És, Scén
_So, here's a story from my archives. I wrote it quite a time ago, and since I don't think that I'm gonna publish it anywhere else, I do here.
Well, obviously it's meant to be a filler... sorry... Working on Keith'n'Matt 2 and Corwin's story... oh... and there's still Aaron left... so sorry for that, now you have this, enjoy!
I apologise in advantage for all grammar and spelling mistakes.
Also, this story contains no blatant yiff, but some small sexual hints. Plus, it is part of my Nílan world, so the story contains many words from their language. Questions to me, no worries.
Und nun zu unserem Hauptfilm..._
"Mél! Mél! Stósh, where is that girl again..."
"Well, Mum, as I heard, she's with a friend, working on a project or something."
"Project, project, what project is that supposed to be?" Fánesc closed the door again. "Hah, when she's not keen on my food, she can go without it."
"I wish I could go without it," Scén mumbled.
"Did you say anything?" Fánesc asked and put the bowl onto the table, rather angrily.
"Nothing at all."
They sat down, took some pieces, chewed them, kept silent. Scén never dared to say, but her mother's cooking abilities were rather bad. It was possible to swallow what she made, but it was not possible to enjoy it. Too little spice, not washed enough, and so on. Sometimes she left it too long in the pan and the taste had faded, sometimes Scén could feel the dirt in her teeth, stuff like this. On good days Scén was earlier on the stove and the food quality was way better. Oh, Scén couldn't blame her sister for running away from those vegetables, they were weak and far overcooked.
"Would be better if you drive to the city tomorrow. Three of the Rálascachi are sick and we need to get them away before they infect the others."
"Yes, Mum."
"And when you're there, you can get some juice, Sráme and someone for the next nights."
Oh, and that was another thing Scén didn't like about her mother, her traditional views. Scén was supposed to learn how to hunt as she was only four. As she had been six, her mother has dropped her in the grasslands and she was supposed to find her way back, and of course survive until she arrived at the mountains. Stósh, Scén had been so lucky that someone there had been so kind to drive her home before all power had left her body.
And her mother always treated the males like a thing you borrow from someone, use and then give back. And it was annoying, because Scén had always to bring them, feed them, take care of them, while her mother did all this stuff with them. Oh, it was not that Scén wasn't interested in it. Just not with males. Another thing her mother didn't like at all, so her mother didn't know it.
"Stósh, it's getting dark. Better you go over to her friends and get her back here."
"Yes, Mum."
Oh, yes, no freedom for your kids. What could happen if Mél spent a night with her friends? Maybe she could learn about more important things than hunting, breeding and farm work, how terrible. She was five, so why not letting her having her fun?
Scén will pretend she hadn't found her, use the opportunity to walk around in the neighbourhood and over the fields in the night. Oh, if her mum found out who she's meeting sometimes...
She quickly swallowed the rest of her portion. Those Zhéntechi were almost liquid. Then she stood up, took the bowl, washed it quickly, put it to the others and left the house without another word.
Wonderful air. The summer was about to come, and she could smell it. It was the smell of the grass which prepared for spreading its seed soon. It was the aroma of the pheromones of the Rálascachi and Scántichi which will start their breeding circle in one week or less, actually not a very pleasant smell, which was about getting worse when the animals start their reproductions.
Scén went quickly over the dusty street. It was a straight street, beginning at the main street, leading from the mountains to Nárch, and ending at another street, leading to the shore and some villages. From time to time Scén drove there to get fresh fish when they all were in the mood for it.
The next house was the farm of Sélen and her young daughter. Scén liked Sélen, her daughter and the farm. They only had vegetables, huge fields of them, and that had a reason. They were vegetarians. And, surprise, that was another thing Fánesc didn't like. And she seemed to fear her daughters would take it over, as if I was a infectious disease. But Scén could almost bet her sister was there. So she went the kilometre to there. The lights were on, somebody was home. She knocked on the door.
Sélen opened, wiping her paws with a cloth. "Oh, scishkí, Scén. You here for your sister?"
"Just checking. Mum wants her home, stósh, you know her."
"She barely talks to me. So you want her back?"
