Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Naanaa's story (part 3)

"Mom, where's Muzi?"
"I don't know sweetie. He's probably just hiding somewhere. We'll find him when we get home, ok?"
"Oh-kaaaay. Do I have to go to school?"
"Yes. Hurry up."

Two black tails flick toward each other, one nebulous and silky, the other lost in fluff but solid. 
(What is it?)
(Rabbit.) But Naanaa's whiskers shiver, uncertain. The scent is muddled. The silhouette is distorted.
(Not tree. Rabbit. - Wait here.) 
The obedient one sits. 
What do rabbits know of spectres? His paws leave no mark in the dirt; he was stealthy even in life. The rabbit-thing nibbles the drooping leaves of a mesquite tree. Its slender antlers lay along its back as its head tips upward. 
Naanaa pauses in the tall desert grasses; rabbit, but more so - the scent is more musky, less leafy than a jack rabbit. More dangerous. Rabbit, but not. 
Naanaa's nostrils flare. Contemplation isn't easy these days. 

Muzi is getting hot and his belly is unhappy.
(Hungry.) But Naanaa isn't back yet. 
(Naanaa!) Soft paws trot toward the shadow of another cat. 
The rabbit-thing stops nibbling to watch the intruder. - Cat-sized, but kitten-minded - not dangerous. - It goes back to its snack.

Naanaa's eyes narrow, but he turns and meets Muzi.
(Hungry! Hot!)
(Follow. Home.)
Muzi follows the shadow's steps to the shed. The house is locked up until Mom gets home, but the shed is cool and has mice. 
The shed is elevated from the dirt by three wood beams underneath the floor; Naanaa leads Muzi to a hole in the back corner. They come up behind the horses' feed bin. 

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