I had closed my eyes behind a throbbing in my temple (that wasn’t really there, okay yeah I was being dramatic, sue me) while I lay and the ground and waited for her to finally appear. I could already feel Cheek coming close, winging his way toward my location, a blue-tailed beacon for the earthy duo to follow—at least, he was blue-tailed until he zpsnk!ed in mid-air right above me, morphing into a black and white furry mass that ended up being so much heavier than I anticipated dropping on my stomach like that. Hrrng. But he was grinning and I was still lying in the dirt/mud, and I could feel and smell her coming close and I was already growling as she was making her way into earshot.
“Fuck you,” I blurted, opening my eyes to holy shit that is way too goddamn tall to be allowed. And I didn’t like her for it. Another reason checked off the list. I hated the way she looked down on me all the time, appraising, judging, and I didn’t care that she had a legitimate reason to do so cuz people can’t usually help that sorta thing.
But she wasn’t a usual person. She was made-to-order, wasn’t she, assembled and rolled off the line all ready to go for humanity to fuck up. It was easy to imagine her tallness, her fairness, as a statement. Especially when you know the hands behind the machine.
"Why would you think I wanted something?"
I snorted and I was 3/4ths mud at this point and I didn’t miss that fact, that I was the one rolling around on the ground when I should’ve had a firmer grip on shit than I had, but whatever. “You’re still here,” I said, my too-tiny tail doing a flip-thing of agitation from where I watched her with one electric eye, “and the only time y’all stick around is when y’all need shit from me. Otherwise we don’t stick in the same place for long.” I made to get up—I was almost there—but then I huffed back down, because I had just got comfortable and I didn’t really feel like getting up. Not yet.
“See? Still here,” I said with an awkward ground-shrug, “beat that logic, smartass.”
talk
Chico