A Glimpse

"I'm going out for a while, darling. Stay here, alright?" Bb diligently repeated the words in his head. Well, they bounced around more like an echo in a cave, but the point was that he was listening. He sat on the grassy floor of the nursery, his legs tucked underneath himself so that he looked like a peculiar loaf of bread. It was oddly quiet. Loonlings that usually galloped around squealing had grown up or left the building for the day, seeking adventure. A small bundle of companion creatures had taken shelter in a corner and were dozing in a pile, but for the most part, he was alone. 

 Time had slipped by, as it has a tendency to do. Bb would occasionally blink and glance with his glassy-eyed stare at one of the windows. The formation of clouds outside would change, but little else. Venus, whose words still cycled through his head now and again, showed no signs of returning. Bb was very good at waiting. Considering it required no focus or skill, him and his blurry mind excelled at it. Yet, he found himself shifting in the grass, looking around for movement far more often than he usually would. He'd begun to find it difficult to remain parked on the floor. It was like his limbs had a mind of their own. And they said they wanted to go somewhere.  

Bb discontentedly shuffled onto his paws, heaving a forlorn-sounding sigh. He stared blankly at the door that led outside for several moments before turning around and taking up a pace around the nursery. One of the companions peeked open an eye to peer at him, but resumed their nap when it was clear that he wasn't going to come too close. He plodded back and forth like a workhorse that didn't have a say in the matter, head down and path unchanging. There was something going on inside his head that would make him sometimes squint at the passing floor or tilt his head to the side as if the annoyance would tumble out his ear. It wasn't just Venus repeating in there. He could hear something else - someone else. He didn't recognize the second voice, nor could he hear what it was saying. It was far away and hushed with many layers to it that varied in pitch, making it dizzying to decode.  

After trying to ignore the noise for a while, he paused in front of a window that overlooked the valley. He looked his reflection in the eye, processing something very slowly. He'd done several laps past the window as he tried to shake the intruder from his head. Whenever he got close, it would get just the slightest bit louder. He pressed his nose up against the glass to see if the volume would continue to grow, but there wasn't enough room for the test. His face just squished against the window. It took a few moments for him to realize his experiment wasn't going to bear fruit. He peeled his muzzle away from the panes and looked towards the door, realizing he'd have to go outside to get closer to the mysterious noise. Suddenly, Venus' reminder to stay put fell out of his head and disappeared into the grass. Without a second thought, Bb padded over to the entrance and pushed the door open with his forehead.  

Outside, the weather was pleasant. In the distance, there was the sound of the waves hitting the beach and birds chirping in far away trees. Bb swung his head around, looking down the towering hill the nursery sat atop. Below in the valley, little specks of loons went about their day, crossing between the grassy domes that lined the dirt paths of the village. The colorful flecks often went in and out of the Main Hall. Sometimes, a clump of them would run off somewhere and disappear behind the lumps of the buildings. Despite all the activity, the path that led up to the nursery was abandoned. The nearest loons were likely on the beach behind him, dozing in the sun.  

In a slow sort of way, Bb walked over to the outside-side of the window he'd previously been looking through. Before he reached it, it became clear that the wispy chatter he was trying to hear had become louder. However, it still wasn't nearly loud enough to hear. He paused and squinted, trying with all his brainpower to pick up on a word or two, but it was no use. He considered becoming sad and plopping down defeatedly in the grass, but the whispers were alluring enough that he managed to take a few more steps before giving up. Then, he hit upon a realization and, with it, an idea. The sounds were growing louder...like someone was leaving a trail into the woods behind the nursery. If he followed it, he was sure to find who was trying to tell him something. Bb didn't exactly smile at this discovery, but his eyes did sparkle ever so slightly. He picked up a wobbly trot and began to follow the path that had been laid down for him.  

 It was fairly common knowledge that Bb was not a clever loon. He'd been that way ever since he spawned, appearing as Cheesecloth's tail head for a moment long enough to traumatize him before beaming down in the Main Hall correctly. As such, it didn't exactly occur to him that he had been walking for an awfully long time. He was faintly aware it had gotten dark for a while, but now it was light again, so it scarcely mattered. The whispers had been growing ever more focused, but never clear as he continued on. Now, with pine needles rustling overhead instead of the familiar flat leaves of the beeches, he was beginning to pick up on a word or two. They were only small things - an 'it' or 'me'. Nothing more than two letters. Not only that, but something was progressively worming its way into his chest. It wasn't something he often felt, so he couldn't exactly place it. The sensation was unpleasant. If he hadn't seen progress on his search, it might have made him turn back  