"No, she can stay here. She should just find a very good excuse, maybe something with hunt. What are they doing?"
"It's strange, but they invented a new board game. Oh, they're so lovely."
"I bet. By the way, I'll be driving to the city tomorrow, something I can get you?"
"Nothing, although some Sráme is never wrong." Sélen smiled. "But if you could take our harvest with you...?"
"Pretty early for a harvest."
"Only two sacks. Was necessary."
"Alright. See you tomorrow then." Scén waved, and turned to go.
"Have a nice night." Sélen said, smiled again and closed the door.
Scén watched the shadows in the windows of the upper floor and smiled to herself. Then she just turned right, over the empty grass fields they will use not before next year. She couldn't see the city over there, but she could see the light it emitted, enlightening the cloudless sky.
She went to the trees, three lonely trees in the middle of the huge enclosure and sighed out loud.
"It's a warm night," she heard a void saying. "You shouldn't wear pants."
"Sorry, Néley, don't have much time."
A girl jumped out of the tree, rolled and patted the dust out of her fur. "That's a pity, a real pity." Néley put her arms around Scén's shoulders and licked over her forehead. "Not even a minute?"
"Sorry to disappoint you. But we can walk a bit."
"That's okay." They went through the grass, slowly.
"Did you notice that the sky is still cloudless?"
Néley nodded. "Hmm... I am a bit worried, you know. In one month it could get problematic."
"We already had a dry summer start. Last summer."
"But not that cloudless. The Scántichi need a lot of water, as well as the Zhénthechi and Rónhachi."
Scén looked at Néley. She was ten, one year younger than Scén, but had a farm of her own. Néley had overtaken it three years ago, as her grandmother, who was taking care of the land, died in an accident. Néley's mother had hated the country, but she didn't mind her daughter to live here, even all on her own, with an age of seven years. The first year had been difficult, Scén had helped her a lot. And as they worked together, they had realised there was more than their thing for country life which connected them. And even Scén's mother had liked the girl, she wasn't spoilt, liked to hunt and took care of the land. Only about what Scén and Nérey were doing when the work was done they had never told her, and they won't.
"If you need the lake, no problem, you know that."
"Don't understand me wrong, I'll try to make it on myself. I can't run to you as soon as I see a problem on the horizon."
"Oh, you can run to me even if it's reasonless."
Néley couldn't suppress a chuckle. Suddenly she stopped and her ears perked. "Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"Listen."
Scén listened carefully. She didn't need to close her eyes, it was almost completely dark, only the lights of the buildings behind her were enlightening the perfect night. And a broad smile filled her face. "The Scántichi started their breeding work."
"Yeah... isn't that a sign for us?"
"I am so sorry, but it's time for me to go back before mum gets irate."
"I understand. Oh, I remember, when we fell asleep on the fields..."
"It was a deep wound, even if she wanted it that way."
"You should go away from there."
"It's not easy. I mean, even if I move to you, what's with Mél? I can't leave her alone with mum's wrath. And your farm isn't in a safe distance."
"That's true. It bugs me though."
"I must be going. Oh, I could pick you up for the city tomorrow."
"I need to watch over the animals, you know that. Especially now they need to be watched."
"Yes." Scén leaned over and licked over Néley's forehead. "Have a good night."
"I'll try."
And they turned into opposite directions.
Scén woke up as the first ray of the day was touching her muzzle. She turned some times, decided she had slept enough, put her feet onto the wooden ground and yawned long. She opened the window to let the aromas of a summer morning into her room and saw her little sister wandering home over the street. Scén waved and left her room.
There was a room for her sister, the compulsory bathroom, her mother's bedroom and two empty rooms, at the moment filled with some stuff they never needed anymore and could as well bring to the city. But their mother said anything can be useful again and so on. The rooms are actually reserved for Scén's children. But as it seems, they would be empty for a longer time, until Mél would be old enough. Or maybe they will be empty for ever.
She took the steps down, her mother was still asleep. She hoped Mél had thought of a good excuse, or she was in for more than just a slap. Fánesc was very creative with punishments.
Mél entered the first floor, went through the room and put a Rálasc onto the table. "Was on a hunt," she declared. Dry blood was all around her muzzle and even on her chest.
