Dearest Boris,
It's been about a week since I left the village on my own accord. Apparently, my intricate research on mutants was not held to a high standard. In fact it was severely frowned upon and almost led to handcuffs, which I was able to narrowly avoid. I was able to snag Beatrice and gallop away to this swamp forest where I've been trying to start up a new living space for myself. Perhaps I'm writing to you because I no longer have my lab to keep me busy or perhaps it's because I know you're laying in your bed right now thinking about all the dangerous mishaps that I could be running into now that I'm outside the safety and comfort of my prestigious university. Regardless, I wanted to let you know that I'm doing alright. Stay strong and keep your stand waiting for me.
Your fishing buddy,
Mari.
Maria folds up the rough-textured paper in half and ties it with a rope string. She gently pats Beatrice who was lying quietly in the evening grass. She crawls up on the saddle and even though she's mounted on Beatrice a million times before, it never seemed less tiring for her upper body and right thigh. She tugs on Beatrice's reins, watching as her horse bobs her head up and down, feeling her horse's body curve back and forth underneath the leather saddle as if her horse was a runway model. Her horse's hooves trotted in a gentle way that relaxed her muscles. Noticing how the forest path ahead of her was just a straight dirt path, she allowed herself to close her eyes and smell the fresh air circling around her face, feeling the wind brush gently through her curly hair. Her thoughts wander through the fields that were her neurons towards one memory: Boris reeling in his first fish. The grip the fish's mouth had on the hook caused Boris to have to play tug of war with the fish where he won. The fish launched out of the water, the light from the sun reflecting off its scales. Boris jumped up to get it with his small hand like he was catching a football from long range. She remembers the smile on his face when he finally caught it in the air and brought the fish to her as if it were a prize he won from a carnival game, and with the wind, her heart swelled. Her lips curved upwards—NEIGHHHH!
As the horses' hooves skid deep into the dry soil, Maria is launched forward, scattering her wandering thoughts, her heart now in her throat and her stomach doing a flip. Her head spun while trying to dismount from a disoriented Beatrice. She looks around the grass and trips over what seemed to be a large furry log. Maria groans and rubs her head, looking for the log that caused her to trip. She squints through the emerging darkness caused by the now darkening sky and begins to see that it wasn't a log but a small furry animal curled up in a wool blanket, fussing and tossing around. Maria takes a closer look at the small animal and sees that it has thick fur from grey to black, this long pointed snout, short pointed ears, and a short bushy tail. She started backing away on her arms until she saw his cute little hazel eyes. She leaned in closer like she was trying to study a mirror. Her nervous hand reached for his head, feeling the soft fur between her fingers and brushing again. Her heart melted. She properly wraps the animal in its wool blanket and carries it in her arms like it was her own, stroking his chin. The small animal starts giggling, revealing its little pointy teeth still coming in. Maria feels her lips curve wide. She mounts up with her newborn on the leather saddle. Beatrice continues strutting along her runway, bouncing the small baby gently enough to where he's lulled to sleep.
———
Maria lifts up her chopped off fingers, blood flowing out of them like they're erupting volcanoes. She could feel every last bit of her life draining from her gong's stumps so she aggressively takes off her black cloak and tears off a bit of its fabric from the bottom. As she wraps her wounded fingers with the black fabric, she takes a quick glance at Timber and his new Maw. Timber was cradling the creature, softly holding up its neck so that it stopped being slack against his thigh and gently stroking its scales underneath the back of its skull. His left arm was tenderly wrapped around its torso, using his fur as a blanket to keep its stomach warm. He takes the somewhat conscious creature's hand and presses it up to his chest. He leans his snout close to its ear, whispering, "I gotcha, Mawmaw." Timber then lays the creature down in the sand so that he can sleep against its chest and his ear can sip more of his favorite drink. Maria watches solemnly from afar, criss-cross applesauce in the sand. Her teeth ground against each other. A pounding vein bounces against her forehead, and her chopped hand does its best to form a fist.
———
Timber lays in bed, his head hanging limp on the right side of his pillow. He hacks out mucus like an old woman with lung disease and feels it run down his mouth and nose. He wipes it off with the back of his weak hand as if he had finished drinking beer. He grips the mattress when Maria walks in with a bowl of what looked to be a poor attempt at making a soup suitable for canines with all its mushrooms and beetroots. Smiling weakly, she tried bringing the bowl to his lips, but Timber scrunched his face as he moved his snout away. "Tim honey you have to drink it," Maria says in a soft voice. Timber slams his fists against the mattress. "But it's disgusting!" Timber complains, sticking out his tongue while pointing at it with his sharp digit. "Tim please, you'll never get better if you don't and I need you to get better." Maria raises her voice. Timber glanced up frowning at her until he saw the tear forming in her eyes. Slowly yet hesitantly, he sits up and parts his snout. He lets the wooden bowl touch his lips, and the soup enters his mouth bit by bit. "See? That wasn't so bad," Maria chuckles. "Yeah sure," Timber replies, sinking back down into his bed. She starts cleaning up the wooden bowl from the bed, rambling, "Usually that mixture works for foxes, so hopefully it will work for you as well. I might have to run back out if—" She stands over the bed frozen. Timber's chest was rising up and down, his snout was snorting out mucus rhymically, and his ears were twitching. Maria smiles at sleeping Timber, and carefully closes the door behind her.
———
Maria stretched out her weak arm towards her leather sack. She fumbles with the opening of the bag until she can grasp onto the handle of her iron sword and pull it out. Her legs felt like jelly as she got up and walked through the sand towards an exhausted Timber lying up against the creature's chest. She stood over them, the tip of her iron sword dragged through the surface of the sandy ground.....
"That was an excellent catch, Boris!" Boris smiles at Maria softly and walks over to a nearby stump, placing his prize there. Maria looks over Boris' shoulder, her eyebrows curving down her forehead. "And Boris can do the fun part." Boris grins as he grabs the fish by its abdomen. He pulls out a small pocket knife from his overalls and deepens the sharp edge into the fish's supposed neck, letting it slice its head right off. Its guts and slimy blood ooze out. "And now we have dinner," Boris says with glee as he brushes the fish's head off the stump playfully. Maria chuckles at him as she walks over to their campsite to prepare another fire....
Maria tiptoes over to the creature and squats down. Her hand clasps around the sleeping creature's neck. She draws up her sword and carefully moves the sword's soft edge along the base of its neck. As the edge deepens within its scaly skin and slices through, Maria feels her teeth tickling her lips, her heart racing. Guts and lime-green clotted blood spill out across the sand, and her hand starts shaking, causing the sword to no longer cut in a straight line. And then the sword drops, sweat dripping from her palms. She looks at the lonely head whose fading, obsidian eyes started shifting over to her. Maria's heart pounds against her chest with the force of a desperate teenager trying to get the attention of anyone who can free them from the locker they got stuffed in. Timber groans as he shifts his position along the creature's chest. Maria's body jumps. Her malfunctioning hands grab the creature's head and the lime-green, bloody sword, and her legs carry her off into the distance.