Wander

The koala had traveled far to reach it, but at last, the tall spires of Jamma township came into view. He recognized the buildings and the noise of jammers trading their wares. He slowly merged into the crowd, often being shoved out of the way. A dancing arctic wolf nearly bumped into him. He backpedaled, almost crashing into a rabbit.

“Hey! Watch it!” she called.

He wiped the sweat off his brows. He had traveled, night after night, to reach the inn.

The journey wasn’t over yet, as he still had to meet his family in the deep forest. But it was still inviting to find Jamma after hiking over distant lands. He found the inn, and upon finding it he entered the lobby, booked his room, and settled in.

Setting his pack on the thin bedsheets, Quiver was finally able to relax. He laid down and slept for about an hour only to be startled by a loud noise. He twitched his large ears, which were customary to koalas. Quiver then opened the door slowly and creeped downstairs. On the bottom floor, next t the library, was a small cook-shop that he hadn’t noticed before.

“My soup!” called the small wolf at the counter. “What are you doing`”

Quiver rubbed his eyes to find a rhino knocking over the pots and pans of the kitchen. A lot of damage had already been done. The lobby appeared to be the scene of a food fight. A broken pastry sat at the edge of the stairwell. Apples were everywhere on the floor. The rhinoceros knocked over another basket of fresh fruits. Steaming chicken soup sat in a pile on the floor.

Glop.

“How did the mashed potatoes get ON THE CEILING?” Quiver pondered.

“Out of here!” cried a booming voice. “Now!”

The rhino peered upward to see an adult wolf seated in the loft. Grunting, it walked off in a moment of confusion. The rhino busted through the old door. Quiver heard his stomps growing farther and quieter. At last, he was gone. The wolf leaped down from the loft, comforting his daughter.

“But I worked so hard on the tarts- Oh, and my soup...” she started.

“We’ll just have to clean up tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll start a new batch of the pastries. And we have more chicken in the icebox.”

She was only disappointed for a while. They started to sweep up, when the father noticed the koala on the stairs. Without saying a word, Quiver went back upstairs. The wolf squinted at Quiver, watching him leave. Quiver slid back in his room, this time taking a more solid sleep on the bed. It was about midnight now, and the jammers were starting to clear from the township. His eyes narrowed and he fell into a deeper sleep….

The small wolf from the kitchen appeared to him, her back turned. She side-eyed Quiver and muttered:

“I’m here. You found me.”

Quiver curiously glanced at his surroundings. They were blank, in a deep rich black. In the distance, he could see a glimmer of purplish light.

“I must be dreaming.” He thought.

Almost as if she had been reading his thoughts, she responded.

“You aren’t dreaming, Quiver. This is more real than one might think.”

Quiver heard a crackling noise, like the snapping of twigs. He slowly turned his head. He made out the outline of a few jammers. They were silhouettes, of which he had only heard rumors of. They had no nametags, but only stood there menacingly. The wolf bowed her head in dismay.

“You’re too late.” She called.

There came a long pause. Quiver knew not what to say, and if he had, he wouldn’t have said it.

She turned her face toward him.

“Will you save us?” she asked quietly in a monotone voice.

“What do you mean? Quiver asked. “How?”

The wolf only half smirked. “I knew you would.” Was her reply.

Sudden images flashed before his eyes: His family tree house, rotting into dust, was found deserted. His mother and father were taken prisoner, his younger sister only black.

His thoughts flashed back to the wolf. She stood there, a mildly curious expression on her face.

“You have nothing to return to.”

Quiver’s eyes opened. It was early morning. He sat there, thinking over his vision. He peeked out the window. His eyes widened at the sight of the silhouette jammers from his dream. The familiar houses and stores were now only chunks of code. And they- they who had been affected, covered every street, moaning and chanting.

His door creaked open. The wolf stood in his doorway.

“I presume you know.” She spoke.

Without saying anything more, she handed him a pack filled with supplies.

“We have not a moment to lose. And my name is Sheaf, by the way.” She noted.

Sheaf went ahead of Quiver and padded quickly down the stairwell. Quiver heard an alarming cry.

“Father!”

Quiver walked down the stairwell to find the adult wolf clutching his side.

“They…got… me.” He breathed.

Sheath knelt by her father, waiting to see what could become of him.

“Go.” He panted. “They are waiting for him.”

His tail grew darker and darker, until it was a matte black. Sheath peered at him despondently, watching him slowly turn dark. Sheath turned her head to meet Quiver’s eyes.