Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Whitten

I opened my eyes to find Lorna hovering over me. As soon as our eyes met, her nostrils flared, and she dropped her forehead into her hands. "Oh thank God. I thought you were going to sleep forever."

I was no longer on a warm cloud, but the tight pain wasn't throbbing between my eyes either. "I would always wake for you."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't try to be cute. I'm still mad. At everyone. I told these Loppies that they might be cute and all, but they can't just give you drugs without consent. I'm not sure they understood what I meant."

I smiled, liking the way my body felt all loose and free. "Loppies heal."

She snorted, and then her eyes crinkled. I expected her laughter to keep going, but instead her face scrunched up, and she burst into tears. I immediately reached for her, and she crumpled into my arms with sniffles and blubbers. "I was so scared. Those Inklas were like something out of a horror movie, and then you were in so much pain, and then you wouldn't wake up."

"I'm awake now," I soothed her.

"I know b-b-but—" Her breath hitched. "I think I just need an emotional release or something. I tell my preschoolers that we often cry once we feel safe."

"So you feel safe now?"

She pulled away slightly and nodded. I swiped at her wet cheeks with my paws and held her face to get a good look at her. Before, she'd been streaked with that awful paint, but now she was clean. Her hair was braided in two plaits that hung on both shoulders, and she wore some mismatched patchwork clothes. "The Loppies are like a godsend. Or a Fatas-send. They are so kind even if they stare a lot."

I snorted. "They do stare, but then my brothers and I get stares everywhere we go on this planet."

She sniffed. "Why?"

"Because we keep to ourselves, and many species fear us. Drixonians have a far-reaching reputation, and we're very odd-looking Drixonians. On Planet Kew, we're called the Beasts.

"Yes, they keep calling you Beasty. When I try to correct them with your name, they just look confused and keep calling you Beasty."

"Beasty is fine. They saved our lives, so they can call me whatever they want." I pushed myself to a sitting position, and although my head spun for a moment, the feeling passed quickly. I lay on a bedding pallet that was way too small for my bulk. My feet hung over the edge at my knees, and the room consisted of a small table and tiny chairs—clearly a Loppie living space that they'd given to us for the time being. But it was private and quiet, both of which I appreciated.

Lorna reached behind her and picked up a folded pile of fabric. "They sewed some clothes for you. A little Loppie came in here and measured you while you were sleeping. They made clothes for me too." She plucked at her shirt with a smile. "They are quite hospitable."

"Hospitable?" With effort, I managed to pull on the pants. They'd even left a hole for my tail.

"Accommodating." Lorna helped me fasten the pants over the base of my tail. "Happy to help."

My stomach growled, and the sound was loud in the small space. Lorna's gaze darted to my stomach before she began to laugh. I was relieved she no longer shed tears. "I guess it's been a while since you ate. The food here is… interesting. Um, the Loppies are vegetarians."

I stood up and stretched. My back cracked, and I had to work out a few kinks in my tail. But considering the condition I'd been in recently, this was nothing. "Vegetarian?"

"They don't eat meat."

I frowned. "So what do they eat?"

"Plants. Anything that can grow." She pointed to the glowing blooms on the wall. "They have underground greenhouses fueled by these flowers. I don't quite understand how it works, but these flowers simulate sun rays."

"No meat?" I was still stuck on that.

She chewed on her lip. "No."

I frowned and dug a toe claw into the dirt. "Maybe I can eat a Loppie."

"Whitten!"

"I don't mean that," I said quickly. I didn't. I had maybe entertained the thought for a tiny brief moment, but no. No Loppie meals. I'd manage until the Dark passed. But as soon as the sun rose again, I was devouring everything in my path.

Lorna narrowed her eyes at me, like she was worried I'd snatch a Loppie off the street and bite its head off. But she rose with a sigh and tugged me toward the door. "Come on. The Loppies will be so excited to see you awake. We've had a few ding dong ditches."

"Ding dong what ?"

Lorna laughed. "Nevermind."

She opened the door, and we stepped out onto a bustling underground street. I hadn't been able to hear anything through the door, and I was amazed at the sound proofing of the Loppie dwellings. Out here, Loppies pulled carts piled high with colorful plants and vegetables. A few small chits ran after a runaway ball.

Now that I appeared, the street seemed to come to a near halt. Loppies stared with their big eyes. A few began to point, and then someone yelled, "The Beasty is awake!" A cheer went up among the Loppies. They clapped their little paws, and let out sharp, high-pitched yaps.

"How long was I out?" I asked Lorna.

"I told you it was a long time," she said with a smile. "But it's okay, because your body needed it to heal."

That explained why I felt so good after being beaten to a pulp. Lorna gripped my wrist and pulled me down the street. Some of the Loppie chits followed behind, circling around us at times. I felt a tug on my tail. A poke at my claws. I let them look because I owed the Loppies my life. More importantly, I owed them Lorna's life. They'd saved us from being torn apart by the Ev. My brothers would never have known where I was or what happened to me. They'd never have been able to meet Lorna.

