Runaway, Part Four: On the Kindness of Strangers

       Ever since coming across the odd monster travelers, Nina’s days had taken on a simple routine. She would wait until they uprooted their camp and then follow them, taking great care to avoid detection. They knew she was there, of course. Nina would often wander off the path they forged to shoot a rabbit or, on one occasion, a young deer, and then leave the dead animal for them to discover further down the trail. She had to admit that it was more than a little weird, but they had been leaving her a meal each night, and she felt the need to give back somehow.

       When the monsters settled down for the night, Nina would do the same, crawling up a tree close enough to their camp that she could hear the friendly conversations they engaged in around the crackling flames. Occasionally music drifted up with the campfire’s smoke, and Nina would close her eyes, forgetting for a moment that the people she followed were monsters. Eventually, one would leave some excess food at the edge of whichever clearing they had decided to utilize, and she would take it, returning any dishes they provided to her well before morning came.

       She’d caught glimpses of them from time to time, although she did her best not to, as each time she did, she would spiral into a panic at the sudden realization that they were monsters, and that, given the opportunity, they would surely kill her. She had wondered, several times, if they were not giving her food out of pity, but rather in a desire to fatten her up before devouring her. Some part of her knew–well, hoped–that if the monsters were going to hurt her, they would have done it by now, but that voice’s quiet whispers were nothing compared to the cacophony of her fears. In the weeks that she had been following them, Nina had been forced to curl into a ball as she waited for her anxiety to subside more times than she cared to admit. 

       And yet... as soon as she could move again, Nina would resume following the monsters. She didn’t know why; maybe it was because the silent tracking reminded her of better days, when her father would have still approved of her existence. Or maybe she just liked listening to their conversations, which were almost comically mundane. She could at least admit to herself that she liked the music.

       They would occasionally talk about their next destination, a small village of monsters at the edge of the woods. Nina knew that she would have to leave before they got there, but she found herself putting off making plans for her next move. As the days passed, she began to entertain the thought of revealing herself, although any thought that maybe–just maybe–these monsters would accept her… they always gave her pause. Even if these monsters weren’t evil–and despite all she had seen of them, her father’s harsh admonishments still rattled through her mind–if they found out she was once human? If they knew she had fully intended to join her father in one day hunting their kind?

       Well, Nina knew what she would do. And she was sure that if any of them saw her up close, they would clock her. It hadn’t taken long for her father to realize what she had become–why would these monsters not discover what she had been?

       Thoughts like those swelled and echoed every time she thought of interacting with those monsters. So she kept her distance. She did her best to ignore them and they ignored her.

       There was one time, though…

       It was late at night, when the posse of monsters was usually sound asleep, and Nina was returning the wooden dishes they had provided to her. She had done it a dozen times before; the task had become so routine that she had confidently crept in, eyes fixed on the dirt, and deposited the bowl and spoon in a small pile of other supplies. As she turned to leave, though, she had accidentally landed her eyes on one of the sleeping figures circling the now-empty fire pit. It was always much easier to sneak into their camp when she pretended that they were humans, but the satyr’s jutting horns dashed that fantasy rather quickly.

       Especially since the monster’s eyes were open, and they immediately locked onto hers.

       She had run, but the monster hadn’t given chase, and, the next morning, the group had continued on as normal. The one who saw her–the satyr–didn’t even mention their brief encounter, and it almost convinced Nina they didn’t mean any harm, not really.

       Almost. 

        ***

        She had gotten careless, and it had cost her. The path the monsters traversed ran alongside a fast-moving stream, and she had been trying to cross it to retrieve a large bird she had shot. Before her body decided that it wasn’t exactly human, Nina had been able to make such a jump with ease, but she hadn’t attempted anything like it since well before she left home.

        Nina had made it to the other bank easily–although its current was vigorous, the stream itself was only a few feet wide–but on her return trip, she had lost her balance upon landing and, in an effort to steady herself, had stepped backwards into the rain-swollen current. She managed to escape its relentless waters, but not before receiving a nasty gash on her leg, courtesy of the jutting rocks protruding from its bed.

        Cursing, Nina tested her injured leg, only to find that it couldn’t hold any weight without protesting so fiercely that Nina felt she might faint. Exhaling shakily, Nina considered her options as she leaned against a tree, still clutching the blasted bird that had gotten her into this mess. There was only one option, and she knew this, but she was loath to admit it. Her leg was still bleeding, though, so she needed to be quick.

       Nina began stumbling along the trail, following the voices she could faintly hear above the roaring of blood in her ears. She maintained her balance by sticking close to the thick trunks that ran alongside the path, and hoped that she would be able to catch up to the monsters before passing out. Her thoughts swam as her vision flickered in and out of view, and she felt herself call out, as if in a dream…

       And then she could see their heads turning, and the biggest one stalked towards her, towering over her trembling frame. She saw his mouth moving, but she couldn’t process anything that he said. It lowered its head, as if to charge, and Nina panicked. She let go of the tree supporting her and turned to run. But it was far too late for any of that.

       Nina collapsed, and her last thought was of what a stupid way this was to die.

 

***

 

       The first surprise was that she woke up. The second was the music.

