Prompt 1

Solace counted sheep.

One, two, three…

She was wide awake. One was still missing.

The grem surveyed her borrowed field solemnly, a blank face masking the worry that was rising underneath. It was dusk; the setting sun lit the rolling hills with dusty orange light, each sheep catching the light like a soft land-bound cloud. But yes, there was definitely one missing. Only six little clouds dotted the landscape. 

Solace rolled up the sleeves on her simple off-white sweater and tried to work through her options. Most likely it had gotten out through the weakened fence on the edge of the field. She had told that old landowner that it needed to be fixed, but she really should have just done it herself. She owed him, anyways — he was letting her graze her flock for almost free. Kicking herself, she started to stride down the slope to gather everyone up to be penned for the night. The grass swished as it parted around her. It was spring, so most of the grass was long and green after the thunderstorms that had rolled through over the past month. Her sheep were doing a steady job of trimming it, but they were small in number, so there was still a lot of untouched pasture. 

She slowly wandered around and started to gently herd the sheep together. She was saving up for a dog that she could train to herd, but couldn’t afford it yet. Too bad her day job didn’t pay better. She didn’t mind so much that owning the flock wasn’t dumping gold in her lap; it was just a hobby, anyways. She affectionately patted the flank of a nearby sheep and nudged it closer in with its friends. The missing sheep stuck like a thorn in the back of her mind, but she tried to ignore it for the time being. No point in fussing until she could do something about it. Had to prioritize. 

She tucked the sheep safely into the small pen and locked it firmly. A quick trip into her tiny house later, she was armed and ready for a hunt: flashlight, knife, flare, first-aid kit, rope, and a bundle of grapes, all rattling around the bottom of a large backpack. Hopefully the poor thing hadn’t gotten into any trouble, but one could never be too careful. Solace set off down the road, her walking stick in hand as an extra precaution. It would do better as a weapon to keep animals back than her knife would. She hadn’t had to use it, yet, but she had practiced exercises with it plenty. It was hand-carved by her last family member and weighted well. She kept a firm hold on it and set off toward the broken fence.

Yep, there was wool tangled in one of the barbs. Solace muttered a curse under her breath and stepped carefully over the drooping wires. Nothing to do now but wander and call. 

“Nimbus!” She yelled, hoping that the lone sheep could hear her over the wind that was starting to rustle through the underbrush with increasing urgency. Storm clouds were slowly gathering on the horizon, a big gray cat biding its time before the pounce. “Nimbus! Treats!” Solace took out a grape and bit lightly into it. Crisp sweetness touched her tongue, and she waved the half-eaten grape in the air, as if the flavor could transfer to the surrounding area. One ear cocked, she surveyed the small forest that topped the nearest grassy knoll. 

“Fine, fine. It’s not like I wouldn’t see him if he was out in the open anyways,” she grumbled, trudging towards the trees. She hated the dark. Dark meant that her options were more limited, while the options of dangers expanded. Her eyesight was terrible in the dark. It wouldn’t take a lone roving predator to take her out; a root hidden in the dark could trip her wrong just as easily. She was alone out here, and didn’t want to try to deal with any twisted ankles. 

On that thought, she stepped into the dim cover of the trees. A deep rumble of thunder echoed across the empty space behind her. “Nimbus!” She bellowed. She chucked a grape into the forest. How the hell was she supposed to find a sheep here? If only she had a dog that was trained to herd and track; this never would have happened otherwise. She took a few tentative steps forward. Another rumble of thunder startled her, and she hopped sideways and immediately fetched up against a slender tree. 

“This is ridiculous,” she growled to herself. “You’ve been through here a million times during the day.” A lie; she had been through this copse of trees exactly once. There was a reason she liked to live out in the open. She straightened and took a deep breath, letting calm settle over her like a cloak. As she paused to take another deep breath, she heard a rustling just ahead of her. It was coming from where she had chucked the grape. 

With only a minor hesitation, she ran forward and plunged both hands into the thick brush. Emerging with her prize, she could finally— no, wait, that was definitely not a sheep.

