Life in General.

         Alana walked thought the woods, smile on her face, like usual. Here in the woods, no one would call her mutt or Pilian, the term meaning hybrid of 4 or more species. She frankly had no idea what the heck she was, though she expected she had lots of Red Panda in her, seeing as her fur was orange. There was also the fact that her tail was bigger and puffier than her whole body, and 1.5 times as long. That same tail wrapped around her gently as she hugged it like a pillow, seeking comfort in the familiar rings of green and orange.

         Her canine nose detected the form in the tree above her long before her eyes did. Her stomach growled angrily at her, but she pushed the idea of food out of her head, she could get hold of better food than some poor Tronadrin in a tree. She looked at him from behind. He was just as big as her. She figured he was probably a squirrel, judging by the tail. He was all of 5 feet 10 inches and not much more, while she stood an imposing 8 feet. His fur was bark brown, the head-fur on his head matched perfectly. She smiled to herself, another Tronadrin who didn’t bother dying their hair like humans did. The glasses on his head slid down a little and he pushed them back up.

         “Hey!” she called out to him. His ears twitched, so she knew he heard her, but he didn’t respond. He seemed absorbed in a book. “HEY!” still no response. She walked out in front of the tree so he could see her and shouted again. “HEEEEEEEY!”

         “Ugh, what?” he glared at her over the book. It didn’t have a title on the cover, just pristine leather that looked like it got more TLC than most children. His eyes were bright green and, at the moment, full of disinterest. “I’m trying to read, if you can’t see. Go away.”

         Alana growled quietly and stomped a foot. “You don’t have to be such a jerk you know.”

         “Sure I do,” he said without looking back up from his book, “it gets rid of the crazies so quickly.” Alana growled. She walked up to the tree and glared at the squirrel. A dark thought crossed her mind, and for once she decided to entertain it.

         “Jerk!” she kicked the tree, hard. The whole oak tree shook, and the squirrel fell down onto the branch below him with a loud grunt, dropping his book onto the ground. Alana scooped it up and grinned darkly. She held it up high over her head, and then dropped it. Right into her mouth. She only wanted to scare the jerk, and she had eaten much larger before, so with little effort she swallowed it whole and patted her stomach. It tasted terrible, but she had a good cause, so she could take it. 

         “My boo-o-o-o-o-ok!” the little jerk jumped down from the tree and landed lightly on his feet, then ran up to her and the most pitiful whining sound ever. She would almost feel bad for him, if his pitiful face wasn’t so practiced. She smirked and leaned down so they were almost nose-to-nose.

         “You want it, come get it.” You could almost hear the air go out of him.

         “B-but… my book…”

         Alana finally snapped and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Argh just shut up!” Now, Alana wasn’t strong for her size, but her size alone connotes a certain amount of strength; more than enough to pick up a relatively short Tronadrin with ease. He froze in terror long enough for her to get his head and entire upper torso into her mouth and throat. By the time he knew enough about what was happening to react and kick and squirm, all that was left was the bottom of his legs and his feet, which disappeared into her in a matter of moment. She patted her squirming distended stomach and thought to herself, MUCH tastier than that book. She lay down, back against the tree and petted her stomach happily.

         After a few minutes, all she could hear was the sobbing. That’s what the hateful little jerk was doing, sobbing and sobbing. It actually made her feel bad, but not enough to spit him out just yet. She sighed sadly. “Quit crying, would you? I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just a little hungry.” He cried louder and she slapped her forehead with the pad of her hand. “Okay, bad choice of words.” She sighed and slumped back. “Just calm down, alright?” watched silently as he continued to cry until he apparently cried himself to exhaustion, because he fell asleep. Every breath was laden with guilt as she drooled him out gently and set him on the grass under the tree, still fast asleep. He almost looked cute, asleep and soaking wet. Alana sighed and walked away.

         That evening the rain came down hard. She didn’t live very far from the woods where she had left him, and he would have had to pass her house to leave. She hadn’t seen him once. She sighed and walked outside in the rain and back to the tree. He was still lying there, shivering, but he was awake. Barely. She could tell he was getting to cold to survive. He opened one eye and looked at her pleading before he passed out again. She picked him up gently and held him tight, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep him warm. She opened her mouth slowly and slid him back in, hoping against hope that her body heat would be enough. She rubbed her stomach gently as she walked until she found a cave and enough dry wood to make a small fire. She waited in silence. Several hours later he woke and made a noise not unlike a dying camel, so she spit him out gently and let him run to the back of the cave and cower. She watched silently and tried not to let the guilt she felt make her throw up.

         After a while, the squirrel moved closer to the fire. Then a little closer. Then, finally, he sat beside the fire, across from her, without speaking. That sat like that for a while before he finally said something. “W….where is my book?”

         Alana blushed brightly. “Oh, uhm…..” she turned around and gently spat it out. She had completely forgotten she’d ate it. Now it was covered in digestive enzymes and some of the pages were falling out. It smelled like paper pulp. Even the beautiful leather binding was beginning to dissolve. She turned around and handed it to him gently. The look on his face… she couldn’t even describe it. She almost did throw up from the guilt. Who knows, it might have helped.

         After a moment, the little guy threw the book onto the fire and put on a straight face. Not a single tear this time. Somehow this made her feel worse.

         “My name’s Alan by the way.”

         She looked at him. “Really? My name’s Alana.” He smiled.

         “What a coincidence.”

         “Uhm… aren’t you afraid of me?”

         “No,” he sighed, “If you really meant to hurt me you wouldn’t have spit me out in the first place, much less saved me from dying in the cold.” The thunder rolled outside. “besides, I can see why you did it, I was a jerk, and I needed a lesson. Well I got it.”

         Alana stared at him. It was like a different person. A much cuter person. AUGH, NOT CUTE, NO DON’T LIKE HIM! She smacked herself in the forehead and tried to ignore the voice in her head.