"There is a plant they have that when cooked and shredded tastes a bit like chicken, which is an animal on Earth that we eat," Lorna said as I scraped a chit off my leg who had started to climb up to my waist. The small ones were tiny, barely making it up to my knee, and their eyes took up nearly their whole face. This one squawked at me with delight as I held him up to my face before dropping him back on the ground. All his friends gathered around him. "Loppies see Beasty! Loppies touch Beasty!" They tittered. I found myself wanted to smile, but hunger took precedence. "Is chicken tasty?"

"I like it." Lorna tapped her lip as she took a turn down a side street tunnel. The smell of food hit me quickly—sweet and spicy. My mouth watered. "While you were asleep, I came out to eat a few times for food. I didn't have anything to barter, but they told me ‘Beasty and his companion' eat free. I'm not sure why."

"Queen will compensate them." My nose was following a particularly enticing scent, and when it led me to a small stand, Lorna stopped too. "This is it."

The Loppie behind the stand stood up. During our walk, I was nearly sure I had figured out the genders. The Loppies were made up of male and female. The females had four nipples stacked on top of each other on their chests. The males had larger bellies and a bulging fur pocket between their legs.

This Loppie was female, and her eyes went immediately wide when she saw us. Her hands worked over her table, which was covered with steaming bins of a purple shredded food. "Loppies feed Beasty," she said as she filled two bowls with a white porridge and topped it with the shredded substance. "Loppies feed No Fur."

I gave Lorna a questioning look. She pointed to her arm with a smirk. "I'm No Fur. They have trouble saying human."

I accepted the bowl from the Loppie. She also handed me a curious-looking tool that resembled the utensils that Queen taught us to use—a hybrid between a spoon and a fork.

"They have sporks here!" Lorna said happily as she dug into her bowl.

"Spork," I murmured to myself as I began to eat. Quickly, I understood what Lorna was so excited about this food—the flavors were intense. Queen had taught us a lot about seasoning, but still many of the plants and vegetables she attempted to feed us were still bland and unsatisfying to me. But the porridge mixed with the hearty shredded vegetable burst with flavor and gave me something to chew. I inhaled two more bowls before I finally patted my bulging stomach. "Thank you. This Beasty appreciated your food."

The Loppie shimmied, and her ears wiggled. "Loppies feed Beasty. Beasty likes Loppies food. Loppies are so happy to feed Beasty."

Lorna thanked her before taking my hand and leading me away from the stand. I took one last look at the cook and pointed at her. "Beasty will be back." The Loppie tittered in what I took as laughter.

Lorna

Whitten was awake and healthy. We were safe with the lovable Loppies. For the first time in a long time, that knot of dread that had festered in my stomach unraveled. I wasn't waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wasn't anticipating the next horrible thing that would happen to me. I was safe. Happy. Excited to explore this new underground world of tiny teddy bears with the love of my life.

All the Loppies I'd met so far had been very kind, and the doctor had told me that when Whitten awoke, I was to take him to see the head of the settlement, who they called Mable. I'd learned that Loppies didn't use distinguishable names for each other unless they were close family or a high-ranking official. Mable had no title as far as I could determine, but her name carried a heavy tone of reverence among all who spoke it.

I led Whitten down the main street as I'd been told Mable's residence stood at the end. Essentially, all roads led to Mable. As the street continued, the number of Loppies decreased and we soon began to see many more of the spear-holding Loppies milling around and performing drills. At the sight of us, they would stomp their spear butts on the ground and say phrases like, "Loppies heal Beasty," and "Lopes greet No Fur."

My nickname never failed to make me giggle a little.

We were in fact underground. The Loppies were not a ferocious species capable of defending themselves against larger, stronger species, and they also weren't a physically fast bunch. While they did come up to the surface when the sun was up, their settlement remained underground, made up of a series of tunnels and caverns that they'd carved out of the clay-like ground. The glowing flowers gave off a surprising amount of light, and the Loppies were able to grow much of their own food underground. I was surprised at the resourcefulness. The flowers dimmed for a certain period of the day, which was when the Loppies slept.

One thing that was plentiful down here—the clay. During the period of sun, they formed bricks and let them bake in the heat. The bricks were then brought underground and stored for when needed to build a new structure. I wasn't quite sure where their water source was, but I knew they had one, as they'd brought me water to drink, and filled a basin with warm water for me to wash in.

Whitten walked with his paw resting on my opposite shoulder. His gait was smooth again. He no longer limped, although he held his body somewhat stiffly. His ears twitched as he took in all the new sounds. His mangled ear had healed but remained torn and scarred. He didn't seem to mind.

As a large dwelling formed on the road ahead, a spear-holding Loppie jogged to greet us. "Mable wishes to meet Beasty and No Fur."

"We wish to meet her and thank her," I answered. Whitten grunted his acknowledgement.

"Loppies take you to see Mable. Mable is best of the Loppies."

While the dwelling ahead was large, it wasn't opulent. There was no adornment to distinguish it much from the rest of the Loppie dwellings. I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't for the front door to open and an older Loppie wearing a colorful beaded belt to raise one paw in greeting. Her fur was graying around her eyes and mouth. She had a wrap on her left wrist.

