//------------------------------// // Aground // Story: Collie of the Wild // by elmagnifico //------------------------------// Collie of the Wild by Elmagnifico Aground Winona awoke horizontal. This was the first thing her senses told her. The next was that trying to move swayed her back and forth, and whatever she was wrapped in smelled of musty locker. Light came in tiny patches, like the musty-locker-wrap was only letting in little shafts of illumination. Sound was only present in the form of some creaks and groans, like a house settling on its foundations. The silence was broken by a growling from her midsection. Realizing she was hungry, Winona decided to get up. She shifted her weight, but rather than rolling on solid ground, the musty-locker-wrap moved with her, and there was no comforting solidity. Without anything to lend her traction aside from the smelly wrapping, she gave a short growl and started to get out with an almost frantic energy. A few seconds of thrashing later, she was deposited unceremoniously on the floor by the must-wrap. The impact gave her an aching head again, albeit mild compared to the migraine that had blacked her out before. “Oh, hey there sleepyhead.” It was Tuuli, standing off to her left in a doorway. His beaked face looked somewhere between amused, relieved and sheepish. “Very sorry about what happened, we didn't realize you had a condition. The Captain doesn't think it's anything serious, probably just dehydration and fatigue.” He stood there for a few seconds, with a grin that put Winona in the mind for cheese plastered over his face, before he dropped the expression and sighed. “Fine, I slept through the shift change and left you up there too long. Captain says I'm to take your watch until noon. We're still cozy on the sandbank you found for us, so you can sit pretty, maybe visit the galley, while my brother and I try and figure a way to get us off.” When asked, Tuuli pointed behind him at what was apparently the galley, and then leapt straight up through the open hatch. Winona took the opportunity to look around. She could hear footsteps thumping around above her. Light was streaming in through an occasional knothole above, and the hatch behind. It was a dark, moldy smelling space, narrow and oddly shaped. Crates were stacked near where the room's walls came to a point, opposite the door Tuuli had been standing in. She could smell something coming from the crates, but what it was eluded her. It was metallic, whatever it was, but unlike anything that had been in Solitaire's hut, or any further back she could remember, for that matter. A noise from behind Winona attracted her attention before she could puzzle out the crates, their smell, and the odd pull they had on her mind. She turned to take in the source of the sound, perhaps a scratch, a cough, or a scratchy cough, she wasn't sure. It was neither one of the twins nor the captain. Thinking back, Winona realized this was the fourth crewmember, Pooch. He (she could smell that much,) was a bipedal creature, at just a little bit below her height. His nose was square and stubby, only sticking out a little above his jaw, which projected out in a massive underbite. Two earnest, curious eyes were looking her over in much the same way she was him. Once again there was the urge to sniff at his tail, with the accompanying impression that would be a bad idea. A pair of sharp, pointed ears completed the silhouette. His fur was very short, a dark hue that contrasted with his bright eyes. There were still darker patches here and there, giving him a mottled appearance, although the patchy light from above didn’t help. His vest was covered in pockets where hers was checkered and plain, and each pocket was filled with bits of what smelled, glinted and clinked like metal. His tail was short and stubby, with what looked like hardened spikes of fur sticking out at odd angles. It swished back and forth pensively. Overall though, he reminded her of nothing more than a slightly more hunched, short-haired version of herself. She could smell similarities, and there was an odd pull towards him, like the one from the crates, but instead of at the forefront and almost soothing, it was insistent and at the back of her mind. Winona chose to ignore that. At length, he broke the silence. Up until this point, Winona had recognized most words, and if the meaning behind them escaped her, the sounds at least were familiar. Now, his words meant nothing at