Pom's Chapter — A Novelization of a Story That Doesn't Yet Exist

by AIPomgeon

Chapter 1 — The Meadow

"Oh, but somebody has tae do something!"

These words were the largest and possibly final mistake of Pom's life.

---

It was an ordinary, peaceful day in Baaah when a strange foreigner bearing terrible news arrived. A zebra, Pom were later told was the species, ran across town with that terrible message. "They've returned! The predators have returned!"

Every sheep in earshot quickly went into a panic, least of all Pom. She rushed home, checking on her pups. Ruff, Tuft and Puff all greeted her at the door, yapping excitedly, while runt of the litter Woof sat sound asleep. Gently she woke him, and he licked her face.

"C'mere lads, something bad is happening." Pom said, affixing leashes to them.

"Pom! Are ye in there?" A neighbor shouted from outside.

"Aye, I'm safe!" Pom replied.

"There's an emergency meeting! A town hall is tae happen at the Commons Chamber in Baaah!" she said, before leaving with her family.

Pom had never been to a meeting before. Every sheep old enough to work is encouraged—if not strongarmed—into participating. 'Democracy is the founding principle of our society!' she once heard someone say, and it has to be true if everyone takes it so seriously. She should go. Just to see what it's like.

She checked the pups' food and water and, with a personalized goodbye to each, promised to be back soon. Pom shut the door and ran after the others, hoping someone there knew the way.

---

The hall was noisy, every sheep in a panic. It was the first time Pom had ever been inside the hall, a tall, ornate building made of brick; the cacophony of noise bounced off the walls and ceiling, only amplifying the chaos and confusion she felt at the situation. She wriggled past the masses of wool until finding a spot where she could see the front.

A loud bleat erupted from the podium. Instantly the entire hall fell silent, all ears listening intently as town elder O'Donaghewe spoke. "My fellow Sheeple, we are gathered here today with terrible news. I'm sure every sheep here has heard, but the predators, long ago sealed away by the Horned Prophet, have begun tae break their containment."

The silence from the crowd was broken by a high-pitched yapping. Pom swiveled in surprise, recognizing Woof's barks from the first one. "Bad puppy," Pom scolded in a whisper, "I told ye to stay home." Several eyes glared at Pom as she did her best to calm the mischievous pup.

The elder continued, surely aware of the noise but not about to acknowledge it. "'tis known that ages ago, when the races of Foenum lived as one, many Sheeple assisted in the war tae seal the predators. The only way tae accomplish this, as spoken by the Prophet, is tae find the Key used to create the seal. If we are tae assist Foenum once again, we would 'ave tae send a champion in search of the Key."

There's light murmuring among the crowd at this.

"The floor is open tae anyone with suggestions on how tae handle this matter."

Nobody spoke up. Nobody moved. Everybody had frozen, not wanting to be the first. Even Woof, reading the room, fell quiet.

Minutes passed like this. Somebody has to speak up, Pom thought. This is important, the lives of all Sheeple depend on this. They aren't going to just leave things like this, right?

What if somebody suggests not doing anything? The predators would eventually reach Baaah, putting everyone in danger. We can't just do nothing.

She didn't want to say it. She really, really didn't want to; if the hall disagreed with her it'd be the most embarrassing moment of her life. And yet, before she could properly process what she had done, the words escaped her lips.

"Oh, but somebody has tae do something!"

---

There's a gasp from the crowd. Pom quickly regrets her actions, trying to slink into the crowd and be forgotten, but every eye in the massive hall is staring at he.

"What a brave little lamb, tae speak her mind in such a crisis!" the elder bleats.

Immediately a voice from the crowd chimes in, "she's right, we must do something! She must be our champion!"

"Wait I—" Pom begins, before being drowned out.

"For a lamb to carry this burden, she must be the most courageous among us!" another voice booms.

It's hopeless to try and speak out against it. The crowd unanimously agrees upon Pom being the meadow's champion. Quickly she's pushed up to the podium, being made truly the spotlight of attention.

"Little lamb, what is your name?" the elder asks.

"Pom..." she says meekly, heart pounding.

"We will assist ye in any way you wish, Pom. Any preparations necessary can and will be complete by tomorrow morning, when ye leave on yer quest."