       Nina’s eyes shot open as she struggled to remember what had transpired that led her to waking in a quiet clearing, where a fire flickered warmly and a beast sat across from her, strumming a guitar that looked tiny against its enormous frame. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it, but the familiar tune washed over her–music she had heard only from a distance before. She tried to shove her unruly thoughts away and get caught up in it, and was moderately successful–enough that, after a few minutes, she was able to dare a glance up and study the minotaur. He boasted a massive pair of obsidian-gray horns that curved around his head, which resembled that of a bull. The rest of his body was humanoid, though covered in coarse gray fur, and his legs ended in sturdy hooves. His body rippled with muscle, but he handled the guitar with a tenderness that Nina didn’t know monsters were capable of. The realization brought a lump to her throat. She wasn’t sure why.

       She shifted positions and grunted as a dull throb came from her leg, now carefully wrapped in bandages. Oh, right, she did something stupid, and thought that maybe, just maybe, those monsters would be able to help. Judging by the way one of them had tended to her leg, she’d been right.

       She dared another look at the minotaur, who had continued to play his guitar, engrossed in the gentle tune he was weaving. The only way she could think to describe the tune was beautiful, and had he been a human, Nina wouldn’t have hesitated to say so. But no words came from her half-open mouth, because she knew engaging in conversation–even just pleasantries–was dangerous. Sure, okay, these monsters were decent enough people to bandage up the weird monster that had been semi-stalking them for several weeks. But the clock was ticking on them discovering her true nature–and she couldn’t just let it come up in conversation. If she did talk, knowing her luck, she would probably accidentally let it slip that her father had killed a minotaur recently, and its skull was proudly displayed in her former home. This minotaur, enraged, would demand to know why a monster would kill other monsters for sport. Then he would realize. And then he would dump her in the river.

       The two of them seemed to be alone in the grotto, which surprised Nina. The monsters had rarely split up in the time she knew them, and it seemed odd that they only left one person behind to watch her. Especially when their only guard was so intent on his music that he hadn't even noticed that Nina was conscious.

       Of course, Nina’s hopes of slipping away while he was distracted and never thinking about this ever again were dashed when one of the other monsters slipped between two trees and immediately noticed Nina’s watchful gaze. “Oh, you’re awake!” She said cheerfully, carefully setting a potted bush a fair distance away from the fire and then plopping down in front of Nina. “How are you feeling?”

       Nina guessed that she was a nymph, and that the bush she was carrying was the plant she was linked to. Her skin was tinted a faint shade of green, and her pointed ears stuck out of a haphazard head of leaves, interspersed with small pockets of blueberries. Nina watched her warily, failing to keep the suspicion out of her eyes. She said nothing.

       The nymph smiled sympathetically. “That’s okay, dear. We know you’re shy.”

       Nina met the nymph’s gaze–it was gentle, with a compassion she had rarely seen from her father, let alone a stranger–and gave a small, uncertain nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, hon. I’m Belinda.” She crouched and extended a hand towards Nina, which Nina shied away from. Mercifully, Belinda didn’t push her luck. Instead, she turned towards the minotaur. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

       He shrugged, finally glancing up from his guitar and meeting Nina’s gaze. “Name’s Brutus. It’s a pleasure, I guess.” He was surprisingly soft-spoken for a creature of his size, and his voice held a certain note of sadness that was hard to place. For the first time, Nina noticed that the tips of his massive horns appeared to have been shorn off. “Where’re Gary an’ Piper?” He asked Belinda, his gaze focused on his instrument rather than her. His hands were twitching, drumming against the guitar with an unsurprising level of impatience and a surprising level of… fear? Nina examined his gaze again. Despite his totally alien face, she thought she recognized a glint of anxiety in his eyes. It was how she felt, being near these monsters.

       “Still getting water. Piper thought I oughta come over and check on you and our young tagalong, seeing as you rarely look past your fingerboard.” Brutus gave an amused grunt at that, and Belinda continued, saying, “It’s a good thing, too, since you definitely didn’t notice she was awake.”

       Brutus snorted. “I noticed, but the last time I tried to talk to her, she turned tail and ran.” He lifted his head and looked towards Nina sheepishly. “Sorry ‘bout that, by the way.”

       It’s fine, Nina wanted to say, even though it wasn’t. Anything to turn the conversation away from her. Words continued to fail her, though, so she just nodded awkwardly. Brutus accepted this and returned to his guitar.

       “Oh hey, is the kid awake?” A voice said from the opening Belinda had come through. A satyr trotted into view, carrying a few waterskins and a full pot, which he immediately placed on the stand that had been set up over the fire. He then looked towards Nina and grinned. “Oh, lovely, lovely!” He stuck out a hand. “I’m Gary.”

        Nina acknowledged him with a tiny nod, tightening her hands’ protective grip on her shoulders. Belinda gently steered Gary away from Nina, saving her from further interaction. The satyr settled next to Brutus, leaning against him. He had two pairs of horns–one pair stuck out of his forehead, surrounded by his auburn-colored hair, while the other two curved around his jawbone. He draped his goatlike legs over Brutus’s, who smiled and set aside his instrument, wrapping one of his hands around the tiny Satyr, drawing Gary into his lap.