One more step. Two more steps. Three more steps. His single train of thought was tugged away from the icky feeling. The voices had begun to separate. They will still wispy, made of multiple, unnatural tones, but there were pitches he could recognize as different than the others. They'd started to come into focus rather fast compared to the gradual increase on his journey. Words were pouring into his brain. His paws stumbled on the peat underfoot, as if they couldn't bear to bring him forwards. His breath seemed to leave him, like he'd fallen into an icy river. They were talking. At first, they'd been talking about themselves, but now they were talking about him. They knew he was there. He knew they where there. All six of them. He could feel them standing in a clearing as each paw was his own. He could feel them turn their heads towards him, but they couldn't see them. Their eyes were wide. They were confused. He was confused  

And it hurt. For just a moment, he was out of the fog. His eyes were open and he was present - really truly present. All the years he'd been in the village, living with Venus, the nursery...he'd never really been there. He didn't even know he was in the haze. But now, he felt so foolish. On top of that, his head swarmed with questions, too many to count. It felt that the longer he stood there, the more he could take in. It was so much to process and yet there was no time. He felt them growing alarmed, the spike of anxiety forming in his own chest the same as it did theirs. This was beyond regular brainpower. It was so much even to them. They tried to come forward, to find where he stood beneath the trunks. In part, he took their steps for them. They saw through his eyes too, lifted his head to look around for landmarks. They didn't quite meet in the middle  

The sky went black before the hive could leave their home clearing. They looked up, eyes wide. A mass of symbols swarmed in the shadows. Some things were familiar - there was the shape carved in the dirt of their clearing, the special markings on their coats. Others made no sense. A spider, a pair of scissors, creatures they'd never seen before. They didn't have long to look, as glowing white cracks began to jut across the horizon, holding the visions back like the bars of a cage. Yet, it was too much. They rattled angrily in their prison. More cracks formed until it looked like the sky would collapse under its own weight. Regardless, they could do nothing but stare. It meant everything and nothing at once. They saw it all  

And then, Bb was ripped into reality so violently, he wasn't sure he would remain conscious. There was the thud of someone jumping on him, pushing him into the dirt. His eyes were too foggy to identify the streak of grey that had begun tearing into him, biting at this skin. Distraught, confused, he wailed and tried to scramble to his feet. The attacker stayed directly on his heels, snarling and snapping like a feral dog. He had no choice but to run. As he did, he felt the pristine clarity shrinking from his mind. Part of him was mortified, wanting nothing more to cling to it. He wanted to be normal - he didn't want to go back to plodding around, half-zombie. The other half though, was a terrified animal that would do anything to escape the horrors he had witnessed. The latter part was winning. And so, the fog crowded back in. He felt he had to hopelessly watch as whatever just happened disappeared on the horizon of his mind, fading into a pinpoint and then nothing  

Bobbyquinn skidded to a halt in the fallen needles, gasping for breath. Up ahead, the brown loon ran like his life depended on it. She waited for him to whirl around and act like he was going to come back, but no such thing happened. Inside her head, she could hear a voice tsk-tsking at her. She tried to push it away, but thankfully didn't have to struggle too hard. It remained silent for now. She'd no doubt get two earfuls later, though. Focusing on the present, she turned to face the way she'd come in a mad dash. The hive lived fairly near her woodland hut, but she still had to conjure up an impressive sprint when she'd felt her chest was going to tear in two. How she knew where to run, she wasn't sure. Well...that was only a partial truth. She'd always known there was something wrong with those weird six. Just what, she couldn't exactly pin down. Bb, the symbol in the dirt, the empty seventh hut in the clearing, though... She should have put two and two together. It just...didn't seem like it would have been the answer. Bb was so...Bb  

She ran out of time to dwell on it. The hive members were creeping between the tree trunks, peering out in confusion. They blinked like their eyes hurt and limped like they'd run for miles. Their strange, blank expressions landed on her one by one. They'd seen each other, of course. She would often come to take notes on them and their peculiar clearing. The two parties just sort of avoided each other. Now was no different. She could feel them trying to puzzle together what had just happened as they stared holes through her. It made her feel it was time for her to leave. Without a word, she turned away from them and started back towards her home  

Meanwhile, Bb galloped on. His world was a blur of frightened panic. Something bad was happening. He knew it. But what? As if there was a giant monster on his tail, he didn't slow down for anything, even though there was no way he was able to recognize his surrounding area. If he'd stopped, he might have realized he had no hope of getting home to Venus and the nursery. But he didn't stop. He kept going until the ground underfoot turned to stone and he was going uphill. His eyes were full of tears and everything was just a blur of color. He wasn't safe yet. He had to keep going  

And he did. He dashed up a long, rickety wooden ramp. Into a cavernous, dark cave. Through the strange portal it held in its depths. Across the sands of the Burning Lands, a dimension not his own. Eventually, the heat and exhaustion became too much. He toppled over, scarcely reaching the shade of a towering pillar of stone. When he eventually woke he would be lost beyond belief, his pawprints swept away by hot winds