Pom waves her hooves back and forth in protest. "Nae! I'm not brave! I'm sorry, I shouldn't'a said anything. I cannae be the champion!" she pleads.

"But ye've been chosen by the hall," Elder O'Donaghewe says. "All Sheeple follow the will o' the flock. By speaking up, ye have already proven yeself worthy. The sheepdogs will protect us from the wolves for a time, but ye already know that won't be enough forever. 'tis why you spoke, aye?"

Pom stammers for a moment, trying to form any kind of argument, but knows his words to be true. She hangs her head and slowly nods, to a chorus of cheers from the crowd.

---

A feast is prepared in the champion's honor. Multiple times during the meal Pom speaks up about her fears, that she isn't strong enough for the task, but it's passed off as modesty by whomever hears it. Trying to distract herself Pom notices the sheepdogs, as usual, aren't touching their greens. Several slink off, and out of curiosity, or perhaps just to escape the crowd, Pom follows them.

With Pom trailing behind, the dogs begin digging at the base of a stone wall. After a few moments they unpack a loose bit of dirt and climb under it, sneaking into the garden. Hoping to stop them from tearing anything up Pom quickly gives chase; her body is small enough to fit in the crawlspace, but her spindly legs make it hard to get all the way through. After a couple minutes she makes it to the other side, her snow-white coat dirtied, and makes a startling discovery.

One of the dogs has caught a rabbit. Carrying the poor thing in its teeth, no signs of life from it, it pads to a corner and begins picking away at its flesh. Dogs... Are carnivores? This explains so much, otherwise they would eat the greens that were provided for them, right? Why else would they hunt?

Pom find herself in deep thought trying to rationalize what she's seeing here. Perhaps they need to eat flesh to survive, like we need to breathe air. They probably can't help it any more than we can. But if they're carnivores, and they hunt, that would mean they're... predators...

As the realization hits a chill runs down her spine. They are predators, just like the ones in the tales. The very things that prey upon her kind! All this worry about the predators returning, but they've been right under our noses!

A panic takes hold and Pom runs out from under the crawlspace. She rushes towards the open fields outside of town. You must get away! her mind races. These beasts are out to get us all! They're-

Not looking ahead Pom bumps into a large pile of fur. She looks up to see the alpha of the sheepdogs, Big Papa, staring intently at her. A tan-furred dog nearly three time her size, Papa leans in to sniff Pom and she closes her eyes, bracing for the inevitable gnashing of teeth.

But none comes. Big Papa licks her face, much like a dog would do to greet anyone else, and lets out a friendly bark. With that he trots off into the fields, looking behind once and wagging his tail.
He doesn't try to eat her...

Pom cautiously follows Big Papa, at this point with no idea what to expect. Upon catching up he looks at her and lets out a stiff but friendly bark. He then turns towards the field, stretches his neck, and begins to let out a howl. His cry is joined by those of his brethren and, not sure why herself, Pom echoes his actions with a meek bark.

Several rabbits and mice flee from the field at the noise, some with plants in their mouths. They've been eating the crops! And the dogs have been protecting the crops by hunting the rabbits! They've been making sure the Sheeple have a good harvest, doing their jobs, while also feeding themselves.

Why don't the other sheep seem to know this? Since she was old enough to pitch in Pom has been giving them greens, and it's just been going to waste. If the Sheeple knew, there'd be far less spoilage.

"Oh, you're a good lad," Pom says, petting Big Papa. If she's lived with such good predators all her life, the ones that have been sealed away might not be so bad themselves. Maybe she can talk them down, find peace.

She can hope.

---

With that, and with a quick stop to wipe off the dirt, Pom treks back to the feast, Big Papa following close behind. Very close behind. Almost a little uncomfortable, given the sudden revelation.

"Pom, lass! I've not seen you in a while!" O'Donaghewe chimes as she returns. "Where've ye gone?"

"S-Sorry, I just needed a walk, ran into Papa on the way." Pom says. She wants to bring up the carnivore discovery but suddenly nerves kick in. Two shakeups is too many for this town in one day.

"Aye, Big Papa seems tae have taken fancy tae ye." the elder says. "The size of him, eh? Once ended a trade dispute with the deer just by bringing him along, they took one look at 'im and buggered off."

"Ye don't say."

