Not His Flit - Mine

Writers: AL, Vix
Date Posted: 31st December 2008

Characters: Vanea, Neana, Neata
Description: Vanea's firelizard egg hatches.
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 13, day 21 of Turn 4

Neata glanced up from the mending to peer over at her grandmother. The old woman sat upon the large armchair. Her body looked so frail and withered, smothered as it was by the large piece of furniture. Neata sighed and looked back down to the work dress, tightening the stitch. She was stuck once again, babysitting a woman who half the time wasn't sure where she was or what she was doing. It wasn't fair.

She was so focused on her self pity that at first Neata didn't hear the small sound despite the silence in the room. When it did finally register, the girl sat up and glanced over at her grandmother. Neana was still quite fast asleep. So what had she heard?

There it was again, a small scratching or scraping noise. A vermin of some sort? Hopefully not any tunnelsnakes! But would tunnelsnakes make that sound? Neata put aside the dress and stood. When she heard the sound again, she moved in the direction she thought it had come. Three times she adjusted her direction and finally came to the fireplace before which sat the small pot that contained her mother's firelizard egg. Another scraping made her certain.

"It's hatching!" But her mother...she wasn't home yet and Neata couldn't just leave her grandmother, even to get Vanea. She didn't have a firelizard of her own and there was no certainty that anyone would be traversing the halls, allowing her to request their assistance. Perhaps...if her mother wasn't there...

Then things would be even more miserable, of that Neata was certain. While she wanted a firelizard, her mother was barely bearable as it was. Neata hadn't made her escape quite yet and she didn't want to make things more difficult until she could. With a heavy sigh, the girl hurried to the door. She was in luck, a young man was making his way through the halls. She sent him to Vanea with a message that the egg was indeed hatching and to hurry. Of course, one could always hope the headwoman didn't make it in time. After all, she had tried her best to let her know. It wouldn't be her fault if the woman was too slow.

~ ~ ~

When the man entered the kitchen looking for her, Vanea waved him off, telling him to wait, and returned her attention to the stew ? the stew that had some missing ingredient and did not quite taste right. She made a suggestion to the cook of which spice to add, but nothing happened, no one moved to follow her direction. Vanea turned to find out why.

There was the young man, staring at her, waiting ? and the kitchen crew standing with him, watching her. "What's everyone doing?" she asked irritably. "Get to work."

"But ... but Headwoman," the cook protested. "He said that your flit is hatching."

"And supper is going to be late if we don't get to work," Vanea snapped in return.

A younger woman ran up to her, skidding to a stop and holding up a bowl. "Meat! They say to give them fresh meat!"

Vanea glanced down at the bowl. "But that was for ..."

"Please, Headwoman," the young man insisted. "Please come! It's not every day that someone has a chance at a flit egg."

"We'll take care of supper," the head cook insisted. "Really, we will. Just go!"

The Headwoman looked from one to the other of the kitchen workers, all with hopeful expressions. She sighed and took the bowl from the woman before her. "Fine. I'll be back when this is done." She stalked off in the direction of her rooms, still annoyed at being taken from her work.

The egg had several fine cracks by the time Vanea arrived at their quarters. Neata managed to hide her disappointment in her mother's appearance quite well. Instead, the excitement over the impending hatching bubbled up, effectively masking any other emotions that might have popped to the surface. "You got the message! Hurry, it's already got cracks!"

"I have meat," Vanea told her daughter, her attention already on the egg, now resting in the sand that had been dumped on the hearthstones. She set the bowl beside her on the floor as she eased herself down to sit beside the fireplace.

"I want supper," Neana announced, awaking from her nap.

"Soon, Mother," the Headwoman told her. "We're busy now." She leaned closer as the egg rocked, the cracks in it spreading but the shell still remaining intact.

"What colour do you think it will be?" Neata's question came as a whisper, as if she were afraid of scaring the little creature. "Maybe a gold?"

"Certainly not," was Vanea's reply. "Rahona told me that for some reason ? something about the male that her gold mated ? the eggs would probably hatch brown, green, or blue. And that's fine ? whatever would I do with a gold?" She turned as the egg rocked, a small chunk of shell falling to the hearth.