A switcher eel dangled from her grasp. It was bright red and striped, with inquisitive (and currently very startled) blue eyes. A squished grape was poking out of its mouth, dribbling juice down its jaw. It blinked at her and rapidly swallowed the rest of its prize. 

Solace sighed heavily and stuffed the switcher eel in her bag. It let out a protesting squeak, but subsided as it (presumably) found the rest of the grapes. “Not the worst thing to stumble upon, I suppose,” she muttered. It could have been a wild animal instead of what was most likely an escaped or abandoned pet. She would find someone to pass it off to later so that it wouldn’t die out in the wild. 

“Nimbus!” She called again, trying to re-focus on the task at hand. The thunder was sounding closer, and a few droplets of rain were starting to make their way through the canopy of leaves above her. This copse was still relatively young; the trees were small, and not great protection against the coming storm. Her cozy home, however, would be perfect — aside from the leak she hadn’t yet been able to fix in part of her roof. She just hadn’t had the time. She had been hoping to fix it today, but work had kept her long, so that had put the kibosh on that. “Nimbus for the love of Eden,” she snapped at the trees. 

Thunder boomed directly above her, scaring her half out of her wits again. She crouched automatically — and heard a frightened bleat from further in the woods. Scurrying along, still crouched over in case lightning decided to strike anywhere close to her, she headed towards the noise. “Nimbus, thank the heavens,” she said, finally coming upon the sheep in a tangle of briars. His white wool coat was tangled with leaves and smudged with dirt, but he didn’t seem to be injured — just stuck. She carefully worked him free of the brambles. He was her youngest charge and had been the runt of his litter, which was how she’d acquired him, so he was easy to scoop up in her arms, despite her walking stick. She picked her way carefully back out of the copse of trees just as it started to rain in earnest. She leaned over, sheltering Nimbus as well as she could with her body. Her backpack was waterproof, so at least the stray eel would be alright — not that it would mind the wet in either case.

Solace stepped out from under the cover of the trees and looked around, trying to orient herself. She could just see the warm glow of her tiny house through the rain that was now coming down in sheets. She set off, getting soaked and muddy within minutes. Nimbus was shivering and shuddering against her, and letting out sporadic bleats. 

“This is what you get for wandering off,” she grumped, not meaning a word of it. She would fix that fence in the morning, work be damned. She could show up late once just to make sure this didn’t happen again. She was all her sheep had. She was going to start looking for a better-paying job after this, though; a dog would have definitely helped prevent this mess. 

She took Nimbus inside with her once she finally reached home. There was no way she was going to leave him out in the tiny barn all night. The others would be protected from the wind and rain, but they weren’t already soaked and scratched. She whisked him away into the bathroom and turned the taps on hot. Washing him, checking his scratches, and drying him took a long time. By the time he was clean and warm, they were both exhausted. She settled a pile of towels on the floor by her bed and settled him into it — and he was asleep within moments. She watched him to make sure he would stay, but he was down for the count. 

With a sigh, Solace went back into the bathroom and lowered herself into the refreshed bath. Warm water seeped into her fur, finally chasing away the chill that had clung to her since the first few drops of rain. Thunder continued to boom outside, but it was almost comforting now that there were walls and a roof between her and it. 

She rested her head back against the porcelain and fought down the wave of loneliness that rose up without warning. She wanted a dog. She wanted a roommate. She wanted friends. She wanted something more than this. She was so happy with her sheep, so happy with the little property that she worked so hard for. She wanted it to be enough. She couldn’t chase away the feeling that if she’d just had someone, everything would be a hell of a lot easier to handle. A roommate would mean she didn’t have to take extra hours at her stupid retail job in order to pay down the house. A friend would mean that she could have called someone to help her fix the stupid fence. She signed heavily and sank further down into the bath. It was fine. The loneliness always abated somewhat. She just had to keep busy. 

She dried herself off and tucked herself into bed, setting her alarm to get up early — hopefully she could actually finish fixing the fence before she had to get up for work. She fell asleep to the soothing sound of Nimbus’s quiet breathing and rain pattering on the roof.