Hunger

"Come on, Fig!" Ellis shouts, voice reverberating around the trees. I can't see him, only his stupid red backpack, but his voice is loud enough that it slithers around the tall, haunting wood like a snake, winding and whining.

"Damn it, E! Wait up," I pant out, tugging headlamp more tightly over my forehead, as my foot stumbles into a dip. "You don't even know where you're going."

"Yeah, well," Ellis comes into view now, stretching his arms above his head and giving a toothy grin my way, bathed in the fluorescent light by the time his footsteps come to a stop. "Time is of the essence, Figgins, and we have a creature to catch."

"I don't understand you," I breathe out, stopping next to him and bending over, hands on my scraped knees while my lungs struggle against the force of gravity. "We've been running for hours."

"Doesn't mean we have to stop. And besides, you don't understand anybody."

"I don't have to understand them, I just have to tolerate them."

"So you say. And yet here you are, Ms Loner, with me." He lets his arm fall to his side, and runs the other through his short, bark colored hair., and tips his head up at the murky sky. Giving me a squinty, sideways glance, he says, "You have to understand me somewhat, to be out here, running."

I have to admit, he's pretty close to the truth. For as long as I've known Ellis, we've always spent our time doing something. Going on adventures and debunking conspiracies. We became an odd pair, running around the city and trying to discover if there was more to life than school buildings and the sensation of being in our own bodies all day long. Ride or die, even if we're the ones wanting to kill each other. He's not completely right, though.

I don't know about Ellis, but the expeditions themselves are what I come outside for. The breathless thrill of flying through forests and jumping around our weird city, the melody of the streets and pompous birds. There's some urgent need-a longing that fills up my lungs, and tightens my chest-to do something, to go somewhere. My entire body feels like it's made of static the second I'm not free.

That goes unspoken though, in these moments. Instead of saying any of it, I scowl, adjust my flashlight, pointing it downwards and dimming the beam.

"I understand that you're a pain in my-"

Ellis' head whips to the side so quickly, I consider worrying for his neck, but I can't concentrate as an alert and stony expression sculpts itself onto his face for the first time today. "I heard something move."

My blood goes cold at his tone, my head dizzies with anticipation. I can't help the way my heart starts up in double time. Neither of us move, listening to the silence of the breeze and waiting for the world to tilt on its axis.

After a beat too long, my companion's shoulders slump, and a mouse tugs at his lip. "Nevermind."

"Must've been the wind," I snort.

"Famous last words," Ellis retorts blowing a strand of dark hair out of his face, he slings his backpack around, and fumbles with the zipper, before digging into the atrocious red sack, and throwing a little blue bag in my direction in my direction. I catch the trail mix off of instinct, and exhale a thanks, and tear at the side. Before I can do anything else, a flash of white fur shoots past us, and zips around the trees.

Air catches in my throat, and lightning shoots through my body. This is it, my head spins, this is what we've been looking for.

"Make sure you don't die before we walk home, or your mom'll kill me," Ellis whisper yells.

I think of Ma, back from her hospital shift, slapping him with a spatula, and let out a silent laugh, hissing back, "Same goes for you and yours."

Its too late for fear. I step forward, leaves crunching under my feet as slowly tiptoe past another formidable trunk.

"Fig," Ellis warns, but quickly follows behind. We're met with empty darkness, fully illuminated by my headlight, and surrounded by more trees.

Then, the creature comes into view, staring at me with dark, void like eyes. Its tiny feet almost float along the forest floor. The divine wolf stares at me with its dark orbs, tiny body of blinding, scruffy fur arched in defense.

"Oh my god." Ellis gasps, breath hot next to me. I couldn't agree more. This is the thing we've read about in magazines, the thing that's left a trail of death and horror. Our city's had countless other sightings of beings like this; Bigfoot was a big, mythical scandal for a while. But this one is the most elusive out of all of them.

The immortal hound arches its body, pointing ear flattening slightly against its furry skull.