all. The tones and sounds were completely foreign. They were nice-sounding words, pleasing to hear and flowing in and out of eachother like a burbling stream. Or, they sounded like they were and would be, if it weren't for the thick, guttural accent that punctuated the mismatched lot. Her confusion must have shown on her face, because he abruptly switched, moving into a more natural-sounding mode of speech that went better with his accent. It still made absolutely no sense to Winona. This disconnect jarred her out of the absent-minded looking-over she'd started giving him. Shaking her head, she almost missed a comment, thrown down from above by Mikko (Or was it Tuuli? She wasn't close enough to catch the scent). “Oi, stop confusing the poor girl Pooch. She speaks Equish just fine.” Ignoring or otherwise responding to anything in the enclosed space was cut short and rendered irrelevant by a tinny reproduction of the Captain's voice. “Full reverse power!” Pooch, for that was apparently his name, shouted back. “Aye, kaptin!” With that, he stepped through a doorway opposite the one she was standing in. A high, shrill whistle broke out, followed by a steady chug, chug sound. The chunnering increased in pace, and the entire ship shifted with a thud and a splash. Something clattered over the decking, and a few shouts rang out above. There were another set of thumps, and then another metallic shout. “Full speed ahead Mister Van Puch,” it said. After a few moments, he poked his head back out. “Vell? If hyu don't hef ze decency to speak Shelt or Dober, least hyu could do is accept my offer for a tour.” The tone was caustic, but with a hint of something else. Winona wasn't sure what else was lurking beneath those words, but the idea of being impolite itched at something behind her eyes. There was newspaper involved. Being impolite was bad. So she followed the odd creature as he retreated into the next room. Winona's eyes widened as her vision took in the space she'd stepped into. All around were humming lights glowing from grooves cut in straight, sharp shapes through wood and metal. Some things spun too fast for her to see. Others moved back and forth with no-one moving them, and their clicks beat a staccato rhythm, like a heartbeat of oak and iron. Hissing emanated from a hot, round cylinder larger than the Captain, and pipes rattled and whistled at odd intervals. “Zees” Even though the parts, the sights smells and sounds, were unfamiliar, the spirit of the place, or at least the impression Winona got off the setting, was as near and dear to her heart as the smell of earth, straw and apples. “Ees mein kingdom.” This was a place where work got done. Pooch thumped at something, and the grin on his face could only have been pride. Winona remembered pride. It was how she felt on a sunny knoll in late afternoon, looking out on her home, surveying the domain of herself and her friend. “She is Sharp Seven-Seven vater-cooled dual rotary rune engine out of Clawchester. Griffons zere make best engines, but don't let ze Twins know I tell you that. Ze last thing those two need is bigger egos. Especially sinze zey is not even from zere.” He paused, and Winona just watched the machine go for a bit, observing the dance of all the parts in perfect harmony. “Zo, vhere you from? Der Sheltmarch iz isolated normally, dose born zere not leave willingly. And zey all speak Shelt.” Pooch took a long, wheezing breath. “Hyu not smell like escaped slave. Zo, hyu are Republican? Live among ze Mimagi? Perhaps Griffon Protectorate? Swampkin? Vould not be first time ve hef found ze rail-runners in marsh, but typically zhey not need a lift.” Winona frowned. She wasn't sure. She couldn't remember the place's name, and none of the ones Pooch had mentioned sounded familiar. She thought back as the gears moved in their mechanical tango. “It was a warm land, rolling hills and farms tended by Solitaire's people.” Winona could see Pooch's expression narrowing in the corner of her eye. “Ekvestria? Zat is unusual. Dog might be Pony's best friend, but Canid is Ponies' least favorite race. Ve not liked much in ze North.” He sighed, and rolled both eyes. “Ees not like I blame zem. Gem Poachers raid zeir mines constantly, and only reason ze Hornblende Hounds not executed when zey run across ze Dober border trailing half ze Ranger corps is because ze old treaty not allow for extradition. As ees, zey get reassigned to vorking ze Saluk mines.” He gave her a meaningful