"Mable greets Beasty and No Fur." Her voice was strong and booming for such a small creature. "Mable is honored to invite you into Mable's home." She stepped back into her arm and gestured for us to follow.

We both had to duck to clear the doorframe, but once inside, it was clear she'd made some sort of effort to have some furniture suited to us. There appeared to be a hastily made brick bench with a higher seat than the other chairs in the room, and a padded seat lay on top. There was also a table on a clay brick platform with food dishes on a cloth top.

Like the outside of her home, the inside was modest. The only thing distinguishing Mable from the rest of the Loppies was her colorful beaded belt. While I'd seen others wear personal decoration, the blue beads on this belt seemed to glow and shift. A small round medallion hung from one hip with a symbol etched into it.

"Beasty and No Fur sit." Mable pointed a paw to the bench. "Mable hears Beasty awake. Loppies prepare treats. Mable doesn't make good treats." She seemed to chuckle to herself as she settled into a chair with arms. The chair seemed to be the most decorative item in the room—made of wood with scroll designs. I hadn't seen much wood in the whole village, so I wondered if this had been a gift from somewhere.

Whitten sat and braced his paws on his knees as his ears scraped the ceiling. "I want to thank you for what you did for me and my mate. We were not in a good situation."

Mable wrinkled her little nose. "Inklas don't know about Loppies. But Loppies know about Inklas. Loppies don't like what Inklas do. Loppies cannot stop Inklas. But Loppies help Beasty. Loppies risk lives to help Beasty and No Fur. Loppies have no regrets." She straightened in her chair. "Mable proud of Loppies."

Whitten's lips peeled back in a smile. "You should be proud of your Loppies. They saved our lives. Thank you."

"Loppies make slide. Inklas don't know." Her head tilted. "Is Beasty better? Beasty has hurts."

Whitten straightened, but bumped his head on the ceiling, so resumed his forward slump. "I'm much better. I owe that to you and your Loppies."

"Loppies heal," Mable's chin tilted up. "Loppies owe all Beastys."

"Can you tell us more about that?" I asked. "Have you met a Beasty?" I felt odd using that term but wasn't sure what else to say.

Mable's paws tapped the arms of her chair. "Horned ones steal Loppies. Horned ones like to eat Loppies." Mable's eyes went very big, and she shuddered. "Feathered Beastie saves many Loppies. Feathered Beastie returns Loppies to home. Feathered Beastie asks nothing of Loppies in return. Feathered Beasty is one of many. Striped Beasty. Horned Beasty. Fanged Beasty." She gestured to Whitten. "All Beastys are equal to Loppies. Beasty values No Fur, so Loppies value No Fur. Now Loppies like No Fur."

"No Fur—I mean, I like the Loppies too," I answered. "And Mable. I like Mable."

Mable's little chest puffed out. "Loppies will keep Beasty and No Fur until sun rises. Beasty and No Fur are safe from dark with Loppies."

Whitten rubbed at his jaw. "We would like that. I can finish healing, and when the sun rises, my mate and I will travel the rest of the way home."

"Mable likes that idea," she said.

Whitten nodded. "Can I ask a favor?"

Mable sat up, as if eager to grant a request. "Mable does favors."

"Do you have any sort of communication device? As long as it can get a signal, it's all I need."

Mable deflated a bit. "Mable is not expert. But Mable get a Loppie who helps. Will Beasty and No Fur wait a moment?"

I smiled. "We have plenty of time."

Mable rose to her small, pawed feet. "Beasty and No Fur stay. Beasty and No Fur eat. Mable returns with help."

She puttered out her front door, leaving us alone in her home. I took the time to look around more. The first floor was one open room with seating and a table. Glowing blooms decorated the walls along with large swaths of painted murals in a swirling pattern. Stairs led up a second floor.

Whitten dug into the food Mable had left us, and I picked at what I assumed were berries. They were juicy and sweet but crunchy like carrots.

"Are you hoping to call home?" I asked Whitten.

"Yes," he said as he poked at a large leaf about the size of my head. He didn't seem interested. "My brothers will know something happened since I didn't return before the dark. And I hate worrying Queen." He frowned as he nibbled at the left. "And I'm worried they're messing with my stuff. Tain is a disaster, and if he broke anything in my den, I'll pull his tail."

I snorted. "What were you all like as little ones? Were you able to play with each other?"

"Queen and Father escaped with us when we were still very young. So most of my memories are good ones, where I played with my brothers. We chased each other. Pulled tails." He grinned. "Butted heads… and horns. We owe Queen and my father everything. We have a good life because of what they risked. So I understand why Mable feels indebted to us, but in a way that makes her proud to pay the debt. Every time we make Queen smile, every time I think about how she's safe, I feel a bit of relief knowing Fatas is rewarding her for her sacrifices."

I slid my fingers over his furred arm and laid my head against his shoulder. "You're a good Beasty, Whitten."

He snorted a laugh.