ANATIDAE [P]

[SONJA LUTAIR]

Everything was quiet, still, dead. The grey vault above promised rain, as did the smell on the air. But for now, there was not even the breeze one would expect before such weather. Sonja was conflicted on whether to think the silence reassuring, or ominous. Then again, she was still conflicted on whether this whole trip was a horrible idea, or something she needed to get done already. On the one hand, large sections of the territory were still unfamiliar to her. She hadn’t accompanied that many scouting missions; most of her time had been spent close to base so far. She liked to think that ‘exploration’ had simply migrated down her to-do list. It was a long list, after all, and it hadn’t been neglected. There were so many things to learn, skills to acquire, and Sonja already had knowledgeable ringmates trying their best to avoid her.

But the fact remained that she still had skill gaps, and one such gap was the ability to fight. It wasn’t like she intended to become sort of valkyrie. The problem was more that, apparently, plenty of the dome’s denizens were out for bloodshed and conquest. The last thing Sonja wanted was to get murdered over something stupid. Or wounded, and therefore less useful to the ring while still using resources. Or, god forbid, caught and used to levy resources from the ring. She hoped they wouldn’t be foolish enough to actually agree to such a thing, but these people were a bit soft, in some regards.

This uncertainty continued to flit in the background of Sonja’s mental mapmaking. It was occasionally distracting, but only crashed to the forefront when an sudden, eerie bang broke the silence. Even then, that was only for the five seconds it took her to remember where she’d heard it before. Some new poor soul dumped into the dome.

It wasn’t till after she’d calmed down that she realized she was a camel, which felt like a bit of an intrusion. Her shift had never even shown up until that one incident, back in secondary school, but ever since then it had become more and more common for shifting to be an emotional reaction. Given her mixed feelings about shifting, this wasn’t the most welcome development. But, again, her shift’s size was one of the few defenses she had. Besides, this wasn’t meant to be a stealth operation. Sonja saw best to approach cautiously but straightforward, with no signs of fear or hidden motives. If the person did turn out dangerous, well - camels have a long stride.

It turned out to be an unnecessary precaution. The person in question was a small child, maybe 12 or so, and out cold. Once human again, Sonja edged over and placed one hand to the girl’s wrist, while the other hovered over her mouth. The vitals checked out, and Sonja leaned back, lip between her teeth. Her understanding was that one should try to rope the unclaimed into the ring. Fallen was open even to the weak and inexperienced, and anyone could be shaped into a contributing member. Safety in numbers and all that. Sonja would have most likely tried to bring them home anyway, but it was nice knowing she wouldn’t have to deal with opposition. She didn’t like pushing people around, they just kept standing where they were going to have to be pushed.

Sonja was coiled as she leaned in to shake the girl’s shoulder. Even she knew to expect the unexpected from anyone the Keepers had fiddled with. “Hey. Hey there, can you hear me? Come on now, you’ve got to get up.” There was no immediate effect, which wasn’t that surprising. She shifted her weight, but never once relaxed as she stayed close, periodically trying to rouse the girl.

[Irka Holubice]

The world was dark and hollow, swimming with the lonely emptiness that accompanied being unconscious. There was nothing. No light, no sound. Not even an awareness of it. It was different than being asleep. When you're asleep, you dream.

There we're no dreams for Irka.

At least, not at first. After a very long, inky blackness, the small girl began to come to. And with consciousness, her memories flooded back. Her old house out in the country. Big acres of land covered in tall, yellow grass. The wind would whisper through the fields, welcoming a small curious girl with the promise of secrets and adventure.

Before Irka's eyes flashed images of her bedroom, her place of solace. Her old oak bed covered with a worn pink, blue, and green patchwork quilt, given to her by her mother before she disappeared. She saw her bookshelves, groaning from the weight of her well loved books. The glow-in-the-dark stars pasted to the slanted attic ceiling. The jars and bottles and boxes of little things she's collected sitting on her desk and stacked in the nooks of her room. Her broken, yet prized telescope sitting on the bed, having recently been used for stargazing. The moonlight slipping through the open window like an old friend, smiling with a cool and loving glow.

