Diagnosed with a developmental disorder at a young age, Duskelle Waterlee has always been special - but not necessarily in a good way. Even at the age of fourteen, she is still unable to truly grasp human ways of life.
Her only relief is River, a st...
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Duskelle scarfed down the disgusting, mushy paste. Even though it was horrible, Duskelle had to eat it. Otherwise, the female creature, who insisted that she was to be called something along the lines of, "Mum," would stand by her and give her the stoic and stubborn look she always took on when Duskelle tried to make her understand that she didn't want to do something, and then she wouldn't let Duskelle leave until she'd done what the creature wanted her to do.
She finished and stood awkwardly on her hind legs, pushing away the hollowed out semi-circle of rock that held the stuff. The female creature looked up from her own food, and stared at her for a moment before she looked away again, as if she couldn't bear to keep her eyes on Duskelle. The male creature, "Dad," didn't give her a second glance as she went off to look for River. River was her only friend, her only comfort. She was the only one whose words Duskelle could understand.
Duskelle headed over to the barn house, where River always lounged in the morning. The sunlight shone warmly upon her pelt and as she fell forward onto all fours, the position in which she was most comfortable. The soft grass, moist from yesterday's rain and the dawn's dew, bent under her paws. A smile spread across her face. The trees still held droplets of water and the occasional cloud could be seen in the sky, but otherwise, it was a wonderful day.
As she entered the musty wooden dwelling, she opened her mouth to try and catch River's scent. She always smelled like fresh grass and hay. Right now, that scent was coming from the corner. Duskelle padded around a bale of dried yellow strands, and sure enough, a gray tabby was curled up on a stack of hay.
"River!" she squealed, padding forwards towards her.
River grumpily raised her head, opening her unnaturally green-and-blue mottled eyes wide before she slitted them until Duskelle could see nothing but green. She sighed before she began to speak. "Do let me get some sleep for once, Duskelle. You're always waking too early."
She rose to her paws and she stretched luxuriously, muscles visibly rippling under her sleek gray fur.
"It's not me," Duskelle responded as she settled next to the she-cat. "It's the creatures. They always have to wake me up bright and early in the morning."
River lazily turned her head to face Duskelle. "Well, whatever the reason, now I can't go back to sleep." the she-cat declared. She began to pad forwards, towards the entrance to the barn.
Duskelle frowned, rising from her sitting position. "River? Where are you going?" she called out behind her feline companion.
"Out!" came the response, and Duskelle stared after River as she slipped around a bale of hay.
"But, River-" Duskelle began to say, but she cut herself off, sighing, realizing the attempt to be useless. River was already gone. She began to make her way towards the entrance to the barn, irritation prickling her thoughts. This was happening more and more often. River kept seeming to be tired of her company.
Duskelle stopped at the entrance to the barn and scanned the area around her for a glimpse of River. And, just as she had guessed, there was no sight of the female tabby. She let out a deep breath before she turned and began to make her way towards the creatures' den.
After all, there was nowhere else for her to go.
If anybody was wondering, the mushy paste mentioned in the beginning is oatmeal. :)
