Creatures Caves

Officer-1BDI wrote:
I would throw in some reference to them being norns at some point (not a huge reference), but if you're going to describe the son in the next chapter I don't think you need to expand on it in the prologue (unless he has some vital, plot-dictating, distinguishing mark, like Harry Potter's scar).

He doesn't have a plot distinguishing mark; more like a name. But I do describe him in the next chapter.

I finally finished it; it took me absolutely ages to write it up. And for those who don't know, this is a pockle.

Here it is:

The Norn

It was a quiet afternoon in the jungles of Akatora Island. The wildcats have gone to rest on the sun-warmed stones, and the mice have fallen asleep in their little burrows. Even the sand on the waterside seemed to be relaxed, soothed by the gentle lapping of the waves of the sea.

However, on this particular sunny day, a pockle was dying. The small, doglike critter’s scales were dripping with blood, staining the soft ground with dark shades of red. It had been fatally bitten in the leg by a bloodthirsty carnivore, and was weak from trying to limp to the river for a drink of water. It panted, sadly, as its leg stung sharply one time too many. With a wail of despair, the pockle collapsed to the ground. He felt that it was all over for him.

For about an hour it laid there, half-conscious, in the comforting warmth of the sunbeams weaving through the canopy. The pockle was slowly but surely dying. It started to count… to lose his train of thought… its heartbeat began to slow down…

Suddenly, a faint rustle was heard in a bush. The pockle raised its head alertly. If it was a predator, he would surely be killed. He didn’t have the energy or the strength to run anymore. Frightened, the critter placed his scaly forepaws over his eyes. He was fairly camouflaged, but in the open clearing he laid in, he was easily visible.

Unbeknownst to the pockle, a Norn came out of the bushes. The creature was standing high on two legs, it’s padded feet making impressions in the ground as it walked towards the pockle. This Norn was not an Akatora Norn; though having a russet red fur coat, he did not have the orange ochre highlights, raven hair, or elongated muzzles of Akatoras. Rather, he had white highlights and hair, and a short muzzle.

The Norn perked his cuplike ears to listen in on the critter’s heartbeat. It was still alive, but just barely. With his large paws, he lifted up the small pockle and began to carry him away.

Slowly, silently, the Norn carried the miserable creature through the jungle. Listening in to the sounds of the rainforest, he started to hear the faint roar of a distant waterfall. He walked towards the deafening cry of the water as it slammed into the river, to be carried away to the sea. Approaching the river, the Norn searched the water.

At last, he found it. The stepping stones he used to get to the other side. Hopping warily from one jutting rock to another, he just managed to cross the river without slipping on the wet stones and being swept away by its swirling current, and to the rapids downstream. The Norn then worked its way farther into the rainforest.

He stopped in front of a great tree; one of the largest on the entire island. It was huge and magnificent, its leafy branches touching the sky itself. Its trunk was at least five feet in diameter and boasted many marks of wear and tear over the years. With a satisfied grunt, the Norn scaled the tree and hoisted himself and the pockle into a large hole near the top.

The inside of the tree resembled that of an extremely simple hut. A leafy curtain, crudely weaved by the Norn, was used to cover the entrance to his home. Leaning against the far wall was a spear, skillfully made out of bamboo and sharpened rock, and an axe with a heavy blade. A beaten-looking box to the right of the weapons was full of all kinds of fruits and herbs.

Gently, the Norn lay the wounded animal down and examined it. With a nod, he grabbed a fruit from the box, tore it open, and poured some of the juices on the pockle’s leg. He then tied it carefully with a leaf, backed away slowly, and grabbed a nut. He crushed the nut easily, and placed its remains in front of the pockle.

The pockle didn’t move for another few seconds… it was mostly unconscious, and it didn’t resist the Norn picking it up. But then it sniffed the nuts, munched it hungrily, and glanced around the room nervously. When it saw the Norn, it whimpered an animalistic yelp and tried to back away.

“Steady,” the Norn murmured. He reached out a hand to the creature and stroked its back comfortingly. “I shall not harm you.” The pockle purred silently, and lay down, looking at the Norn with large, sad eyes.

For a long while, the Norn treated the injured animal. He cleaned the critter’s paws, crusty with dried blood. All the while, though, the pockle wasn’t scared. This Norn wasn’t going to harm him.

At last, at sunset, it seemed that the pockle was fully healed. His leg wound, though still sore, was not open and bleeding anymore. The pockle was content with a fill of nuts, and he was truly stunned that he was still alive after all.

The Norn picked up the pockle. The animal, frightened, nuzzled into the Norn’s chest as he was carried down into the clearing by the massive tree. The tall being placed the pockle on the ground and whispered, “Little friend. Go home.”

The pockle gazed sadly at the Norn one last time, but then glanced at the wild. The little critter instantly began to frolic around, as all pockles do, and he pranced into the rainforest, off to fight another night, and leap into the morning after.

As the pockle waddled away, the Norn watched with his dark green eyes. His russet fur glowed faintly in the moonlight, heralding the approaching night. Though he healed the pockle, in truth, this Norn was in need of healing. His heart was torn, for he had no family, and none of the jungle animals he helped stayed by his side for long.

His white hair blew faintly in the chill breeze, and a silver tear dripped down his scarlet cheek. “Bye….” He whispered onto the wind, even though he knew, in his heart of hearts, that the pockle couldn’t hear him. “Bye.”

To be continued...

I don't know what I feel about this chapter, but it tugged my heartstrings when I wrote it. x_x