Earth Bond fanfic - Blood and Teeth
Posted: Wed Mar 28, 2012 8:51 pm
A very short and rather silly idea based on the thought of what would happen if the one part of the US Military that can simply ignore dragon magic, tried to go and find one. It doesn't go well.
Blood and Teeth
Eddie’s flukes and tale ached. His lungs burned. He sang distress and loss along with the remainder of his pod, but he kept swimming. Far ahead he could hear the harsh call of a singing silence promising safety and rest. So he swam on. Not only because of the promise of rest, but because stopping or slowing down came with the promise of blood and teeth.
The pod thought and reacted as one, not daring to turn, not daring to dive or ascend, not daring to surface to breath. Blood and teeth followed them. Blood and teeth hunted them. But blood and teeth also was following them into the maw of the singing silence.
Eddie and his pod had played around a singing silence many times. They quickly learned to keep away from its flukes and its snout. Games had been played endlessly around the wave-maker sized hole in the world. Then the split tales had promised them the opportunity to see it hunt a wave maker.
Not quite understanding the split tales, Eddie had still gamely followed them to a still and strangely quiet wave maker and they had swam around playing a long game of tag. Then they had gone back. Eddie had almost forgotten about the promise of a hunt when the silence began to sing.
The song was harsh, as always, but this was also momentarily chaotic, before settling down to a single steady chorus. Then there was a strange sound, and the split tales took them back to the wave-maker. Only now the wave maker was very, very dead. Somehow, without having moved from where it had floated the entire time, the singing silence had bitten a chunk out of the wave-maker many times larger than Eddie’s own body. Large enough to almost bite the wave-maker in two.
Eddie had stayed clear and listened as the world rushed in to suck the wave-maker down. He hadn’t understood what this particular wave maker had done to anger the split-tails, but they had promised a hunt, and though Eddie didn’t understand what had happened, he did understand that a hunt had taken place. And he at long last understood what the singing silence ate.
Anything it damn well wanted to.
Somewhere within Eddie’s brain, in the place where he not only heard the world but felt himself, a tiny shred of a forgotten instinct, fragmented by time and water, asserted itself, and Eddie’s inner mind remembered ghost muscles raising an upper lip to bare teeth, and Eddie snarled.
What was hunting them was dead!
Blood and Teeth
Eddie’s flukes and tale ached. His lungs burned. He sang distress and loss along with the remainder of his pod, but he kept swimming. Far ahead he could hear the harsh call of a singing silence promising safety and rest. So he swam on. Not only because of the promise of rest, but because stopping or slowing down came with the promise of blood and teeth.
The pod thought and reacted as one, not daring to turn, not daring to dive or ascend, not daring to surface to breath. Blood and teeth followed them. Blood and teeth hunted them. But blood and teeth also was following them into the maw of the singing silence.
Eddie and his pod had played around a singing silence many times. They quickly learned to keep away from its flukes and its snout. Games had been played endlessly around the wave-maker sized hole in the world. Then the split tales had promised them the opportunity to see it hunt a wave maker.
Not quite understanding the split tales, Eddie had still gamely followed them to a still and strangely quiet wave maker and they had swam around playing a long game of tag. Then they had gone back. Eddie had almost forgotten about the promise of a hunt when the silence began to sing.
The song was harsh, as always, but this was also momentarily chaotic, before settling down to a single steady chorus. Then there was a strange sound, and the split tales took them back to the wave-maker. Only now the wave maker was very, very dead. Somehow, without having moved from where it had floated the entire time, the singing silence had bitten a chunk out of the wave-maker many times larger than Eddie’s own body. Large enough to almost bite the wave-maker in two.
Eddie had stayed clear and listened as the world rushed in to suck the wave-maker down. He hadn’t understood what this particular wave maker had done to anger the split-tails, but they had promised a hunt, and though Eddie didn’t understand what had happened, he did understand that a hunt had taken place. And he at long last understood what the singing silence ate.
Anything it damn well wanted to.
Somewhere within Eddie’s brain, in the place where he not only heard the world but felt himself, a tiny shred of a forgotten instinct, fragmented by time and water, asserted itself, and Eddie’s inner mind remembered ghost muscles raising an upper lip to bare teeth, and Eddie snarled.
What was hunting them was dead!