"One of ours?"
"No, a sick one of Néley. She said she wouldn't mind."
"Had fun yesterday?"
"We can play the game if you want. Now let me go upstairs, I need to get rid of my pants."
"Don't wash the blood off."
"I'm young, not stupid."
Scén smiled, went to the table and wondered if she or her sister should cut it apart. Her mother would want her younger daughter to do it, and yesterday she seemed already a bit angry, so better not doing anything to make it worse.
Mél came back, naked now. She stretched. "So, I'll be making a quick run and then care about the prey."
"Okay," Scén said and watched her sister leave the house. She liked her sister, as much as a sister could like the other. Maybe Mél was somehow strange, different than other children her age, but that could be the upbringing of her mother which had trained her mind to sneak around punishments. As creative Fánesc was with punishments, as creative Mél was with excuses. Right now she was not only running for training, but also for smelling as if she had just done a lot of strain to catch the prey. Clever. Unfortunately, Scén hadn't always been that clever and lost a lot of fur over the years.
She switched the screen on to catch the newest weather forecast, although she knew it was senseless. One look into the sky and she could tell the same as the highly trained girls in the city. No rain. Not today, not tomorrow. As on the screen. She sighed. Well, there was still some room. Some more weeks they would be able to go with the water in the lake. Now Scén could see why Sélen had already brought some of her vegetables into safety.
Mél came back, carrying a strong odour into the room.
"Oh, rolled in mud too?"
"I'm thorough," Mél answered, went to the kitchen corner and looked for the knife. "Want some blood?"
"Always."
Mél took a bowl, slit the Rálasc open and let all of the red liquid flow into it. She took a little bit to refresh the bloody stains on her chest. Then she handed the bowl over to her sister. "Not all, I want Mum to get something too."
Scén sipped. Pretty fresh. And good.
And their mother came soundly down the stairs. They both went into their mother-friendly mood. And Fánesc reacted as their had figured and went to Mél.
"Where have you been?"
"I am so sorry, Mum, really, I was on a hunt... and I think I got carried away. Look, this one slipped out of my grip and I followed. As you always say, Mum, I didn't give up until I had it. But then I was about eight kilometres away and it was dark and so on. I'm sorry. I slept on the field." Good story, Scén admitted.
Fánesc looked over the now skinless prey. "Make a good breakfast out of it," she grunted. Then she left the house to take her morning bath in the lake.
As she was out the girls sighed in relief. They didn't know if she had fallen for it, but they got away with it at least. Mél cut three of the four legs off to fry them.
"I'll be going to the city today. Shall I get you anything?"
"Pén told me Shén Fál had made a new collection of songs. If you don't mind to take a look...?"
"No problem at all, Sis, you know me."
"Thanks."
They ate breakfast, and it was much better than Fánesc' stuff. Scén didn't know if her mother tastes the difference, but even if she would realise that even her daughters were better in cooking than she was, she would it never admit it.
Right after the meal, Scén got the truck ready. It was a very simple one, with a huge and dividable loading area, and a comfortable, yet small cockpit. Since she had been six Scén was driving it around, to the city, to the grasslands, to home. And she liked it, although it had some smaller mistakes, due to its age. The seats had seen better days, the paint was leaving, the engine had problems with the converting sometimes. But it had worked all the years before. And will some more years.
They hunted down the three sick Rálascachi, it was easy, they were slow. They had just to scare the herd away, and then overwhelm the others and kill them with a quick bite into the neck.
Scén put the dead bodies onto the loading area. One of them was still bleeding, but that was not a problem. She quickly washed off the blood on her muzzle and chest and got ready for the trip.
"Try to be back before sunset," Fánesc said.
"Yes, Mum." Stósh, her Mum didn't need to see how she picks up the vegetable from their direct neighbours. It was strange, the three farms were directly next to each other, the next house was three kilometres away, but Fánesc seemed not to be very keen on talking to people being slightly different than herself, even if they were the only ones around. Fortunately Fánesc was again walking behind the house, to the fields.
"Sáshkal, Mél."
"Sáshkal, Sis. Take care."
"As always."
"It'd be better if you give the cassette to Pén, by the way."
