Chased by the Wolf -- Short-shorts

Chased by the Wolf -- Short-shorts

A Story by Sparrow
"

This is a situation in my newest story, Chased by the Wolf, about Molly Moppet, the Moppet son, and Cecil Hermann, the poor chump hired to serve and amuse this insane mistress who is rather dangerous when she's bored.

"

     "Come along, now. We haven't a day's waste," barked the petite mistress, her bright yellow cat eyes glowing. Cecil was aware this wouldn't be good, but to dally while she stood over him as he ate oats and cream made him assume she wouldn't allow him to escape from this activity she planned. Of course, he found he assumed correctly. "Don't give me that look. It'll be fun."

     Cecil swallowed his oats and dabbed his mouth, but looked back once more. "Why do I sense it includes a chasergun and those blasted weighted shots?" he inquired.

     Molly folded her arms and regarded him crossly. "What fun is it when you guess? Trish and Edmund are coming as well, although I suspect they are trying to force you grab yourself a girl, for I overheard them talking --"

     "You were eavesdropping?"

     "-- and every time they said your name they followed with some girl's name. Maggie, or Martha, something very classic Gaian."

     Cecil ran his fingers through his hair with a dull expression. "Or maybe Molly," he added in annoyance. Molly stared down at him like a cat eyeing a ball of yarn.

     "There is another Molly in Chasertown?" she asked.

     Cecil pulled out his pocket watch and shook his head. He needed something to distract him so he didn't look into those large yellow orbs and spill all his mind dwelled on. "No, Molly, they mean you."

     Molly was dumbstruck, but amused, which meant she had a plan, or some sort of idea that she shouldn't have. "Really?" she stressed, pacing with a grin. Cecil put his pocketwatch in his vest and took hold of his tea. "There is one problem with that ploy."

     "And that is?" Cecil asked. He wasn't really paying attention, but something inside him sparked at the last comment she made.

     "I'm a female biologically, but in taking on the 'son' title, I can't even grown out my hair without getting into trouble. They said I am not allowed to grow out my hair, wear dresses, skirts and the like, bear children, or do anything like a girl would. I am not allowed to be a fine lady, but a fair gentleman. I can't marry. If I give into any of these 'temptations' I will be shunned to the forest to be sacraficed to the chasers." Molly shook her head. "And no one calls me Molly. The town isn't allowed to or else they too will be shunned to the forest."

     Cecil noticed her sudden demeanor vacated to a dulled pain that swallowed the room. She turned to him with a smile, despite her anger and sadness.

     "Only father could call me Molly. And now, you. Aren't you happy? You have immunity to the punishment," she muttered. "I couldn't even cry. They told me that boys don't cry as easy, and every time I cried they whipped me. Now I'm not sure I can cry anymore." Her fists clenched. "When I dispose of the Lupo I'm going to slam my fist into Jerkins' fat bucked teeth and show him a woman's wrath against a man's idiocy." Her fist slammed into the table, making the other side all the way down the way fly up. Her strength was inhuman, truly a taboo trait. The talbe began growing leaves and braches where her fist hit.

     "I only hope a tree doesn't grow in his mouth and tear him in two," Cecil muttered with surprise etched on his face.

     Molly's cheerful demeanor returned. "I do. He's the reason I am niether man nor woman, and I want him to spit leaves for years. Preferrably twenty-one years, to make up for the years he shaped me into this... this... beast, this barabaric, brutish..."

     "Oh stop it, Molly. You aren't a beast," Cecil uttered. "You are beautiful -- er, dutiful. Yes, dutiful and trustworthy."

     Molly's eyes widened. "You like me, don't you Cecil? And I thought you weren't a dangerous thinker, but here you are, dreaming about biting into the fobidden fruit of Chasertown," Molly exclaimed.

     Cecil nearly jumped out of his skin. Tea splattered his lap and chest. "Wait, hold on a minute. What are you saying, you nonsensical girl?"

    Molly grinned. "You do, you are denying it. Everyone knows denying it only makes you a likelier suspect," she cooed, placing her hands on her hips. "Cecil Hermann is in love with the renowned Molly Moppet, the Moppet son!"

     Cecil stood up with anger dressing his face. "Stop that, Molly. You are burrying me here," he snapped.

     Molly folded her arms again. "Admit it. I've caught you," she teased.

     Cecil gritted his teeth. "Fine, you fine result of a cow, I now admit this crime of mine. I'm in love with a young tree, I the wolf forever guarding it despite the fact that it will grow bigger and stronger than I one day and I will no longer be needed. And when that day comes, this wolf will be stuck in that crummy office in Artinsi and you will be avenged," he groaned from the depths of his throat. He gripped her wrist. "Until then, you will be chased by the wolf. Pursued, if I may."

     "Cecil, are you trying to challenge me?" she asked him.

    "I am merely saying that once you kill Lupo you no longer need me. I am a servant and entertainer, and as so I do all to protect you, as under my contract. So, I will stand beside you until I see your doppelganger fall at your feet."

    Molly recieved a slight kiss on the back of her neck as he reached around. Her eyes widened. "Why worry about the forest, after all? Taboo used to be called naturechildren, right? Naturechildren can talk to animals, reason with them. I do not fear the forest, and niether should you," he whispered against her skin. "It brings you closer to Lupo." He released her. "Good luck, Molly."

© 2009 Sparrow


Author's Note

Sparrow
This is just an idea, it won't go into the real thing unless I confirm it.

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this is an excellent piece of writing! i might have to go and read the rest of it so i know what's actually going on! you are skilled with a pen (or in this case a keyboard)! i give you mucho kudos for this, thanx for sharing and definently keep writing!!!!!!!!

Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on August 29, 2009

Author

Sparrow
Sparrow

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I'm an average teenage girl. Except, I love to write. My favorite story has to be Oscar Wilde's The Nightingale and the Rose and my favorite type of stories to read are the fantasy thrillers, dashes o.. more..

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A Story by Sparrow