Then, the noise. The bang of a door being forced open. The screams of her foster mother and siblings as they are wrestled to the floor by people in masks and people in long white coats. There are people in her sanctuary. They've destroyed her peace. Irka feels large, strong hands grab her nimble arms and she begins to struggle. In a split second and without any warning, she feels her body shift. Her already small form becomes even smaller, shrinking down to a dreadfully frightened little white dove. She darts around the room, trying to escape the grasp of the scary doctors. But to no avail.

Irka hears, mingling with the screaming, a voice. Someone she's never heard before. Who could it be? "Do you hear me? Get up, little girl! Please, wake up!"

She began to stir, coming out of her torrid dream state. Her eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright, breathing heavily. "Mother!? Help me, please!"

[SONJA LUTAIR]

It started to get annoying. Not only did she have to hold her ready stance, she had to force all her attention on an unresponsive girl and an unchanging environment. With so little to analyze, it was easy to think less of what was happening and more of what might happen. Faint sounds were certain doom for a split second. Movements flickered in the edges of her vision. Surely someone would show up….if they weren’t lurking already.


In fact, it very suddenly occurred to Sonja that having a kid lie helpless on the ground was an easy ploy to draw someone in for ambush and robbery. A stupidly simple ploy, even.


Right when she was wound up on that thought, there was finally a response from the girl. The first signs of waking gave Sonja a jolt. When the girl shot upright, Sonja sprang back like a cat- in speed, at least, though with not quite so much grace.


And of course, the kid called out for her mother. Sonja’s lips curled in at that. She wasn’t one to try and dodge that subject. The girl had a right to know, and the longer she thought she might see her parents again, the harder she’d crash when she found how unlikely that was. However, the emotional fallout could be…..annoying. And out here, the last thing Sonja wanted was for the girl to have a loud breakdown. If she didn’t give her any chances to ask questions, maybe she could pass her off to somebody in the ring who would deal with explaining everything.


Because the girl was definitely coming home with her. The possibility remained that she was bait, but Sonja couldn’t concern herself with that, now that she was over the initial fear of that thought. If it was true, either she’d whisk the youngster from a life of crime, or Sonja herself would be in a world of trouble, but no one else would get hurt. She wasn’t exactly keen to get robbed and murdered, but she couldn’t justify abandoning a child based on paranoia.


“I’m not your mum. I will help you, though.” Sonja pushed herself to her feet and made her way over. “Here’s what you need to know for now. You’re in the Menagerie, and if you don’t know what that is, just know it’s not particularly safe. You can ask questions later.” And with that, she shifted to her camel form and kneeled down, giving the girl a long look. “Get on and hold on tight.”


----


Thank goodness for camel legs. Sonja could only just handle being out here alone; trying to keep a child safe on foot would have done a number on her nerves. But few people would bother trying to stop a two-meter tall animal loping along, especially with few places to potentially hide valuables.


It wasn’t perfect. Every so often it felt as if the girl’s balance was drifting dangerously, and Sonja would perform some sort of awkward swerve to right her. If that was what was even going on; for all she knew, the girl was just fine, and Sonja was just making things more difficult by throwing in some drunken weaving. She wasn’t going to bother shouting over the wind and her own hooves to find out.


Either way, it couldn’t be easy to hold on to a running camel with no tack of any kind. Not long after they passed into the full desert, Sonja slowed, then carefully lowered herself to the ground.


Once the kid was off, Sonja rose and shifted. “We should be alright, now,” she said, paying more attention to brushing sand off her legs. “Might as well tell you, I’m Sonja. You can call me that, no need for any ‘miss’ business.” She spared the girl a look over her shoulders as she started off in the direction of home base. “Now, what do I call you?”
 

