Why You Should Always Follow the Buddy System
“You know, I’d hate to say ‘I told you so’ but...”
Meris pulled at one of the many thorned branches attached to his clothes. “No, by all means, say it as much you like. I should have listened to you in the first place.”
“The idea in general wasn’t bad,” Myra reassured him, while she attempted to detach herself from the spike laden bushes without drawing any blood (because their situation certainly didn’t need that added element). “But using this particular path—or lack of—to get down to the stream was not your brightest idea ever.”
“I definitely didn’t expect that drop-off to be there.”
This point was proven earlier by his girlish squeal and arm flailing which immediately followed his sudden discovery of the gully edge. And Myra, in response to his fall, went against her good judgment and raced to the edge, which quite predictably, crumbled.
Luckily, when she fell, she did not land on top of him in any cliché suggestive position, but rather, slid in behind him bumping his back lightly with her knees.
So now, exactly one minute and twenty-seven seconds later, they were finally attempting to ascertain a way to get out of their situation.
Since he was facing the other direction and couldn’t turn around, Meris talked to her over his shoulder, “Any ideas?”
“None. You?”
“Yes, one, but it’s not very good. And considering the results of my last three ideas which consecutively resulted in us getting lost, losing our dowels, and ending up in this rather uncomfortable position; I don’t think you want to hear it.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, “I already told you that they weren’t bad ideas. You’re a smart person. Any idea you have I know I can trust to be intelligent, not always well thought out, but... just tell me what it is, then I’ll judge if it’s good or not.”
He sighed and looked above them. “Well, basically it involves—that is a really big chicken.”
“Eh?” she pulled her hand back, startled at his words. But he grabbed it and held it tightly.
“Look!” he said, pointing up. “Is that, or is that not the biggest chicken you have ever seen?”
Myra’s eyes followed the invisible line from Meris’s finger. It ended on what was, quite definitely, the biggest chicken she had ever seen. The reddish brown colored bird nested on the large branches of a gigantic tree that was near them. Its size was at least as big a cow, but with its feathers all puffed out, it appeared much bigger. Golden-yellow eyes stared piercingly over a stubby, yet razor sharp beak which hung slightly open, showing off a forked tongue.
“This is bad,” Meris gulped. “I think I hear chicks.”
Myra, who had occasionally visited her uncle’s farm, knew just how dangerous a mother hen could be. “That idea you had earlier? What ever it is, I’m all for it as long as it gets us out of here quickly.”
“Actually, that basically is the idea.” Keeping a firm grip on her hand, he stood up, pulling her to her feet. Then he spoke the word which she wanted to hear most and least at that moment.
“Run.”
And run they did, with no purpose or direction in mind, save the one that led them away from the great fowl the fastest. Meris was taking most of the damage from the bushes because he was leading, but Myra was certainly getting her fair share of scratches and scrapes. They both used one arm to shield their faces while never letting go of the other’s hand.
When they finally stopped to rest, Myra collapsed in exhaustion, and Meris leaned against a tree to catch his breath. His actions troubled Myra because he seemed surprisingly out of shape for a vampire. She voiced her concerns regarding the matter through ragged heaving breaths.
Still looking down, Meris replied sourly, “Well, I haven’t exactly had an easy day so far.” Then he looked up suddenly with a guilt ridden face. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude of me to complain to you.”
Myra smiled warmly at him. “No, that’s fine. It’s nice to see that you can be open around me sometimes. Besides, your hard day is partially my fault. I did drink all of your water.”
He collapsed beside her, rested his back against the tree, and looked away. “Please, don’t blame yourself—oh no, don’t move.”
With narrowed eyes, Myra asked, “What is it now?”
“You know that proverb about escaping a frying pan only to end up in the fire? That seems to be our theme for the day.”
She sighed, “And what exciting new danger have we managed to stumble upon now?”
“Tree Squid.”
His reply caused her to perk up and take special note of her surroundings. The wooded area looked pretty much exactly the same as what they had been wandering around in for the last few hours (excluding their recent excursion into a gully of thorned bushes) except for one thing. Long, light green vines the width of her thumb hung from the tall branches, dangling until they just swept the forest floor. The closest vine to her was a few feet away, but Myra could still see distinct round suckers covering its outside.