And then, it lets out a high pitched howl, back still rounded, feeling threatened, or threatening. The sound echoes and then, ominously, it stops.

An invisible force hits me so hard in the stomach, I fall to my knees. Pain explodes inside my body, blooming like horrible, violent flowers, and punching me over and over. I keen out, and distantly-through ringing ears-I realize that the scream exiting through my mouth doesn't differ from the one the animal let out. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get rid of the black spots in my vision.

"Fig!" Ellis yells out, tone fearful. "Stop it! Go away!" He screams.

Another wave of pain wracks over me, and pathetically, I howl once more. I can feel myself breaking, can trace the fissures cracking over my skin, leaving my body, my soul, vulnerable to the wretched world, and leaving nothing behind. My forehead is against the ground. I can smell the earth. My pale blonde hair must be streaked with it.

"Liza." A voice cries tearfully, soothing, yet so far away. "No no no. It's okay, Fig. It's okay," I don't understand what the voice-Ellis, I realize, it's Ellis- is trying to tell me, rubbing an unsure hand in circles on my back. Agony spills over my skin again, and nothing is okay. My giddiness is gone.

"It hurts," I heave.

"I know, Fig, I know. Keep fighting, c'mon." Ellis begs.

I open my eyes, vision blurry, and see a hazy outline of the thing, staring at me with those terrible eyes. With a shuddering breath, I reach out a weak hand, and give the wolf the only thing I have to offer; anything, to make this stop. My headlamp emanates an ethereal glow to the deadly thing.

The trail mix bag skids and pauses and its feet. I hear the sniff of a nose, Ellis whispering under his breath in what sounds like prayer.

The creature howls, and a new wave of pain washes over me. A throaty sob edges it's way from my mouth.

What does it want? Why isn't Ellis affected? What's wrong with me?

Oh.

Slowly, so slowly, I move my legs, ignoring the way it feels like needles stabbing into my skin. I stretch out of my fetal position, and lie twisted on the forest dirt. My partner is crime is saying something urgent, but I can't hear him.

I open my mouth, but instead of sobbing, I exhale a shaky breath, and begin to speak.

Words pour out of me. Tales of past explorations. Accidents, moments. Excitements. I tell it about the time we saved a broken bird. The time we went camping unsupervised. It all blends together, like a melody.

The pain dims, just a bit. I pry my eyes open, and look towards the fox, continuing on with a shudder.

Ellis stays silent, sitting behind me, knees pressed against my back. I get it now. To Ellis, this is only a hobby, an activity we do to pass time to rebel. To me, it's everything.

And the creature..seems hungry for it, longing for sustenance, in the form of vigor, just like I am.

The furry thing mews. Waves of hurt ripple along my body, but they seem smaller, less like tidal waves.

Exhaustion clouds my surrounding, and I trip over my words, running out of stories.

The agony returns, like a bolt of lightning against my insides.

I start to wail, as the wolf's hackles rise again. Warm tears fall from my eyes, dripping onto the soil.

I can't do this. I feel so empty, aching this way.

The warmth of Ellis' body leaves my side, and I listen through my pounding head and tears, as he stumbles towards the skinny being.

"Leave! Get out of here! Stop hurting her!" He roars, staggering ungracefully.

The primordial executor growls.

"E, don't," I blubber.

"I'm not letting you suffer through this, Liza Figgins!"

"You can't."

"Watch me, dammit!" He yells.

I don't know what to do. This won't end. I try to tell another story, to appease the divine, but my throat feels too thick. My entire body feels stuck to the stupid, muddy floor, strapped down by the tree's roots, melting from the burn of pain. The wind whistles harshly in my ears, like a screeching melody.

And with that, my brain clears. I tug on the box of my childhood, of memories, games I played with Ellis that stay safely in that box. Trying to suck a breath through my chest, I rummage through the brain box, tipping it over until I find what I'm looking for.

"Over the hills, and under the mountains," I gasp.

Ellis stops moving, and in a hesitant warble, he quietly sings, "Over the trees and under their roots."