       Belinda began tending to the pot of water as it boiled, and was soon helped along by a fairy that fluttered into the camp. She was tall for a fairy, but tiny by anyone else’s standards–perhaps only standing at a foot and a half. She introduced herself, but Nina barely acknowledged the greeting, since her heart had begun to pound as anxiety filled her body.

       Nina forced her eyes shut and once again focused on her breathing, hoping that her body would eventually get the hint and shut up. Mercifully, the monsters didn’t try to engage her in conversation, instead immersing themselves in their own discussion of... something. Nina found herself unable to attend to the conversation that ebbed and flowed through the grotto, but the familiar patterns of the monsters’ speech served to put her somewhat at ease. If she didn’t listen to what they said, she could almost imagine that she was at home, perhaps sitting on her father’s lap as he conversed with his hunting party. As her mind settled, she opened her eyes again. The monsters noticed–she was sure they did–but they continued their conversation, leaving Nina alone. Eventually, the stew finished its simmer, and Belinda served it to her fellow travelers.

       “So... would you prefer I leave this at the edge of our camp?” Belinda said coyly as she spooned out a final serving.

       Nina blinked, startled by the question. After considering the inquiry for a long moment–way too long, but who’s counting–she shook her head. Belinda chuckled and gently deposited the bowl in Nina’s arms.

        The sun set, the fire dimmed, and the monsters began to prepare for the night. “Would you like a blanket, dear?” Belinda asked Nina gently, offering her one from the top of one of the packs the monsters carried.

       Nina nodded, unsure of what else to tell the nymph, who obviously expected her to take it. She wrapped it around herself best she could, comforted by the smell of animal hide and woodsmoke that clung to it. It almost felt like home.

       But this wasn’t home. These monsters… why were they doing this? Nina had no idea. Monsters couldn’t be kind, or gentle, or comforting. They were nothing more than animals, vicious ones that destroyed indiscriminately, that needed to be eradicated. They couldn't be anything more than that.

       Nina realized that her inner monologue had morphed into the words of her father, and she shivered. Did she really still believe his words? She had followed these monsters for weeks, and they hadn’t once discussed their imminent plans to destroy a village or harass human travels. They seemed like, well… people. If she ignored their horns and tails and wings and leaf hair, she had to admit that they were remarkably human. But… there was still an anxiety gnawing at her stomach. And as the fire’s last coals flickered, she finally found the words to voice it. “Why are you doing this?” She asked, the question quiet and strained.

       Belinda turned to her. If she was surprised by Nina speaking, she didn’t show it. “Doing what, dear?”

       “Helping me. You... you don’t even know me.” Nina answered cautiously, feeling as if she was walking into a trap. Despite her misgivings, an accusatory note rose in her voice. “I-I’ve just been following you… for weeks. Why did you… why did you…”

       “It seemed the decent thing to do.” The answer came not from Belinda, but from Brutus, whose eyes reflected a sadness that felt all too familiar to Nina. “We’ve all been hurt. Monsters need to stick together. That’s all.” 

       Belinda nodded along with his words, as if they made perfect sense, but Nina didn’t. She couldn’t! She wasn’t–”B-but I’m not a monster!” She whispered, regretting the words as soon as she spoke them.

       But the monsters didn’t turn on her. They didn’t do anything, actually, they just exchanged glances as Belinda asked, “What do you mean?”

       “I…” Nina frantically searched the faces of the four monsters, trying desperately to gauge their reactions. None of them seemed fearful, just confused. Why was that? “I… was born human…” Even that, it didn’t garner any negative reaction! Their gazes softened, even, and Belinda tilted her head, as if prompting Nina to go on.

       So she did. She told them about her village, and her father, and his hunts. At that, she saw them tense, at least, but they didn’t demand that she left. That was more than she expected. After she finished, a silence hung over the camp. The coals were rapidly darkening and the night was cooling. None of the monsters were speaking.

       Nina couldn’t tell what they were feeling. She was wiped out. She hadn’t spoken this much in… weeks? Months? Since before she left. She added into the darkness, “I would have… if I had stayed with him, I probably would have killed you.”

       “But you didn’t stay with him,” Belinda said gently. “And you’re here now. Dear, we want to help you.”

       “Still?” Nina whispered, too scared to believe it. “But… why?”

       “It’s still the right thing to do,” Belinda asserted. “Just as you leaving was the right thing to do.”

       “... If I hadn’t become a monster, I would have stayed…” 

       “So what?” Brutus interrupted, snorting. “Doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now.”

       Nina considered this. She still didn’t understand why the monsters would want to go out of their way to help someone like her, but… they had. That was without doubt. Maybe she would understand it someday.

       The last of the coals had died, and now only moonlight illuminated the camp. Nina realized, then, that there was one thing she hadn’t told the monsters yet. “My name is Nina,” She murmured, holding the blanket closer, self-consciously. “Thank… thank you.”

       The monsters exchanged glances again. Then Belinda looked at her. And smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Nina,” She said warmly. “And you are most certainly welcome.”