Kitten Eating Monster

Dindi (Spring Equinox Dawn)

The neko screeched. She was usually sweet, but seeing the other fae grab her human made her furious.

“Grab Berryface, Neko!” Dindi shouted.

Inspired, the neko flew at the Haw Berry Faery. Claws out! The other fae raised her tiny spear, but the neko pounced, bit her on the back of the neck, and flew off with her.

“Toss her in the air!” Dindi called.

The neko gave a happy cry and let the other fae go. She batted her with a paw.

“Save me! Save me!” squeaked Haw Berry as she flew through the air.

Old Man Green reached out his bony arm to catch the tiny fae. It was instinct.

As soon as his branchy hands let go of Dindi, she jumped from the tree to the ground. She rolled to stop herself from getting hurt—a trick she’d learned by watching the Tavaedies. She stood up fast and ran up the hill.

The leshy shook his fist at her. That made Haw Berry shake too. “Human girl! Get back here! I promised your mother!”

“I’ll tell her you tried!” Dindi shouted over her shoulder.

Higher on the mountain, the twisted oaks and pines gave way to gorse, grass, wide meadows, and rocky land. A few hills over was a lovely field of wildflowers. She liked to dance there, where only the fae could see her.

But this part of the mountain… she didn’t visit often.

This peak was lower but full of cracks, ledges, and holes. Dark dens and hidden places. And many, many rocks, which made it dangerous. Most were just rocks, but some were fae in disguise—camouflaged and waiting to bite.

The neko was getting tired. She stopped urging Dindi forward. She looked worn out, like flying took all her strength. Her face was tight with fear.

Dindi picked her up and carried her. The neko pointed which way to go.

Dindi came to Swan Rock, a huge boulder shaped like a swan. Its long “neck” looked out over the cliff over a lake far below. A white fir tree grew from a crack near the back, between two stone “wings.”

The dryad of the fir sat on the rock, slowly braiding her hair. She gave Dindi a cold look. But no one had bribed this fae to stop her.

The dryad ignored her.

Another windwheel spun from a branch of the fir. The wind turned its six colored petals in a blur. This was another Marker. It showed the edge of the Rainbow Labyrinth tribelands. Past this point, anyone from the clans could be attacked by Rovers or outtribers—and no one would stop it.

“It’s only a little further!” meowed the neko.

Then they both heard it.

A sharp mewing—terrified.

The neko jolted into the air and flew fast. Dindi had to run to keep up.

Morning still lingered, but gray clouds rolled over the sky. The sunny slope turned dark and cold.

The neko landed on a wide, tilted stone of granite. Her lavender skin had turned pale with fear. She trembled and pointed.

Dindi saw the monster, hiding in the shadow of a rocky ledge.

It wasn’t man or beast. It was something frightful and foul.

Its body looked like a goblin—green, mottled skin, covered in warts, with sharp ribs and a fat belly. Greenish fur covered its back and head. Its face had a long snout and eyes that glowed with eerie green light, like a wolf. It had claws on its hands and long chicken legs with talons. A sick green light shimmered around it—magic.

Grolwuf!

Dindi gasped and stepped back. Her stomach turned. Her body wanted to run.

Miaow!

At the monster’s feet lay a tiny kitten, helpless and shaking.

The grolwuf hissed. Its lips pulled back, showing too many sharp, yellow teeth. It hunched over the kitten. One claw raised to strike.

The kitten’s eyes were round with fear, its mew no more than a breath.

“Back away from the kitten and I won’t hurt you!” Dindi shouted.

The grolwuf turned its snout toward her. It snickered.

I should’ve brought a flint knife… or a bow! she thought. But it hadn’t crossed her mind. She wasn’t a warrior. She didn’t want to hurt anyone—not even a nasty fae.

But she would not let the monster hurt the kitten.

Dindi darted to the side. The grolwuf leapt at the spot she had just left.

She scrambled up a mossy ledge, covered with thorns and broken branches. She grabbed the biggest stick she could.

The grolwuf spun and leapt at her again.

She slammed the stick down on its head.

CRACK!

It sounded like a pot breaking.

The grolwuf screamed—a loud, rough howl—and jumped at her, claws flashing.

She jumped down, rolled, and stood with the stick ready.

She swung again. The stick hit its side. Another crack.

But its green fur glowed. The light sucked in the hit, like a sponge.

“Get away from that kitten!” she growled.

The neko fluttered close, sobbing. “Hit the eyes! The eyes!”

The grolwuf charged again. It was fast now. Its claws dripped with venom—poison that stung like nettles and killed slowly, over days.

Even a scratch would be deadly!

It slashed at her shoulder. She twisted just in time.

She gritted her teeth. She swung low. The stick swept its legs.

The monster fell with a yelp, limbs flailing.

She rushed in.

Its eyes burned with hunger and green fire.

She drove the jagged end of the stick straight at its face. The tip stabbed into the eye.

The grolwuf howled again. It swiped for her ankle. Nearly got her.

But the little neko bravely darted in. She batted the claw away just in time.

The grolwuf’s scream changed. It became a gurgle.

The green light flared—then dimmed—like fire smothered in rain.

Its limbs gave one last shake.

Then its skin turned dull. The glow faded. The green flesh hardened to gray. Cracks spread from where she’d struck. The Green glow went out completely.

The snout. The claws. Even its fur—

All turned to stone.

It froze into a heavy, ugly rock.

Veins of dark green made patterns on the stone like rivers of poison. Dindi didn’t want to test if it was still deadly.

She stood there, panting, stick in hand.

The neko landed beside her. She hugged the kitten, crying.

“You did it! You did it…!”

“The grulwof will come back alive tomorrow,” Dindi said. She knelt and touched the kitten’s head with one shaking finger. The kitten gave a brave little mew. He nuzzled her hand. “Let’s get this little one to safety.”

She looked one more time at the stone monster. Morning light spread pale behind the clouds. The green glow was gone—for now.

Fae never truly die. But Low Fae weren’t very smart. Maybe the grolwuf wouldn’t even remember her when it woke again.

High Fae were different. No one dared mess with High Fae. Luckily, most people never met them.

Dindi said, “I can still finish my chores—”

But then she heard a sound.

At first, she thought it was another meow.

But no… the kitten was safe.

“What was that?” Dindi asked. “Was that a scream?”

“I didn’t hear anything,” said the neko.

A strange feeling tugged at Dindi. She looked up. Something large and winged circled high above. An eagle? A condor? A shadow passed over her.

Then she heard it again.

A woman’s scream.