It must have been a miracle that they got to where they were without brushing against any of it, because the vines were so thickly dispersed that there was no possible way of getting out of the area without it completely covering them.
Cautiously, she inched her way closer to Meris and asked, “Is it a plant, or an animal?”
“Lichen, actually. I don’t know much about it, and I’ve never seen any in person, but I’ve heard that it can be extremely dangerous.”
A barely audible, “Eep!” escaped Myra’s lips when she noticed one of the vine tips wriggling on the ground slowly coming toward her leg. At this point, she unceremoniously dove into Meris’s lap and hugged his arm tightly. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said in a slightly timid voice. “I just feel a bit, um, saver... over here. There aren’t as many vines.”
Meris cleared his throat. “I don’t mind, if you don’t.” His tone was even, but the light blush on his cheeks was obvious, reminding Myra that, even though he was part vampire, warm blood coursed through his veins. This caused her to remember one of her previous concerns about his vampiric tendencies.
“Are you sure?” she asked skeptically. “Even if I show you this?”
It was stupid, she knew this. It was possibly the most stupid thing she had ever done in her entire life, and it was even on purpose. Despite the fact that it is just good common sense that you don’t shove your scratched up bloody forearm into the face of a vampire who (you are pretty certain) hasn’t “fed” for the last several days, Myra did it anyway.
A brief moment before revealing her mutilated appendage, she had decided that it would be better to find out now, that he had a problem with her injuries, rather than after he lost control of his inner vampire. Even if it meant that, when he looked at her arm, he responded by saying, “Thanks for the offer! (CHOMP)”
Fortunately for Myra, his response was slightly more in her favor. “You are an extremely brave woman.”
Her arm did not waver. “No, just stupid and impatient.” She looked him in the eyes. “Are you sure this doesn’t bother you?’
“That depends,” he said in a low voice. “On what exactly you are referring too.”
She was puzzled for a moment by his response. Until she realized how close their faces where, at which instant she jumped back slightly and almost yelled, “My arm, of course! How it, and basically all the rest of my exposed skin (and yours, for that matter) is bloody and torn.”
“If you are talking about my difficulty in restraining myself when I see blood, don’t worry. Silversin gave me a pill to try this morning that is supposed to restrain my inner vampire, and it seems to be working just fine.”
“A pill that makes you not go all vampy? That’s great! Now I can introduce you to all of my friends. Well, the ones that aren’t part of that weird Jelly Monster cult.”
A chuckle rumbled through Meris’s chest and throat. “Don’t make me into a harmless human just yet. I’m still not sure if there are any side effects to the pill. Or what might happen once it wears off. My inner vampire will possibly be very upset at being forcibly repressed like that.”
Myra was aware that she should probably be frightened by his words. More than frightened, she should be terrified. She should be running as far away from this unstable being as her legs could carry her. Forget about deadly Tree Squid, she was sitting in the lap of someone who just told her that he was a walking, blood-sucking, time bomb. But, this was Meris—adorable, sweet, ever-faithful Meris. The huggable vampire who just begged to be cuddled, especially when he looked at you with that: ‘I don’t deserve your friendship’ face. She couldn’t help herself. She leaned against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder and asked, “When might this mini apocalypse happen, then?”
His right arm —which was attached to the shoulder she was resting on— wrapped around her back until his hand slightly touched her right elbow. “Well, the pill is supposed to last a whole day, but this is the first time it’s ever been tested, so, hopefully not before tomorrow morning.”
“Do you think we’ll be found by then?” She asked while idly rubbing her thumb in circles around the finger knuckles of his left hand.
“If we continue talk, I have no doubt that Sam will hear us eventually.” He noticed her body tense at the word “eventually,” so he added, “and if I feel any sort of ‘changes’ happening, I promise that I will sacrifice myself to the Tree Squid before I even think about hurting you.”
Myra smiled softly at his misinterpretation. She was not upset at the thought of being found later rather than sooner, in fact it was quite the opposite. She had been entertaining thoughts of freezing that moment in time and the idea of someone finding them, even eventually, slightly upset her.
Just then she felt her stomach grumble, reminding her that she had hardly eaten anything that day. At least it would distract her from her hunger if they continued to converse, as he had suggested. “I think that talking sounds like a really good idea right now,” she said.