NaNoWriMo Installment 5

I just noticed I called yesterday's post "Installment 3" but it was actually installment 4. Whoops. Here's a little more.

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It wasn’t a human. She’d seen plenty of those in her life. They were first taught about in school, and then one of the earliest field trips was to spy on a human favorite deep sea diving spot. Humans were the most dangerous of all creatures, so merpeople learned about them young and knew to be very cautious of them. It had arms and legs like a human, though, and an ape like face.

Astrid had the face of a unicorn, so she’d spent long hours studying the faces of her pod and noticing all the ways in which her face was different. The merpeople’s faces were not quite as ape like as humans. There was something fishier about them. This creature’s face was not at all fishy. If anything, it was insect-like. It reminded her of an ant. It wasn’t wearing any type of breathing apparatus, either. Did that mean it could breathe underwater? She didn’t see any gills on it. Maybe it was very good at holding its breath. It seemed to be looking for something. It was swimming along the bottom of the sea and raking its hands through the sand as it went. Astrid wondering how it was able to see. Then she noticed something, and couldn’t imagine how it had escaped her attention before. It had hooves.

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Tibault was now a bit lost in Mushroomia. He normally had an excellent sense of direction and had been sure he would be able to find his way back to Beater, no problem, but everything was different when he headed back toward her. This must be a trick of the spirit plane. Nothing was in the same place, and no dead being looked familiar. He started asking if anyone had seen a beautiful human named Beater, but no one had ever heard of her. That made sense, considering she had just died, but surely Tibault could find someone who knew something. He started asking who was in charge, but he just got confused looks in response.

He stopped in front of one wise-looking Owling and said in his most polite and formal tone, “Pardon me, most honorable Owling, but could you kindly point me in the direction of anyone in a Mushroomia leadership position?”

The Owling turned his head slowly down to look Tibault square in the face. “Outsider, we are all in our place and have no need of a leader. Find your purpose and be at peace.” The Owling flew up and out of sight and Tibault stamped his hooves in irritation. Leave to an Owling to answer his question with no answer at all.