him before he landed atop me in some panther-like pounce.
Instead of body slamming me down into the ground, he scooped me up, crushing me to his chest, something came over my mouth as his hand closed over my face, and then he rolled, taking the brunt of the fall.
My screaming stopped simply because the cloth covering my face was effectively suffocating me.
My arms flailed at first, out of shock more than anything. Black spots starting to dance in my vision quickly brought me around, my fingers sliding over fur, scrabbling for purchase. Catching flesh, my nails dug in and raked.
My legs joined in, kicking about in a last ditch effort to help free me. It was impossible to really thrash about, pinned to his chest the way I was. Soft grunts here and there told me my boots were making contact at least some of the time.
He was going to kill me over potatoes!
Opening my mouth to scream, I ended up with a mouth full of the fur from the furry blanket— the same one I’d pilfered from Cy— I’d been wearing it like a cloak, which just aided him all the more in his endeavor to silence me.
I was going to be murdered with the product of my own misdeeds. The irony.
Biting down, I caught flesh but it was through a doubled layer of furred blanket that still heavily smelled of Cy.
Regardless, I bit down as hard as I could. There was a small measure of satisfaction listening to the beast howl and growl at me to let go. Then his grip tightened, making it impossible to breathe.
Thought left me as I blacked out for a bit.
When I came to I was laying on the ground, Cy’s pelt beneath me, the sides tucked in around me tight.
Too tight. Wondering if this was how a sausage felt in its casing, I cracked an eyelid open to spy the beastman with his back to me.
Holding the pillowcase open, he appeared to be refilling it with all of the items I presume he stole from other homes, much as he had mine.
Peeping my potatoes, onions, celery, bread, mainly food items, I had to wonder if there was a food shortage in the land of white furballs or if he was prepping to feed future captives or some such weirdness.
Muttering to himself as he worked made it a bit easier to move about, if I was really quiet.
Arms still rolled into the blanket tight like a human taquito, I managed to silently roll to my stomach, then gain my feet.
I made it about ten feet away from him looking like a plump, fuzz covered cheese stick on the move before he even noted my absence.
“Ey! Ey! Where think you go, eh?” he called out.
It was humiliating, listening to the humor lacing his tone, mixing with his obvious annoyance.
It wasn’t like I wanted to deal with him either!
“Away from you, you furry asshole!” I shot back as I started running. It’s much harder running with your arms pinned to your sides than I thought it would be.
“Ey! You- You furdy anzed hole!”
“Jesus- Find someone else to harass, would you?! Leave me alone!” I screeched as he gave chase. “My god,” I huffed and puffed as he quickly gained on me, “you can have the fucking potatoes, okay! They’re yours! I don’t want ‘em anymore! Have at them!”
He caught me. Of course he did. Easily. So much so it was a bit embarrassing.
“What are you, an Olympic leaper where you’re from?” I grumbled as I was caught up, pinned beneath him, and then he lifted up to roll me and glare down at me.
Baring his teeth at me, he grumbled, getting right in my face. “Not Jeed-sus, not gawt. Not furred-kneed ad-sole. Lo denaii. Like you, female! Vurhg warrior!”
“One, I’m human.” That weird calm was washing over me again.
It helped me think past the panic. “Two, warriors are honorable, are they not? What’s honorable about attacking a lone female in the woods after you’ve stolen my food, hmm?
Kidnapping? Now, that’s a huge crime here, a big one.
I hear it’s punishable by death in some places. ”
With a chuff, the male climbed off of me, then bent and picked me up to stand me up beside him.
When I would have made a run for it, futile as that might be— I was desperate!
— the hand closing down around the back of my hoodie peeking made that impossible.
How my beanie wig was still on my head, I had no idea but made a note to buy more of this brand because, uh, hell yeah, Yeti ambush proof.
When he began to drag me along with him, literally leaving me to trip and drag feet behind him if I couldn’t keep up with him, marching us right over to his now refilled pillowcase bag, full of stolen goodies, I tried to dig my feet in.
“Hey! What’s the big idea?!” I caterwauled.
With a scowl aimed my way, the look he gave me dared me to get loud, see what happens.
I did, and ended up with a potato stuffed in my mouth, stuck as he forced me to bite into it or he was just going to keep shoving it into my screeching maw.
If ever there was a time to give thanks, it was my choice of golden potatoes over russet, I supposed.
The stuffed in my mouth flavor was more potato-ey and less, uh, earthy and dirt.
There were russets in that bag, though. I spied them as he hefted the bag over one shoulder, then me over the other, and proceeded to tote me like a bag of acquired goods to god knows where.
It was a bit hard to breathe, pinned like this. I suppose that’s how it happened. At least partly.
True panic is a funny thing.
When I got past the blood rushing to my head feeling as I hung over a rock hard shoulder like a sack of potatoes, bumping and jostling along as he went, not a care in the world for his captive, I started to think more clearly.
It was as he strode along, taking me deeper and deeper into the snowy wilderness, almost seeming happy with his catch, that I felt it, incrementally as I jostled and he picked up his pace, before one good flop about over his shoulder loosened the blanket enough I managed to pull my arm over my belly, then my chest, before wriggling my hand high enough I was able to touch my face.
The next big jostling saw one side of the blanket slipping free, leaving me free to pull both arms completely free.
The second I had both hands, I yanked the potato in my mouth free and shot up.
Beastman Vurhg lost his balance as I grabbed a handful of the fur atop his head in one hand, yanking his head back, and shoved the potato with my slobber and teeth marks all over it into his shocked, gaping maw.
The garbled shout he let out was music to my ears. Grabbing me up to throw me away from him in his sudden, shocked panic, was not on my bingo card for November.
A yelp escaped me as I flew so far the world whipped past me, I hit something hard, and slumped towards the ground.
Tangled up in my blanket, I gained my feet, fell, tried to stand up again, then immediately thumped to the ground as the world began to spin wildly.
With a groan, I dropped forward, landing on all fours. The coolness of the air hit me, so much so I began to shiver uncontrollably.
Warmth began to trickle down my head, mixing with the harsh chill. My hand lifted and I found I had finally lost my beanie. Wetness tipped my fingers.