Minnow
A SILENT DROP OF OCEAN

The stranger’s affirmative answer to her question was the first thing in this strange world that had given Minnow hope. It wasn’t so cold she couldn’t deal with it if there was a way home. She could get back to the ker who mattered to her. Momentarily she lost her composure once again as the excitement welled up within her and tears threatened to spring up. What would happen if she did cry in this cold? Would they turn to the white wet stuff she’d been forced to walk through earlier? Those flakes had turned to cold raindrops on her skin? Did that mean that here tears might magically turn to white stuff as well? She hadn’t noticed before when she’d been crying, but she had been too distracted with finding her way to notice much of anything.

However, the excitement waned as the strange but familiar man put off the directions for food. Although her hunger gnawed at her, Minnow wanted to get home more than she wanted to eat, particularly with the weird smells that were coming from what seemed to be food stalls. Few spices were used in the swamp, and what was used was typically for masking old or rotting meats rather than to flavor something that was fresh or to add dimension to a dish. Food was fuel at home, and took effort to catch. Seasoned foods commonly came at the end of the winter when stores were running low, or when hunters were preparing to have new tads and couldn’t go out to catch fresh game. The thought of eating whatever it was that needed to have such strong spices covering it up made Minnow’s stomach curl, but she took the man’s hand anyway and followed him.

Where he led had few of the smells that the other carts had, and although it looked different from what she was used to, being all rolled together into bite-sized pieces, she could recognize the ingredients. Rice and fish and some sort of plant. Still she couldn’t communicate to the vendor.

It didn’t seem necessary to communicate however, as her guide held his hand out and golden disks appeared from nowhere. The man swiped the disks away greedily and with a few grunts and other sounds, passed several of his fish-rice bites to the guide as well, who then passed them to Minnow who ignored any sort of decorum or sign of being older than a 5 year old and began to stuff the food into her mouth. Never had she considered mixing normal food together in such a way, but it was tasty and salty and smooth and fresh and she was content to wander behind the man eating as he spoke about who the strange tailless people were.

Minnow wasn’t sure she’d ever heard of fairies before. Most stories told to tads were about warriors and hunters, about great feats and wolf-conquerors and amazing tales of aja working their magic in battle. Minnow’s favorites had been about Twig and her aja defeating a whole pack of wolves. It was likely embellished, but Minnow never cared. She idolized the ker in Birch’s stories. Minnow’s mouth remained too full to answer the man’s question about her identity until after he’d told her about the magic of the world, and Minnow tried to remember what she might have been so troubled by that she ended up here with no one else in her family. Even the refugees hadn’t come to this place. Perhaps she was the only ker too scared to hold their ground, even if it was a subconscious retreat.

Food gone and mouth clear, Minnow finally found the space to speak again, although she wasn’t sure she wanted to give her name. It might cast some shame on her clan if everyone knew she’d ended up fleeing to another planet magically, without even bringing her aja with her.

“Minnow,” she mumbled. “My name’s Minnow.” She looked at the ground and then back at the man as he broke more news to her. “I’m not afraid…” she told him, straightening her back and twisting her tail, tensing herself as any warrior would. “I’m not afraid.” She said the words again, more confidently. But the finally bombshell blew all the wind from her sails.

“Other ker?!”