[Irka Holubice]

Irka saw nothing at first except the gray, cloudy sky. She felt dirt and grass under her hands as she tried to slow her frantic breathing and get a grip on where she was.

The woman spoke to her again, startling the poor girl even more. But this woman, who was curt in tone but had a friendly glimmer in her eye, explained that she was not her mother and this place where Irka had found herself was called... the Menagerie?

That was when things got very strange. This seemingly normal woman changed into a full blown camel. Irka let out a small shriek, but clapped her hand over her mouth, heeding the warning that it wasn't safe to be out in the open like this. Irka hesitated for a brief moment, before heading the instructions from the camel woman and climbing aboard her back.

-----

The ride seemed a lot longer then it actually was. She was thankful to not have to walk, but riding a camel bareback wasn't exactly the most comfortable experience in the world. On top of that, the wind was dreadfully strong. This didn't exactly phase the poor girl, seeing as she had lived on the Great Plains in the middle of a dust bowl her whole life. Wind was a common friend.

But this wind carried dust and sand, which kept getting in her eyes. Irka decided the best solution was to keep her head down and bury her head in the camel's neck. Every so often Irka's arms would get tired or the wind would push her in a strange direction and she would feel her balance begin to teeter. Thankfully, the camel lady seemed aware of Irka's lack of coordination and was careful to keep her on board.

Once the stopped, Irka carefully slid of the camel's back and stretched her legs. She rubbed some dust out of her eyes before turning to look helplessly at the woman, who had now introduced herself as Sonja.

Irka tussled with herself, trying to decide if she should answer the question. This woman seemed trustworthy enough. She had carried the poor girl all this way on her back, for goodness sake. It occurred to Irka now that the experience must have been just as unpleasant for Sonja, if not worse. She decided the least she could do was offer a name in return for the trip.

"I-Irka." She stuttered, nervous even now. "Thank you for bringing me all this way. But, where exactly are we? I know you called it a... menagerie? But what is that? Why am I here? When can I go home?" The questions flowed from her worried little head. She wished more than anything she could curl up under her favorite quilt with a book and a cup of warm milk.

[SONJA LUTAIR]

The girl hesitated to her name away. That was promising; it was a sign she thought before acting. Less promising was the quiver to the girl’s voice, but she couldn’t really be blamed for it.


The name Irka was not one Sonja had heard before. It made her curious about the girl’s point of origin, though not enough to bother with that right now. As long as it wasn’t those pretentious names that were like nails on a chalkboard to say aloud.


The questions Irka asked were certainly interesting. How could she not know about this place? Did she even know about shapeshifters? After all, Irka had yelped when Sonja first took her camel form; maybe she wasn’t aware of her heritage yet? She’d heard of it happening.


Or maybe that information had been carefully kept from her. It would have been hard. Sonja remembered the almost nightly chill as another capture was reported on the news. She remembered the barrage of advertisements and posters that dispelled any doubt as to how to let UNIT know you knew of, or even suspected, a shifter. It was hard to imagine hiding all that from the ever-curious eyes of a child, but perhaps it could be done.


Some would think it was better not to worry their young ones. For all her reluctance, Sonja thought that ridiculous. It was unfair to keep someone from knowing their situation based on their age.


“Okay, I don’t know how much you know….I’m a shapeshifter. If you’re here, I’m assuming you are, too. People are afraid of that, and they’re rounding us up and putting us in here, the Menagerie, because they think we’re some sort of dangerous, wild creatures. So barring any miracles, you’re not going home. But I’m taking you to my ring…my group. You’ll be safe there.”


Sonja did not slow her pace, nor did she give Irka any lingering glances. If she didn’t give the girl a chance, maybe she wouldn’t throw a huge fit about the news. Maybe she’d keep it to at least some light sniffling, some silent tears. If things got loud and messy, sure, she was going to have to acknowledge it, just to urge the kid onward. For now, though, Sonja caught herself actually holding her breath.