"I do. Didn't even ha'e tae use the monologue I had prepared!" He chuckles. "Anyway, how're ye enjoying the feast?"

Not wanting to reveal how long she'd been gone Pom just says "Oh it's, it's very nice, elder."

"Thought so," he chuckles, patting his thick wool coat. He's well-respected by all of Foenum. In his youth he probably would've made a much better champion than Pom, or so she thinks.

A few moments pass. "Elder, I—" Pom begins, hoping to let out her grievances, when he shoves a piece of food in her face.

"Great innit?" he beams. "Get as much as ye can, it'll be the last you see such abundance for a while."

Her nerve shriveling into dust at the slightest resistance, Pom thanks the elder, takes the food and sits. Big Papa continues to loom from behind for the rest of the night.

The feast begins to die down after an hour or so. Stuffed, and feeling no less worried about her sudden conscription, Pom trots off as soon as it seems like she can get away with it without being rude. Returning home the four pups all greet Pom, and she prepares for bed. That's when the elder visits, tapping on her door. The pups go wild as he enters, as they always do. He puts on a smile as he greets them, but beneath it his expression is grim.

"Pom, lass, I need tae speak with ye about the feast," he says seriously. "I ken ye were nervous about it."

"Och, the feast was fine. It was very nice that you all did that! But..."

"Say it, lass."

"I cannae be our champion! I've not any skills besides herding, no strengths, and the last thing I desire is a brawl. Why a wee gal like me, elder?"

"Pom, it's the will o' the flock. Ye know how our people are, ye were CHOSEN. And ye were chosen for a reason."

"No, no! If I'd not opened my mouth nobody would be saying that!"

"But ye did, and that's why you're the right choice. The will o' the flock... Well, it's a complicated thing. But it's definitely there, and it rarely steers us wrong. Trust me."

Pom steps outside and begins pacing. "I am unqualified for this task! How can I lead anyone? And against such fierce creatures? Elder, I'm not brave like our sheep-leaders of old!"

"Nonsense, girl," he grins from the doorway, "I've lived a long time and I know who we are. The Sheeple 'ave never had the strength and courage of cattlekind, the wanderlust of the Goatani, or the perseverance of the Alpake. The only traits we ever had were wool to sell, the patience to sell it, and a taste for grass. We are sheep. Simple, mercantile sheep."

"No, we're not! That cannae be all we are at all."

"But it is, lass. We're born a certain way, and we're playin' the cards we've been dealt. Then there's you, Pom. Ye think ye're not brave, because ye've not been put in a position tae draw it out. But that spark is there and the flock saw it. They know yer champion material, and I know it, even if you don't."

The old ram puts a hoof on Pom's shoulder. She begins to protest, but falls silent at his gaze. Looking away, she murmurs, "What... What if I fail?"

"Then ye fail. But failure doesn't mean death, it just means there's more tryin' tae be done. Let the flock down and keep on tryin'. Ye got yer dogs to help you, remember."

Pom's eyes widen, realizing a new danger. "Elder, what if something happens tae the pups?"

"Yer gonna have tae protect them, and rise tae the occasion tae do so. Those dogs'll be fine. An' so will you."

Pom hugs the elder, crying a bit. "I'm so scared..." she whimpers.

"We all are right now. Don't let yer fear stop ye from doin' what needs tae be done." He ruffles her fur, calming her down a bit.

---

The elder leaves Pom be for the night, and she tries her best to sleep. It's an ultimately failed effort; no matter how she tries, her mind wanders to visions of horrific beasts surrounding her and her pups, ready to close in for the kill. Despite how much she tries to shake the visions of horror in her mind, the nightmares just don't stop coming. Vile, alien creatures that want nothing more than eat her alive, hordes of beasts with no rhyme or reason to their actions, an army of them marching out of their prison to Baaah, tearing through the flock like tissue. All of these plague Pom's slumber and fill it with dread.

Pom awakens, shaking and whimpering, to the blunt force of Ruff and Tuft jumping on her and the sun peeking from the mountains. Doing her best to shake off her grogginess, Pom instinctively fills their food bowls with produce, before remembering her discovery of their actual diet and stopping. They run off, probably to hunt or to get food from other dogs who've already hunted. Pom shakes her head, does her best to smile and exits.

