Thistles and Scales

The Flooded plains of the south always seemed the most beautiful in the morning light, inleast to Thistle it did. The sparkling morning dew clinging to the vibrant grass made everything wet, sure, but he didn't mind. Infact, he made it a tradition to watch the first rays of sunlight fall on the land, his land. He’d sit on top of his hill and watch as the sun’s fresh light hit the water and wet grass, coating the land in cascading beams of light and causing everything to sparkle like gemstones. It always filled his heart and eyes with wonder and joy that he couldn’t explain.

    So where was the light today?

    Eventually, there had to be a day where the sun wasn’t there. Where Thistle would climb his hill only to see nothing but the flooded lands of his home. The esk raised his head towards the sky, his bristling fur puffing up in anger. Why did the sky have to cover up his sun!? He hadn’t done anything! He reached his thoughts out and tried to scream at the clouds to move, to let him have this one thing, but alas, he could find no mind to connect to. All Thistle could do was deal with it. 

    With a huff, Thistle sat down and flicked the base of his cropped tail in frustration. His day was officially ruined by the simple fact that his routine had been disrupted. He wasn’t even sure he would continue his life till the sun came out. 

    “Not that I could” he grumbled to himself. 

It had been but a few days since he had been shifted into this unappealing form, and he loathed it. He wished he could have gone back and gotten himself out of that stupid net by instead of being ‘helped’ by his creator. His brown fur bristled at the thought of the bigger esk who watched over the flooded grasslands. What made them so great as to think they have the authority to change lives. He was perfectly fine the way he was, even if he was fearing for his life. 

    “I could have made it out by myself!” he yowled in his head, “ I could be eating wheat seeds and berries right now, like I used to! I could be sleeping like I used to! As he spat his words of hatred, he spun on his heels, prepared to stare down his cursed creator. The esk who had done this to him said, “And now I can’t because of you!!!”. He stopped, facing what he wished was his creator, but he only came face to face with a rock. The very rock he usually watched the sunrise with.

…

    The esk internally signed, lowering their head in defeat. There was nothing they could do. Admitting his defeat, Thistle lifted himself back to his paws, his spirit full of embarrassment. He hoped no one had seen him, then again, he didn’t care what his creator thought, and as far as he knew, the two of them were the only esk. Thistle growled in frustration and stepped up onto the large, flat rock he had yelled at just moments prior. He then laid down, pulling his tail close to his body with his paws and lowering his head till it touched the cool gray surface of the stone. 

    He hated this place. Hated it even more than he did his esk status, and while a big part of him wanted to leave, to abandon this place he used to call his home, a bigger part of him feared what would happen if he did leave. The rest of the grasslands felt unwelcoming and scary, unlike his familiar hill. That’s not to mention the thought of what lies beyond the plains. 

    The dark brown esk raised his head and looked over at the forest he could see just past the flooded plains. When he was alive, he was content with living only on the hill since it appeared huge back then, but now…It seemed so small in comparison..

    A sudden rustle startled Thistle, yanking him from his thoughts and back into reality. He twirled his head around, the fluff on his head lagging behind, having barely enough time to catch up before he turned his head once more. 

    “Who’s there?” he asked, trying to reach out his thoughts towards whatever was out there. A small part of him expected him to hear his creator, to which he was already making up his insults, while the rest of him expected some critter. Instead, he heard a reply from a voice much different from his creator.

    “Hello!” the voice boomed. They sounded loud, yet distant, as if they were shouting from far away. Then he heard the rustling once more, but this time, he pinpointed it. From the forest treeline, he spotted a large creature emerging from among the trees, it;s body long enough that it could reach the lower of the big branches. Their body was dark gray, with long legs and a long neck. Their head and neck were a gradient of greens and yellow, and their long yellow tail trailed behind them. If it wasn’t for their dark body, he wouldn’t have been able to discern them from the leaves around him. 

    The creature locked eyes with him, their gaze odd but not unwelcoming, like looking into the eyes of a fish. The look reminded him of himself even, with its dark eyes and sliver of color. Surprised, Thistle instinctively stepped back, but the creature didn’t notice his nervous behavior as it began walking forward. Instead of going around and walking the man-made path however, the creature stepped right into the water and began swimming. 

    As the creature slipped into the water, faint shapes of leaves seemed to fade in till being fully opaque once the creature was completely surrounded by water. That’s when it sank in. This wasn’t some creature, this was another esk. With this realization however, Thistle didn’t feel any less scared. He only knew of one other esk, his creator, and he didn’t quite like that esk. When he turned his attention back to the other esk, he froze. The large, dark esk, was a few feet in front of him, their fur dripping with water and golden leaves were nowhere in sight. The large figure craned its long neck down so that they were face to face. 

    Thistle’s fear and tension build up around him. Had they been the one to speak, or where they were just messing with him. His old self would have run the second they had the chance, but not now. He was too angry, too fed up with everything to run. 

    He puffed up his chest and tilted his head back ever so slightly to appear bigger than he was before he spoke. “Who are you?!” 

    Thistle didn’t expect the creature to speak. He was sure the esk would ignore him or just dismiss him as some small, insignificant thing. However, the esk did speak, their voice sounding as if they were smiling.  

    “Hi! I’m Finnick! What’s your name! ” The esk said, their voice loud and welcoming, like the beaming summer sun, which caught Thistle off guard. Their voice didn’t sound anything like he had expected, 

    “H-hello” he muttered, trying not to show his surprise in his voice. He wasn’t sure of what else to say. He hadn’t thought about there being other esk, only about his past life and his creator. And here there was another, and they were…friendly. Much friendlier than he had expected.

    Finnick tilted his head, seemingly confused by Thistle’s silence. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice a bit crushed. 

    Thistle stood to his paws and looked up towards Finnick, his eyes glittering with resolve.

    “I’m fine” he said, his voice much softer than he thought it was capable of being, “My name is Thistle”

    Finnick seemed to smile, his eyes upturning in the corners as if he were wearing a big grin. 

   “Hello Thistle!” Finnick purred, his voice full of joy. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

   The way the bigger esk spoke felt like water brushing over his bristling fur, smoothing out all his anger. His faint aura of joy his words gave off making the sun’s disappearance feel much smaller than it did just a few minutes ago. 

Thistle couldn’t help but try and match Finnick’s ‘smile’ ,”It’s nice to meet you too”