Ice

Ice is a story Melpomene wrote, but left behind. She's Mel's Lost Story meaning she has been with her ever since, reminding Melpomene of her embarassing juvenile writing. Ice doesn't think it's embarassing.

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Did you know you could use a ceramic pot and a candle as a heating source, even under extreme cold? The heat concetrates on the pot instead of dispensing aimlessly, trying to cover a large area. Plus, the ceramic absorbs heat and works as a new, more powerful heat source than the candle. I learned this today. When my mother playfully balanced the pot we got from that gardening store in the morning, on top of some rocks and carefully placed a small candle underneath. The candle smelled of caramel. If we were at home we would have enjoyed this, along with the rest of its set. Mother's claws gestured me to crawl closer. She explained to me the heating source thing and I only half-listened, my mind too distracted by our current situation. Our lair has caved in. We were trapped. The rest of the adults of the clan were trying to dig a way out through the ice and debris, but most of us were smaller breeds. Faes, spirals, tundras and mirrors with me and mother being the largest, as a wildclaw family. But my mother alwasy had poor health and couldn't dig with the rest. Even now, as she called the rest of the hatchlings of the clan towards her to entertain them, I could see her hands shaking and her wings touching the ground.

The clan leader, a bulky tundra with curly fur, let out a shout as the pice of debris he was working on gave away under his claws and fell to his feet. After a short round of congratulations, a group of faes was tasked with trying to squeeze past the opening and call for help. Our hope was revitalized with this tiny hole. Only to be crashed again when the fae botanist took a look outside. A snow strom was raging on, with winds so strong she could hear the trees bend and crack against them and she thought it was night time, although we all knew we were still in the middle of the day when the sun should have shined the brightest. The fae looked to out leader for guidance on what to do. A tiny fae, even if she could squeeze past the hole, would not survive the deadly blizzard. Our leader shook his head. He was too kind to let her go. And as such, we waited for the storm to calm down, for the temprature to rise again with the help of my mother's kiln which only had a dozen of caramel-smelling candles to burn. When those were gone, we would have to make a decision again.

I can't tell how much time has passed before I decided to join the others digging around. My mother didn't say anything, but i knew that under normal circumstances she wouldn't agree with a hatchling such as myself doing such heavy work. But it was a special occasion. By now I was larger than a lot of the adult members of our clan, just from being lucky enough to be born a wildclaw in a clan full of faes and spirals. I was still smaller than the leader though. He towered over me, as I approached him to ask permission to use my larger and arguably stronger claws to dig through what used to be our beloved home. He didn't like that. A hatchling with developing bones like myself would get seriously damaged if a rock fell on them. Yes, faes and spiral were half my size, but they also had twice my speed. Not to mention they knew how and were to dig so the roof wouldn't collapse too. I stomped my foot and was about to make a scene, when mother tugged my tail and motioned me to sit beside her. No! I wanted to help! It was so cold in here, I could feel my reptilian blood slow down in my veins. It was easy for the leader to refuse my strength and size, he wasn't the one in danger on dying of hypothermia! He was a tundra! I bet he was more worried about starvation than my mother freezing to death.

The botanist fae took my side. She was also cold and tired of waiting for the storm to calm down, she would much rather take her chances out there than this frozen dump. I agreed with her, causing my mother to let out a yelp. I didn't look at her. If I were to, my confidence would waver and I wouldn't be able to get help for her. Reluctantly, several of the other members of the clan agreed, both adults and hatchlings they agreed to attempt to get out of here despite the storm. So we continued digging. The leader refused to participate. But he couldn't bring himself to stop us either. He hoped the ice and stones would be strong enough to resist our efforts, letting nature stop us intead of himself. Because that would mean he'd have to fight a hatchling. And he didn't want to lose the position he held within the clan.

The opening we dug was smaller than me. I'd have to really squeeze and thrust to get past it, but at least the botanist fae and the cook mirror would pull me from the other side, as they would be going first. After me, the rest of the "rebels" would follow as they wanted to say goodbye to their loved ones first. Mom wanted to come to. She didn't agree with our decision to face the storm, but she would never leave her daughter on her own. Despite her poor health, she'd follow me into the blizzard.

I got stuck. The fae and the spiral tried to pull me out, as I twisted and turned trying to set myslef free. I could hear my mother's voice behind me, but the wind was so loud out here I couldn't make out what she was saying. Maybe I was even imagining it. As I finally got out I heard a loud sound and turned behind me to look for my mother for explanation. She was gone. The thrusting, the pulling it had caused the entire thing to collapse, the cieling the walls, everything. I picked up the smell of blood immediatly.

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Perma-baby. Since she was never finished and Melpomene was really young when she started writing the story.