look, “Vich is almost as bad.” A hiss came from the machine, and one of the spinning wheels stopped turning. It threw out a cloud of odd-smelling vapor, and a new noise, a discordant clank, clank, clank, emitted from somewhere within the mechanical heart of the ship. Pooch reached down and grabbed a metal object, a thin bar with an oddly shaped end, and visited the misbehaving mechanism with a combination of trauma both physical and invective. He bashed at one of the more solid-looking metal parts, punctuating each hit with a word Winona didn't understand. “Flippervalt! Gerschput! Gerschput!” She wasn't sure whether it was the hitting or the yelling that finally subdued the mechanism. Either way, when Pooch turned back to her the engine was chugging along like normal. “But, enough about politics. Zees is supposed to be grand tour! And not zat confusing zing ze tvins did yesterday. I show you all ze worky-bits, and you get to see vat makes zees boat tick!” They moved through the machinery, Pooch directing her to duck or to grab “Zat great, er, big, ahem, ah, tail of yours.” to keep from getting caught in the gears as needed. Winona only half listened. There was a pull, something interesting, that they were approaching. It wasn't Pooch, she'd already gotten used to ignoring that. Whatever it was reminded her of the peace she'd felt when she looked at the Blinklings in Solitaire's house, and of feelings associated with the crates in the other room. More terms she didn't understand. Gyro-stabilizer. Roto-magic converter. Gearbox. Mana siphon. Main coolant valve. Crystal Housing. Then, Pooch lifted a hatch, and it all became clear. She could definitely tell the feeling's source was the crystal now. It smelled of rock, but cleaner. Beyond the smell though was a throbbing, behind her eyes, like a migrane but almost comforting. The closer she got to it, the stronger the throb got. She put her hand in, and Pooch’s warning yelp came a second too late. One moment, she was feeling the throbbing, hearing the heartbeat of the ship. A sharp intake of breath, and she was that beat. She could feel her own heart, but throbbing inside her now alongside it was a great, pulsing energy. That energy had a word in it, not one she could remember or understand, but she could feel the idea, the thought behind that energy. Move. The word was farther off, out and along, but she could feel it. It wanted to make her go, speed, celerity, momentum, she felt if she held on the energy would push her onward, and only something very solid would make her stop. Then, she breathed out, and the beat was gone. “Hyu are not normal Shelt, are hyu.” She turned to the voice. Pooch’s eyes were very white, like he’d been walking in the noonday sun. Winona shook her head. She could still feel the throbbing, but now it was more like the steady beat of her heart, or the sound of her breath. Normal. Unimportant. Now she just felt awkward. Pooch was staring at her, the engine was pounding away, Perhaps talking would make that go away. She sighed, taking a moment to think of what to say. “What about you? Where are you from? Pooch turned away. She could barely hear his reply over the engine. “Ich bin ein Eigenbrötler.“ Winona cocked her head. More words that meant nothing. “I am alone. I hef no pack, no family. Is ancient custom, vhen certain Dobervolk come of age, leave ze mountains, find self, find friends. Find mate. Find family. Start new pack, maybe come back to mountains, maybe start new Dober colony. Normally take place underground, but I choose ze surface.” Pooch's face became even more downcast, and a sigh whistled between the snaggled teeth. “Vas perhaps not best idea. Has been very lonely. Not many free dogs on ze surface. My people, zey not pay attention much to what goes on aboveground. Haz given us a reputation as trespassers. Thieves. Vorse. Other breeds have reasons for not playing nice. Danes are best at smashing schtuff, most peoples only see zem for dumb muscle. Shelt keep to zemselves. And Salukii attitudes not help much, az usual. Noses too far in ze air to be much use.“ Winona only nodded. Even over the roaring of the machinery, she could hear the loneliness in Pooch’s voice. Even more, his eyes were aimed the whirring gears, but they were unfocused, and if they had been outside, he would have been staring into the distance. So they simply stood there, together, listening to the movement. Not saying anything, just being there. It was enough.