The inn had the pulsing, frenetic ambience of an auction house. Wall clocks and mantel clocks began crying like babies as they one by one struck 11:24.
Phezz groaned. Another excruciating morning. “I can’t hear myself think!”
“You could always leave,” the late Lord Pompington said. “Leave my inn!” His wispy form didn’t match
“Mama?” a scared, little voice called.
Phezznibbet Maplebark’s ears twitched, his paw closing around the bottom knife in his bandolier. He poked his head around the slimy dumpster that hid him. At the front of the alleyway stood a figure not much smaller than himself. It didn’t appear threatening, so he took a few
“If Ashe wanted to convince him, she would have to face him alone.”
The Narrator in her head, her “magic,” spoke. The voice narrated events around her periodically, granting her insights she had no right to possess. She hesitated outside the entrance to Canopy’s sole tree-top lodge, The Maplebark Inn. Its owner would complete
“For too long, the pigs have slammed the door on us wolves. They’ve got us by the chinny-chin-chin!” Burly gray wolf Bigsby Badham paces the stage in a huff before a towering jumbotron showing the rotating logo of his company, Wolf Works. “But this is the year we blow them away!”
The auditorium erupts
I swing to a higher branch, the beast’s massive jaws nearly closing on my tail. Gnashing teeth and fiery eyes lunge high—higher than I’d calculated—sharp claws scrabbling at bark. I’m out of reach, barely, and my fingers itch to slash at it with one of my blades downward to ensure my escape.
Read it now
“I can’t believe her!” Dr. Null paced at the lair’s front door. “She said she thought this lair was perfect for us, but she forgot to mention the colony of warmongering squirrels?”
“Calm down, Your Emptiness,” Inferno quipped. “We’ll just evict the Xintixa and the lairs is ours. No wonder the price is low;
Crouched in the underbrush, Phezz sniffed the stagnant air. The stench hung like a poison. It even crowded out the musty scent of the old dog behind him.
He clasped the longest of his antler-handled knives, secure in the bandolier around his chest, but ready to fly free at the flick of a paw.
“Get your filthy hide out of here!” The broom came dangerously close to shortening me by a tail. I dove underneath the table, but I still felt the tickle of its straw.
Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I was getting attacked by someone with a weapon of mass cleaning. It’s kind of a
“I’m serious; I don’t need a bodyguard.” Moxly scowled, arms crossed. He grunted when Brix swung him around to face the entryway mirror.
“Do you see that face?”
Moxly pulled out of Brix’s grasp and made a point of adjusting his tunic. “I’ve seen it many times, dear brother. It’s mine.”
“Yes. It’s yours.”
“Phezznibbet Maplebark, we’re Xintixa. We’re not meant to be heroes.” Tilly folded her front paws across her chest, pushed her pointed nose into the air, and twitched her bushy hazelnut tail.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t contribute,” Phezz argued. “I bet I’m braver than anyone amongst the larger races, despite being a quarter their size.”
At first glance, it looked like just another broken branch—one of many in the forest canopy due to the previous day’s windstorm. However, Phezz noticed it twitching within a tangle of vines in the fork of an ash tree. The Xintixa’s eyes widened. That’s no branch. Too round, too smooth, and there’s straw
Read it now
Zaivar Witz studied the mist dealer behind the counter, wondering if the wizened man could actually help him find a new disguise. Harvesting and selling mist from the kingdom’s shrouded mountains required an unmatched madness. But Zai never cared for convention—if it helped him track down his warrants, why question it?
Read it now
Recent Comments