In From the Sad Day Out
" ... it's alright." A small shudder-shake. Eyes screwed shut. Shutting out the streaming stars. Sight for night. Dark for dark. "Calm down," was the repeated, whispered plea. Soft and tender. In the dimness, in their quarters, both of them...
The Truly Repentant
"Captain's personal log, star-date ... date," he whispered, trailing, narrowing his eyes. The lighting in his ready room was dim. Casting shadows. Shrouding much of the lingering damage. "Computer, what day is it?" A weak, short response....
The Changing Face of Evil
Graham's half-open eyes fixated on the red squirrel's. "do not," she whispered, licking her dry lips, her tail shaking. twitching. flagging all over. "do not go to sleep. you hear me? i think you might have a light concussion.
Waiting for Thunder
The crew-furs of Yellowknife busied themselves. With their duties. With each other. Waiting for the storm to come. Waiting for the thunder. A waiting game. Waiting. Wait. Chirrup! The door chime, which sounded...
A Hard, Bruising Fall
"The flow regulators are off by .03 microns," the snow rabbit stated, her voice crisp. Controlled. Her posture proper, and her fluffy, white bobtail flickering like a flame. But it wasn't a flame that many wished to burn themselves on. If this fact...
To Touch and Know
"I never disappoint," Seward insisted, a heaviness in his tone, "the others ... " An exhale, sharp and uneasy, as he stretched a bit. A tiny, relieved moan. The sound of fur rustling against sheets. As well as fur on fur. His bare foot-paws bumped...
Welcomed
The lighting in the small, screen-filled room was a dim, soothing blue. And it made Talkeetna's fur look darker than it actually was. "Have you turned off the devices? Lowered the magnetic field?" "Yes," was the simple, soft reply from Mariposa....
Doxology
A squirrel's pride and joy was their tail. "i normally spend an hour a day," she admitted, "grooming my tail. licking it, combing it, shampooing it ... antioch says it's fine. he strokes it, sniffs it.
Empty Nest
"I'm ... I'm having trouble moving," was the soft, squeaky sound. Unmistakably a mouse's tone. Accompanied by static, interspersed with patches of silence. The sound of a voice being piped through a tiny comm-system. "These boots are heavy." A...
What I Know
A wine glass was to the cinnamon-furred squirrel's lips. a dainty, dainty sip, sloshing it around in her maw. "mm?" she went, before she swallowed. she was, perhaps, feigning some degree of innocence.
Piece of Glass
"Can't believe that I did it again ... Wake me up from this nightmare. Cause this monster's wasting me away and taking my days." The mouse was on his side. In bed. Groggy and cold (so cold) and not knowing the time. Not caring, really,...
Personifying the Sun
"I feel like a ... mouse on a wheel," he said, blinking, rubbing his eyes. "Don't." "What?" He blinked. Frowned. Looked to her. "Don't rub your eyes," she whispered. "It'll only irritate them more." Still wearing the frown, Field...