"I really am hungry," Neana told them with a pout.

"Neata, could you see to your grandmother?" The Headwoman's attention was completely on the egg, the question thrown absently at her daughter.

"It's not dinner time yet." Neata turned to her grand mother, shooting her a silent command to be silent. "Not for another candlemark or so."

A claw found its way through the hole in the shell and scrabbled ineffectively at the edge before dislodging another section of shell, this a bigger one. "It's almost through."

"Just a snack?" begged Neana.

"Neata, get her a snack." Vanea took a chunk of meat and leaned closer, poised to feed the hatchling whenever it made its appearance.

The girl jumped to her feet and hurried over to the drawer where she often kept crackers and such. It had been a while since she had checked it, however, and she was afraid there wouldn't be any left. Neata was in luck, though, there were two left wrapped in a cloth. She snatched them up and thrust them at her grandmother before going back to the hatching egg. "How much longer?"

"Not much longer." The Headwoman had watched still another flake of the shell fall. Now, however, the egg gave one final rock and cracked loudly, the shell splitting to reveal a damp creature, curled into a ball, with only a claw extended.

"It's not much to look at," Neana remarked from her chair, her words partially muffled by the cracker crumbs in her mouth.

"Not really," agreed Vanea, as the creature lifted its head and glanced about with a loud cry. "Oh ? food!" She offered the chunk of meat that she held, pulling back quickly as the hungry hatchling grabbed it.

Neata crept forward, almost hopeful that even though she wasn't feeding the little lizard that maybe, just maybe he'd be willing to come to her instead. Of course, that wouldn't happen. The way to a firelizard's heart is through his stomach, and Vanea was certainly winning the little brown's.

The creeling of the firelizard as it begged for another piece of meat caught the attention of Neana. "That's an awful big crawler," the old woman observed. "Just give it a good swat and get rid of it."

"It's not a crawler, Mother," Vanea told her as she offered another morsel. "It's a flit ? a fire lizard."

"Your father had one of those," Neana said.

"What?" The Headwoman turned to look at her mother and received a nip on her finger to bring her back to the task at hand: feeding the hungry hatchling.

Neata leaned back on her heels as she watched the little brown. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she get one too? "Come on Grandma," Now that there was no chance of her even _possibly_ impressing the brown, she might as well take care of her grandmother's desire, "Let's get you something to eat."

"Is that Vanton's flit?" Neana leaned closer to the hearth, almost falling from her rocking chair. "It is, isn't it?" She looked around wildly. "Where's Vanton? I haven't seen him for a long while but if Tone is here, he can't be far away."

"It's not Father's flit, Mother," Vanea explained patiently, trying to remain calm for the sake of the hatchling. "It's mine."

"It _is_ his," the woman insisted. "I'd know Tone anywhere."

"It's not Tone, Grandma." Neata soothed. She cast a glance over at her mother then added hastily, "It's Tone's grandbaby, Grandma, that's why he looks like Tone, only smaller."

Neana shook her head. "His name is Tone."

"Alright," said Vanea, gently stroking the muzzle of the now-sated fire lizard, "his name is Tone." She picked up the hatchling and gently rose to her feet. "Would you like to hold him, Mother?"

The older woman blinked and sat back in her chair. "Tone likes to be rocked while he sleeps."

"Then you can rock him while we finish making supper," her daughter told her. She eased the tiny hatchling into the old woman's lap.

Neata flopped upon the floor at her grandmother's feet. Even if she didn't get to impress, at least she would have the chance to spend some time with the tiny creature. "We'll take good care of him," She assured her mother.

"Your grandmother can take care of Tone." Vanea told her. "You can go to the kitchen and grab dinner for all of us while I clean up this mess." She nodded toward the sand upon the hearth stones.

"I thought dinner wasn't ready yet." Neata muttered, though she stood back up and headed for the doorway. She supposed she was glad she didn't have to clean up the mess, but she was still irritated that she couldn't have a firelizard. It wasn't fair, not one bit.

Last updated on the January 1st 2009

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Not His Flit - Mine