"Yeah, I know." Scén started the engine, waved and drove down the street. "Sélen!"
"Comin', comin', everything prepared."
"Just swing it onto the area."
"Hmm... well, get some Sráme. And..."
"And?"
"A nice guy for me and Pén."
"I don't think you'd use the same as my Mum."
"Don't understand me wrong... and by the way, I don't 'use' him, really."
"Sorry, my Mum's term. Stósh. No worries."
"So, sacks are secured. Poor animals..."
"You have to understand, they were about to die anyway."
"Girl, you don't need to justify yourself. Not to me, at least. Now go."
"See you. Sáshkal." Scén hit the speed lever.
Yes, the big city. Nárch. It was different, yet only sixty kilometres from her home. It's hard to tell the actual border. Once the city was growing extremely, during the industrial discovers, already three hundred years ago. Now it was even shrinking, the people are moving to the desert, big lands, freedom and warmth. But even Scén didn't want to live there.
There was a small district of stores, almost all farmers brought their stuff there. She braked her truck there and got out.
"Umm... Scishkí."
A girl came from the storage hall. "Scishkí, Scén, stósh, good to see you."
"Heh. How're you, Pélin?"
"Good, good, kids are fine, job is fine, grandmother died."
"What? Oh, I am sorry, Pélin..."
"Nah, she was a good girl, and I thank Scánish I was to know her."
"Still..."
"Better to keep her in good memory and get on with life. She would have wanted that." Pélin clapped her paws. "So, what have you for me?"
"Well, three Rálascachi. We had to get her out of the herd, they had this disease, you know."
"Hmm... it is strange, get a lot of them recently. Sounds like a spreading problem."
"I hope not."
They went around the truck and Pélin took a look at the bodies. "Just killed?"
"One hour ago. They're alright, freeze them now."
"I think I already got someone for them. Oh, what's in the sacks?"
"Some vegetables. Rónhachi I think, a lot of them."
"That's a bit early."
"Sélen assumed them as alright."
"Sélen knows her business, that's for sure. Oh, now they're here, can take them as well."
"Yes," Scén said and helped Pélin and another girl to carry the sacks into the hall.
Then Pélin took the bodies. "Smell fresh. Tasty."
"In three weeks or four we can sort out many, they're finished with breeding them."
"I'll be here as always."
"Yes."
"Thank you very much. Have a great day in the city."
"I always have. Sáshkal."
"Sáshkal."
And she drove on, until she saw the atelier. Could she just ask directly? She braked the truck, got out and knocked. A girl opened, about fifteen, naked and with many dyed markings all over her body. Not a bad body, Scén had to admit.
"Yeah? Oh, hey."
"Umm... are you Shén Fál?"
"Hehe. What's the matter, country girl?"
"To be honest... my sister is a big fan of yours." Was it that obvious that she was a country girl? Maybe it were the blue, bloody and dirty pants, and the missing of a shirt.
"Yeah... wanna come in?"
"Oh... can I?"
"Stósh, I'm a girl as every else. Come in and we can talk a moment."
Three and half an hour later, Scén left the atelier again, with a new cassette with some songs and an exclusive autograph. And with a pleasant memory of that nice girl. Better not to tell her sister what had been going on in there, Scén had no idea how Mél would react, no idea at all. But it had been nice, and now she would rather need a shower.
Only some metres away was the bar. Or one of the bars. There were males, waiting for a girl to take them home with her. They had no own home, no jobs, nothing. They had only that bit at their crotch, and using that was their job. One time, as she had been six, Scén had had a male, her first and probably last one. He had worked the entire night, but somehow it wasn't working with her. It had worked with Néley, later.
She entered. And she had been always shy in here. But there were some guy available, she decided the most direct way.
"Umm... Scishkí, boys. Anyone want a trip to the country?"
They turned. "Sit down. Have a drink."
"Oh, sorry, have more to do. Just need two for about... well, a week? It's a nice environment and great food."
"Wow, two? Someone's very greedy here."
"Or kinky." The guys laughed.
"No, it's for my mum. And a friend and her daughter."
"I see. Can I just sip up my drink?"
"Yeah."
The guy poured it up into his throat. Another one nodded and stood up. "Oh, wanna take a look first?" He was about to open his pants.
"No, it's okay, really."
"Alright."
"My car's out on the other side of the street. You'll see it, it's the one looking like country."
"I can drive, if you want to..."
"I already had my portion today, and I'm not in males."
The guys nodded and followed her outside.
"A pity," one whispered. "She's got a really cute tail."
"The best are always either kinky or in girls."
"Hmmm..."
She braked the car again. "Is that one new?"
"Pretty new."
"Excuse me a moment." Scén left the truck and went to the open store. It seemed very new, it was a Sráme maker. It was the first floor of a building, they seemed to have removed one wall.
She looked over the counter. A girl turned and smiled. "Hey, country girl."
"Okay, I give up, is it because of the pants?"
"It's the whole impression of you. Dirty pants, no shirt, not brushed fur. But doesn't matter, do you want anything special?"
"Well, I'm pretty confused, I always thought Sráme is Sráme."
"Oh, well, my mum thought that'd be too boring, and we invented some other stuff."
"Wow... oh, well, a package of the vegetarian."
"Oh, you vegetarian?"
"No, for a friend. Oh... with Ránhachi? I bet she'd like it. But then three packages of the usual one..."
"One moment." The girl behind the counter turned and worked. Scén caught herself staring at her tail. This was going too far recently, she needed to have herself under control. "There you go," the girl said, put all the packages onto the counter and smiled.
"Oh, thank you," she smiled back and decided it'd be the best to leave before she just leaned over and licked the girl's forehead.
The girl watched Scén leave and shook her head. "Stósh, she's cute."
"Don't make up any hopes, honey," her mother in the backroom said. "The country gals are always traditionalists."
"I know, I know... a shame."
Scén drove the truck over the asphalted street. She had grabbed some juice as well and took a sip. "Well, one of you must go with my mum, I'm sorry for that."
"Oh, no worries, over the years I met a lot of mean girls."
"Just wanted to warn you." She turned to the dusty street, next to the first farmhouses. This one was the house of Astér, a very good friend of her mother. They had the same opinions and views. It's just good that Astér can't get any babies due to an accident with her truck once. Although Scén didn't want to wish that to anybody, but the children of Astér wouldn't ever become happy in their life as long as their mother lived.
But their house was about five kilometres away. She slowed the truck down, she didn't want to be back that fast, and the street wasn't all that good. But finally she arrived in front of Sélen's house. "Okay, that's the house of my friend. Umm... here, take the package and this cassette and just knock."
The male smiled. "Sáshkal, Miss." And so he left.
Scén took the last fife hundred metres, parked the truck and got out.
"You're quite late," her mother greeted her.
The noise was annoying. Scén could imagine better things than listening to her mother having fun with a male. Mél had this mobile music device, and could even sleep with the music in her ears, but Scén needed silence. Way after midnight the noises stopped and she could get her sleep finally.
Late in the morning Scén stood up. She felt strange. There was a headache starting, and she felt the urge to run out to Néley, or anyone, the next moment. Hard to fight. She groaned as she realised it was about time for her annual heat. Wonderful time for it, stósh. If she knew her body correctly, it would get unbearable next week.
She stood up, feeling her usual dizziness in the morning, went to the bathroom and threw some water into her face. Then she went downstairs.
The male sat on a chair, looking sadly at a place between his feet. Scén turned her head and saw her mother on the couch, glaring at her.
"Sit down, daughter."
"Mum, what..."
"Sit down."
Scén swallowed and sat down in the armchair, looking into the angry face of her mother.
"I really, really hope that male had lied," her mother started. "I don't want my daughter, my own daughter, being a girl-snuggler and an insult for Scánish. Tell me he lied."
Scén looked over the guy, who gave her an apologising look back. He wasn't to blame, Scén had told him to much, and he was just a male and didn't know it better. She wondered what to tell her mother now. She could lie right now, but sooner or later her mother would find out, and after a lie her punishment will be even worse. She could tell her the truth, maybe she could even get some time to justify herself before her mother would burst.
"I'm waiting, Scén."
Why was she trying to do what her mother want? Why did she lie to herself? Scén swallowed again, took a deep breath and opened her mouth. "He didn't lie."
Shock in her mothers eyes. The anger was filling her mind. Her own daughter was an insult, an offence to everything she believed, to nature, to Scánish. "Daughter, you will go to your room now. And you will take Naí here with you."
What was her mother trying to do? Did her mother just think it was a thing about spite, that she was just doing that to make her mother angry or anything? "No, mum, I won't."
Now Fánesc stood up and slapped her hard into the face. "You will! Right now!"
It hurt very much. But Scén was not willing to do what her mother wanted. Not this time. Not today. That was over now. Scén was not willing to betray what she was. "No, mum, I won't." Another hard slap against the other side of her muzzle. Her mother almost never cut her claws. "No, mum, I won't."
Now Fánesc was about to explode. "Scén, I can't accept that." She stepped closer. "I can't accept that, Scén. I'm still your mother, you're living in my house. And I can't accept you to be that disrespectful to me, to your sister and, even worse, Scánish. You will go up with that male, and even if I have to watch you."
Scén tasted blood on her tongue. "You can't make me."
Fánesc slapped again, scratching over her daughter's face. "I've born you! I've carried you in my pouch for seven months! How can you do that to me!"
Now Scén stood up. "What do you think, that I just do that to annoy you? It is the way I am, mother, I can't help it!"
"Hah! I think, you're ready once more for the chamber."
"Oh, and you think that'll help?"
"We'll see, dear daughter," Fánesc said and seized her daughters neck rudely.
A couple of metres behind the house was the old barn. It was used for the animals in winter, they could spend the nights here when it was too cold for them. But now, in Summer, it was empty. It was made of steel and actually pretty stained. Back in there was the chamber, there they could isolate aggressive males from the herd, if necessary.
Or to isolate defiant girls. It was a small room, with a very small window, letting a little bit light into it. It could get very hot during the day and icy cold in the nights. There was a lock, and no way to get out. Scén had spend many days in here. The actual torture was the boredom, or 'much time to think about your deed', as her mother had called it. In the chamber was nothing at all to distract himself, only the stained walls and the small gab between the ground and the door. But nothing happened there, nothing was there to look at, only her and her thoughts.
Some years ago Scén had found a way to distract herself by stroking herself, but her mother found out, and since then she always tied up her arms and tail. Loneliness and boredom. The chamber was the one of the worst punishments Fánesc had available.
And so Scén sat in there, banging her head against the steel, tied up and feeling her insides boiling. It was hot, the two suns let her warmth into the small room, and although she was naked her fur saved it up and made everything even worse.
Scén didn't know what her mother expected. That she just started to like males because she had the time to think over it? Scén didn't feel any regret. It was right. She didn't want to do what her mother wanted, she wanted to do what she wanted. Sounded stupid, but she wasn't willing to do anything to make her mother happy. That was over now. There was no punishment bad enough to break her mind. Her thoughts turned in circles. Maybe there was spite now. Mere spite against her mother.
Now she had a headache and stopped banging. And she was thirsty, very thirsty. Her nose was dry, her throat was dry, the only thing which was not dry was her crotch. Wonderful timing, just during her heat, and no way to stimulate herself in anyway, it was driving her insane.
Scánish... yes, it had been bugging her once. She didn't why, but many, many nílans believed Scánish was against girls like her, girls liking other girls. Scánish had made the girls and the males, and she expected them to snuggle with each other, for fun and children. But girls with girls... that was completely against nature, and against Scánish.
But there was another thing about it... Scánish was controlling her surface. She made everybody, everything and controlled them. Yes, her mother always claimed Scánish's wish came true, and nothing else. But, if that's true, Scánish had made Scén and Néley and some other girls liking each other, and not males. So why would she do that if she was against it? Just to screw up some lives? Had she fun doing that? No, Scén couldn't believe in a mean Scánish.
That way her thoughts moved, just to distract herself from her situation. But there was no way to get out of it, not right now. Either she or her mother had to give up. Well, she knew, no matter what her mother would do, she would never do what her mother want. So there were two ways out of this: Her mother would remember that Scén was still her daughter and that she couldn't do that to her own daughter, or... or Scén would... die here. She couldn't imagine that her mother would let her die, but she was so angry, so what could happen? Stósh!
The light in the room slowly turned orange. Scén could see a shadow in front of the door.
"Sis?"
Her throat was very dry, but she managed to speak. "Yeah?"
"She had the key in her pouch, sorry."
"It's okay."
"She'll come soon and give you water. I'm sorry."
"If she asks, you had no idea, yes? No need to drag you into this, Sis."
"Scén..."
"Go, go, it'll sort out."
"Scén..."
"Go!"
The shadow slowly disappeared. This was a thing between Scén and Fánesc, she didn't want Mél to get into it as well. Her sister didn't deserve any punishment. Not that young girl, who didn't do anything.
Some minutes later another shadow appeared. The door opened. Her mother glared upon Scén. "Well, had time to think?"
"A lot."
"That's good. Then stand up, the male is waiting for you."
Scén didn't move in the corner, but kept staring into her mother's eyes.
"I see. You need more time. Well, here is a bowl of water. I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe you get food then." Fánesc put the bowl onto the ground, slammed the door close and left.
Oh, yes, of course her mother hadn't untied her. The bowl was there, Scén moved to it. She had to put her muzzle in it and lap it up, like an animal. Her mother wanted to disparage her, to make her feel unworthy. This bowl was supposed to show Scén her grace, that she was so nice to give her daughter water, although she didn't deserve it at all.
But that didn't matter right now, Scén was lapping up the cool water thankfully until the bowl was empty. She was hungry. But there was no food for her. Tomorrow. Maybe.
She moved back into the corner and tried to find a comfortable position for sleeping. The longest time she had been here was two days and three nights, they had been horrible. It had been because she had forgotten to close the enclosure for the Scántichi... oh, no, no, it was her mother, she had forgotten to close the gate. But Fánesc would never admit that. Scén had just been the one to blame. And she dared to deny her fault, so she got tied up and put in here until she had admitted it.
Her arms hurt, as well as her tail and her shoulders, but she made it to sleep.
Her mother had been so graceful and had given her some meat for the next morning, as well as some juice and the chance to give up her defiant behaviour. But since there was no defiant behaviour, Scén didn't give up and ate the meat from the dirty floor.
Every day was even hotter than the previous. The night was icy, the floor hard and uncomfortable. It had been three days now. Three hard days, she was thirsty and hungry, the little bit of food and water wasn't enough.
In the middle of the fourth night, the door opened. There was Mél in the doorframe. She fell down onto her knees, crawled to her sister, hugged her and sobbed loudly, while untying Scén. Freed, Scén hugged back. "Sh... sh... calm down, Sis, calm down..."
"I'm so sorry, Scén, so terribly, utterly sorry, so sorry, forgive me, Scén, forgive me."
"Calm down. Tell me what happened."
"Mum put the key onto her drawer, I snuck in... but she caught me..." She sobbed out loud. "And... and... and... I think... I think I killed her."
Scén's eyes went wide, she stared into her sister's sad eyes. Then she stood up, and ran.
Mél went out of the chamber, locked it carefully and kicked the key through the gab under the door. Never somebody would get locked into it again.
Fánesc lay in the kitchen. The male was bent over her, pressing cloths against her stomach. Scén ran into the house. "What is with her?"
"She lost a lot of blood before I found her. She's unconscious, but still alive."
"We must get her to a medic. Stósh, the next one is in the city. Quick, help me, to carry her."
They lifted Fánesc up, carried her to outside to the truck. Mél stood there, glaring at her mother as they lifted her onto the loading area.
"Mél, go over to Sélen and Pén, I'll call you there," Scén said, got into the truck and hit the speed lever.
The truck moved over the asphalted street, at maximum speed. Scén had never demanded that speed from the old machine. But this was about seconds.
"She breathes shallowly. We're gonna lose her!" the male yelled.
"No!" It was already the maximum. More was impossible.
Finally the buildings. The small, completely blue house in the suburban area. She braked hard, got out and screamed. "Help! Somebody help me! Anybody! Help!"
And two girls ran out, medics, they ran out and to the truck. The male waved, Scén pointed to the loading area. They jumped onto the machine, squatted, lifted Fánesc' arm, did they stuff. And suddenly froze.
Hopefully Scén looked up, scare in her eyes. But the medic looked down and shook her head. Scén collapsed and cried.
Half an hour later, Scén sat in the house on a bad, the medics took care of all the bruises on her arms and tail, as well as the wounds and scars in her face, her mind was almost clear again. "Heh... I haven't even got a white shirt in my wardrobe..." She looked to the girl. "What was it? The stab... or was it me... or..."
"To be honest, the stab was very deep, going from her stomach to her lungs. We can't tell exactly, but the male pressed this cloth against the wound and she lay on her back, we assume she drowned in her own blood. I'm very, very sorry."
None of the medics had asked about the wounds, it wasn't their job. It was their task to take care of them, not to ask where they came from.
It was strange, but there was nothing in Scén's mind. As if it got blank. She couldn't feel sad or angry about it. The question whether it had been an accident or whether her sister knew what she had been doing, that didn't matter. Mél had just been so scared, she didn't want to get hit again, or worse, maybe tied up in her bed again and so on... and so she had taken the knife and stabbed. Probably she hadn't intended to kill her, only to stop her. It had worked, Fánesc will never move again. And Scén could cry for her anymore.
"Can I do a call from here?"
"Of course, just wait a moment, I'm finished in a bit."
If she just would stop stroking the tail, Scén thought, it was disturbing her bad mood and didn't get along very well with her heat. She waited patiently until she could go to one of the small screens. Her sister's face appeared.
"Mél? Mél... I'm sorry..."
"She's dead, isn't she?"
"I'm afraid, yes."
No emotion in the little girl's face, nothing. "Come home. We must give her back."
The male had decided to stay in the city, he needed not only one drink after that. Scén borrowed a white shirt from the medics, as well as a while cloth she spread over the motionless body of her mother. She had died. Yes, there had been moments in her past Scén had wished that, but now, as this moment had come, she wished it had been otherwise.
She drove rather slowly. She thought about the future, what will happen now? Well, before sunrise they had to give the body back to Scánish. It would have been her mother's wish. Stabbed by her own daughter... no, maybe even Fánesc had deserved a punishment, but not death. Scén punched against the wheel several times. That wasn't fair. And still, she couldn't blame her sister at all.
The entire neighbourhood stood there, in front of their house. Wordless Scén got out, hearing to some sobs, opened the loading area and took the motionless and hidden body of her mother. Then she carried it slowly over the land, about three hundred metre behind the house, in front of the lake, under a tree.
They all surrounded the body, looking down at it. Everybody lit a match and said something good about the late girl. It wasn't much, to be honest, but there had been good deeds in her life. They were all mentioned. And then they thanked Scánish for her existence.
Then they waited there, waiting for sunrise. The sunrise came. Scánish took the body and the mind away to give it other uses. The crowd left the place.
The next day the rain came. It poured out of the sky as if Scánish was sieving an ocean. They had to bring the animals inside or at least to the enclosure on the hill.
Mél was letting Shén Fál sounding through the house, almost a joke with this weather. They never talked about this one day anymore.
Néley and Scén had decided to join their herds. It was too much work for ome person alone. And Néley had moved over.
Fánesc' bedroom got locked and never used again. They decided to keep her in memory, but not to talk about her. Because every time they had tried, they got somehow angry about her, and that was not fair, not even to Fánesc. Scánish's wishes can be very cruel to the others.
Scén and Sélen had decided to send the girl to the school in the city. Fánesc wouldn't ever have allowed Mél to, but that had changed. Mél could have a future out of the farms, there was no use to restrain her to the country. The two girls got an apartment and had to promise they really will visit the school. Scén knew she could trust her sister here.
One year later, Scén was lying in the grass and staring into the sky, she just wondered something. "Do you think she wanted to be that way?"
Néley looked up from Scén's crotch. "What?"
"Do you think mum wanted to do this to us?"
"She was your mother, she just wanted your best."
"Yes, probably. Maybe she had just a different opinion what was our best. Now go ahead."
"Yes, Miss."