She steps out into the early morning light, only to immediately bump into Big Papa, Big Mama right beside him. Pom jumps back startled; Mama's almost as large as Papa, the two of them overwhelming together.

"Papa, what's gotten into ye these days?" Pom asks, though he stands there in silence. He's a dog, of course, he's not going to reply.

As Pom performs her morning duties for possibly the last time, the pair of dogs refuse to let her leave their sight, following her to every destination. Continually other sheep approach Pom to wish her a farewell; some of them sound like they don't expect to see her ever again.

It's a depressing way to spend her last morning, but soon enough it's time to go. Pom calls her dogs from afar and heads to the gates for the last time. The elder is waiting for her, a large amount of supplies contained in saddlebags beside him.

"That's, a lot to carry, elder..." Pom says. "My pups and I aren't strong enough tae take all this."

"Nae, but they are," O'Donaghewe smiles, gesturing to the two large dogs that have been following.

"Wait but ye don't mean—"

"Aye, they're coming with ye. Ye didn't notice the liking Papa took tae ye?"

Pom shakes her head. "They're the best defense Baaah would 'ave against the predators, they need tae be here!"

"They are the best defense against the predators. That's why they need tae come with ye, and protect ye."
Big Mama barks in agreement.

Pom feels a small panic at having to take care of them. "I cannae even keep my own pups in line all the time, this is too much. I quit, ye need to find another champion, I—"

But Papa and Mama are already saddled, and the gate begins closing behind her.

"Wait! I've changed my mind! I'm not ready for this!" Pom shouts.

"You never will be 'til you do it, lass," O'Donaghewe says. "We'll see each other again, I'm sure of it."

Pom missed her chance to get back in. The gate is sealed shut, and the elder trots away with one last comment:
"Take care of 'em, won't ye?"

The old ram disappears from view, and she's alone with the dogs, no way back in.

---

A tiny part of Pom believed that this would all turn out to be a dream, that she would wake up in her bed with no worries, no threat of the predators, a return to the peace she was used to. And while that idea was mostly crushed when she woke up this morning, any shred of hope vanished at this moment.

"Oh... Oh no... This is bad... Oh..." Pom says to herself, repeatedly. She begins hyperventilating, and her chest grows tight.

It would be difficult for Pom to even describe how she's feeling, except that it feels horrible. Like something is trying to crush her from all directions, to the point that she struggles to stand tall despite best efforts.

"I can't... I cannae..."

Pom feels a sob well up from within, and lets it out as a whimper. She grabs her puppies and bury her face in their fur.

"I can't do this... I wanna go home..."

Tears stream down her face as she whines and whimpers. The pups look on with an expression of sympathy, but they can't do anything to help.

Suddenly Pom is jolted upright by the boom of Big Papa's bark. She looks at him, and he gestures away from the town. Beyond Baaah is a beautiful valley path, mountains on both sides, wild flowers blooming all around. It's a path she recognizes. It's one that leads to hr favorite grazing spot, a lovely patch of grass by a small spring where the water plants grow.

It would make a lovely sight, if she wasn't feeling so miserable.

Pom stares into the horizon for a bit. Suddenly Woof starts pushing against her back hoof, urging her to move. The other pups seem just as interested.

Pom tries swallowing her tears and, one hoof at a time, takes the first steps on this journey.

Comments

[dziadek1990]

Enjoyable.

[AllenVth]

Despite being scared out of her life. Pom will try her best, and with Ma and Pa and her little pups, she will be able to push through.

Pa and Ma like her because Pom knows their secret but didn't tell the rest of the herd, or ran away screaming (which she almost did)

[saum22]

The use of the present tense is offputting, but compromisable for the idea of another chapter for TFH.

[Galgus]

Just starting this late, I love O'Donaghewe's characters and reassurance.

It feels pretty compressed to have Pom discover the truth about the dog's diet on the same day, but I think it works with the news that the predators are returning.

I was very curious on how you'd portray the dogs, since the enemy predators in the story are intelligent and capable of speech. So far it seems like the dogs cannot speak, but that they might be as intelligent as the sheeple: simply loyal and content with the synergistic relationship.

Big Papa coming to reassure Pom in his own way was nice.

It may take me awhile to get through it all, but loving it so far.