NaNoWriMo Installment 7

Maybe he should take a note from some of his brethren. After all, if he weren’t wandering around the universe, following beauty wherever it led, he wouldn’t be lost in Mushroomia.

“Don’t follow that line of thinking!”

Tibault looked up in surprise and only then realized he’d been wandering aimlessly, not even watching where he was going. Maybe Mushroomia started to rub off even without eating the mushrooms.

“Oh yeah, that is totally true. Believe me, I know.”

Standing before Tibault was an elf. At least, he thought it was an elf.

“Nope! Not an elf.”

A telepathic being, certainly. Tibault started filtering through his mind files. Must be a fairy.

“Ha! Keep going!”

It had pointed ears like an elf, and was tall and wiry like one, too. But it had wings like a fairy, wings that looked too small to support its weight, yet that kept it aloft. It darted up and caught a dead hummingbird that was flitting about, darted back down to directly in front of Tibault, and bit the head off the hummingbird with sharp fangs. Tibault watched, fascinated. This unknown being, also dead, chewed the hummingbird’s head with great animation, while the now extra dead hummingbird body, still in the palm of the creature’s hand, regrew its head, shook a little, then flitted off again.

“Are you a demon?” Tibault said.

“A demon! Ha! What do you think this is, Hell?”

The creature smiled and licked its lips. Its tongue was forked, another mark towards demonhood, but maybe just some sort of snake-creature. Half snake, half fae, perhaps.

“Nope! That’s not a thing. My name’s Primrose, by the way.”

“Oh, yes! Where are my manners? I am Tibault. Most honored to make your acquaintance, Primrose.”

Primrose the not-elf-fae-demon darted away again and this time came back with a purple mushroom nearly as long and thin as they were. Primrose thrust it in front of Tibault and said, “Taste it. Doesn’t it smell SOOO good? Like lemon and butter and CANDY canes?”

Tibault inhaled and it did indeed smell good, but he certainly wasn’t going to take a bite. Was this creature just looking for a playmate?

Primrose grinned and threw the mushroom to the ground. “Yeah, baby! You know what’s what! Hoo! How long are you going to last here? No way out, you know!”

It seemed they’d given up on the game of Tibault figuring out what they were.

“That’s not true. There are many stories of Mushroomia, passed on from those who have been here, living, and escaped,” Tibault said.

“You SURE about that? Hey! Can I ride you?”

Tibault was taken aback. What a bold question. He couldn’t decide if it was rude or admirable for a creature to be so forthright. Most beings held unicorns in awe and treated them thusly.

“Why should I be in awe of you? You can fly, I can fly. You’re alive, I’m dead. You can talk, I can talk. You can think, I can read your thoughts! You don’t know what I am!” Primrose grinned.

“I can also heal. I can not only fly, but I can breathe anywhere. I bet you can’t breathe anywhere.” Tibault was getting flustered. How long had he been in Mushroomia, anyway? He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded.