The Odd, the Furry, and the Speckled (ePub)

“Um, hello nice bird,” Willow began. “I don’t mean to startle you from your pretty purring, but I’m lost and I’m trying to get back home. I’m in the middle of a very serious emergency so if you could help me that would be ever so nice. Do you happen to know the way to Willow Creek? I heard that some of its humans pass through here to get home.” There was no response. “Oh please Mr. Bird, I’m so cold and wet and tired. And you have to help me because there’s a human child in danger, and she’s in even worse shape than me!” So please, I’m begging you, please help me.” Willow finally saw movement from the bird. Without moving its body an inch, it slowly began to turn its head around. But unlike humans and varmints, where there is a point where their heads stop turning, it’s never did. It kept turning and turning until its head was perfectly in the center of its back. Willow screamed and dashed away as fast as she could. Willow had good reason to panic, and not just because of its horrifying head, it was because of the look in its eyes. It had been drilled into her in boot camp to pick out that particular expression in any species, and that look was ‘bloodthirstiness,’ or at the very least, varmint thirstiness. That look could get a varmint gobbled up real quick if they’re not speedy on their feet.

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