As
the days grew ever hotter and stickier, Petal became so well-adjusted
to life in Evershade that she frequently embarked on short excursions
alone. She visited the Vaults for an acorn pot of mushroom soup
ingredients and half of a black walnut. She made several trips to the
stream for fresh water, and she even braved the critical eye of Maple
with a visit to the bakery to compliment the plump mouse on her fruit
’n nut bread, which secretly pleased Maple so much that she gruffly
sent Petal packing with half a dozen honeywheat rolls and a braided
apple ’n onion loaf.
It
was on one particularly hot morning that Petal came upon Willow and
her friends cooling their paws in the creek. Willow was dangling the
bonnet Ash had made for her down her back.
“Petal!”
Willow exclaimed when she saw the pretty young mousemaid approaching.
“Hello,
Willow. I see Ash finished making your hat. It looks lovely.”
“It
is, isn’t it? Thank you for asking him to make it for me.”
“You’re
welcome, but Ash is the one to thank. He made it well,” Petal
replied.
“Yes,
Willow, you should thank
him,” one of Willow’s friends said, her words dripping with
hidden meaning.
The
two young mousemaids with Willow were the same ones who had
accompanied her at First Harvest. The one who had spoken was taller
than Willow and lanky, a permanent look of displeasure with the world
and everyone in it etched across her face. The second mousemaid was
the shortest of the trio and stockier. She glared at Petal
suspiciously from behind the taller mousemaid.
“Petal,
these are my friends. This is Aster,” she said, gesturing to the
taller mousemaid, “and this is Thistle.”
Neither
mousemaid attempted to greet Petal and instead stood staring at her
for a few uncomfortable moments.
Petal
cleared her throat.
“I
love your markings. It’s called ‘tipping,’ isn’t it?” Petal
asked, trying to get them to open up.
A
wicked smile played at the corners of Aster’s mouth. She regarded
Petal coolly. “Why, yes, it is. It is
called tipping.” Aster's face morphed into a sinister mask. “Oh,
I have a wonderful idea. Thistle, Willow, why don’t we show our new
friend, Petal here, how to tip?”
Willow’s
eyes grew wide. “I don’t know....”
“Quiet,
Willow. Don’t you think tannin would look beautiful against such
pale fur?” Aster said, taunting her friend. Willow said nothing.
“What—are you afraid everyone will think she’s prettier than
you?”
“No,”
Willow said sullenly.
“Do
you think Ash
will think she is prettier?” Aster sneered.
“No—that’s
not it at all!”
Petal
looked from Willow to Aster and back again. The conversation made her
uncomfortable, but she could not think of a polite way to leave.
“I
think tipping is very interesting, and it makes all three of you look
beautiful, but I’m not sure that tipping is for me.”
“Of
course it is. Everyone
does it. Even Ash did it,” Aster said. “You do want to fit in,
don’t you?”
“Everyone
has been so nice to me—I feel that I already do,” Petal replied,
feeling as though she was being lured into some sort of trap.
“They’re
just too embarrassed to tell you the truth. But I’m not. If you
want to fit in here, you have to tip. There's no other way.” Aster
rose to her full height and gazed down at her triumphantly.
Petal
considered this carefully. It was true she didn't quite feel that she
completely
fit in because of her coloring. And tipping was almost a rite of
passage by the sound of it. Besides that, she did admire the markings
that Willow and her friends bore. It might be interesting to have her
fur a different color for a change.
“I
suppose it would be all right,” she said hesitantly.
“Mint!”
Aster said as Thistle chuckled behind her. “Why wait? I have a pot
of tannin in my burrow you can use. Come on.”
Before
Petal could change her mind, she found herself being led away from
the Fray where Willow, who watched them go, stood in place as a hint
of fear rippled through her eyes.
High
above, another set of eyes stared down at her from The Corridor.
Aster... She's a mean one
ReplyDelete