A broken smile stretches over my tear stained face, pressed sideways into the ground, "Catch some snails, and play pretend," My voice cracks.

"Let's jump rope, and let time bend."

"And I will race with you."

We continue on, growing louder as our trembling voices echo around the dark. The pain recedes, ebbing away as the wolf calms, sitting down and watching our sorrowful repertoire. We trade off, lyrics pouring out without a thought.

I ring out the last note of the song, and wait, body taut and expectant, of blooming internal bruises and cuts.

But the being just blinks at me, standing up, and inching closer. I brace myself, preparing for another beginning, preparing for the end. Ellis' inhales, and I feel all of his momentary relief disappear.

I shut my eyes tight, hand closing into fists.

Then, a body slumps against my side. Its too small to be Ellis, too lanky and bony. Its coat is soft, its nose twitches wetly, so close to my face.

I open my eyes, and see obsidian orbs gazing back, not even an inch away. The creatures body sits against my arm, and in a low, gentle motion, it's head scrapes against my tilted chest.

"What is happening?" Ellis whispers, anxious.

"I..I don't know."

I stare at the otherworldly little mutt, eyes raking over its fur. Now that its closer, I can the patchiness of its white outfit, the deep scars along it's skin. One of its ears is chipped. As it's nuzzles it's head against me, so domestically, I feel the air rush from my lungs again, just like it did when I was running; exhilaration encapsulates my body, taking over.

The emptiness of my gut fills up with life.

Trying not to startle the poor, venerable wolf, I bring my hand up at a snails pace. The hound eyes me wearily, large eyes unblinking. Then, it presses it's head to my hand, and huffs.

"Freaking god whisperer, look at you go." Ellis guffaws behind me, probably shaking his head. I shush him.

"I'm sorry you've been mistreated. I-" I breathe in, revelling in the way my lungs don't scrapped together, don't tighten like ropes. "I know what it feels like, to be hungry." I tell it, baring my soul as one of its kind would their teeth.

The truth doesn't seem too bad though. For the first time, in the longest time, after countless adventures and adrenaline runs, broken bones and smiles, tears and races, I feel a little more full. More satiated. Because until now, I never realized that there was a chasm of a different kind of agony inside of me, one that that wouldn't falter, one that felt the same way a growling, twisting stomach does. One that tore up my insides and filled up my tear ducts.

Now, laying on the forest floor, sporadic, hulking tree trunks surrounded me, flashlight pointing towards the sky, comfort washes over me.

There's a divine animal next to me, who left me screaming, and currently sits nestled in the crook of my arm, its touch filling me with animation. My hair is spread along the dirt, sinking with the unseen roots.

Ellis slumps down next to me, and I tilt my head to meet his green eyes, and acknowledge again, just how much I love him. We don't say anything for a moment, conveying everything we need to through a look.

Then, quietly, words pinging against the wind, he sighs. "Somehow, this might be the best adventure yet."

"Definitely," I breathe back, careful of the small body against my ribs.

How can I not be? The hunger that has gnawed at me for years is still there, thrumming along my bones like a second pulse, never fully satisfied. But even so, for the first time since I was little, I don't feel like I'm starving, blanketed by the light fog, laying on a bed of rich beginning, next to my best friend, and the catalyst, the gift of all this. And much like the previous pain, the waves of hunger recede along my body, and I let myself relax.

.......

"Hi, Ma!" I call out, cleaning my boots on the rug, and pulling my dirt smudged hair-the silky, copy of my father's an outlier amidst my mom's dark locks-into a ponytail, gaping and half empty bag of trail mix still clutched in my hand. It's a memento, if you will. My limbs are so, so sore, beating with a phantom pain, but I tamp the sensation down, letting a jovial smile play on my face.

She calls back from the kitchen, the smell of dinner wafting through the house.

At this point, she's used to me coming home late, scrambling from our little incidents.

I just hope she doesn't freak out too much when she sees the little white creature with soulfully empty eyes, padding curiously behind me in the entrance.