Ander - Part 4: Subchapter 42
42
Banno closed the door behind him, gasping and wheezing, burning from the inside out, trying not to think about how he'd have to walk all the way back to the animal cages, and then all the way back to his room when he was done.
But he did think about it, and thinking about it only made him angrier.
He was back in the food room, and what he was looking for was sitting right on top of the table: the two candles, one slightly shorter than the other because of a certain runty Fox's half-assed midnight prowlings.
Banno hobbled closer, moving painstakingly slow now that he was back within earshot of the slumbering Foxes. How close was it to dawn? He wasn't sure. It felt like he had been slogging around all night, but his sense of time was a bit off right now. It wouldn't do to tarry, though. Oh no. Best be quick. That James bastard sometimes got up before the sun did. Quick quick...
The candles were still nice and tall, only halfway spent. Good, that would make it harder for them to notice. All he needed was something sharp to make a clean cut with...
"Oh, for the love of..." Banno grumbled, remembering that the knife block was all the way over by the window. Juuust out of reach. He took the two necessary steps, grabbed one, then took two more steps back to the table, cursing the damnable crutch beneath his arm, making something as simple as four steps (something normally not worth even thinking about), into such a chore. Of course, if it wasn't for the crutch he wouldn't have been able to take those four irksome steps in the first place, but it was easier to blame the crutch, which he could get mad at right now, rather than Ander, who was probably off spooning his little bitch.
But enough of that. He took a deep breath to steady his hand, then got to work on this most delicate of operations.
The Foxes might be unnecessarily different about most things, but these candles were just regular old tallow, same as the ones back home. He carefully measured the distance from the top of each one, then made a little mark with his claw. So far, so good. Next, he cut the tops off with the knife, sawing it back and forth a little to prevent it from smushing up and breaking. When he was done, he had four candles: two tiny ones no taller than the width of his finger, and two tall headless ones with stubby little wicks barely sticking out of the wax.
Now that just looked wrong.
Banno scratched his head. He didn't think this far ahead. All he wanted were the two miniature candles, but in getting them he had left a sure sign of his presence. He carved some more wax away to expose their wicks, but they were white, unburnt, and the wax itself was straight and unmelted. Still wrong, but that shouldn't be too hard to fix. All he needed was a flame.
Banno looked around. If the need called for it, he could start a fire using some sticks and kindling, but that was a tiring, time consuming endeavour, something he seriously doubted the Foxes would do each and every single time they lit these things. No, it was far more likely they'd have some flint squirrelled away somewhere, probably nearby.
Urgh... Banno groaned silently. He didn't have the patience for this, but neither did he have much of a choice. He clickety-clacked his way over to the little box things against the wall and started opening them at random. Some opened like chests tipped onto their sides, others slid out like wooden tongues.
Just why... Banno thought, pawing around through the most useless assortment of junk he had ever seen. Why have these things? Why keep them in these wall boxes?
Minutes passed by that felt like hours, and Banno did something he never would have expected. He actually found himself wishing for Ander's flamebox, the sole invention of his that wasn't a complete and total waste of time. Well, the freak was constantly building ridiculous contraptions, so it was only a matter of time before one of them turned out to be not quite as useless as the others, but that still didn't help him. If it wasn't in his hands right now to fulfil the purpose it was built for, then it might as well not exist. That was the way for everything. If it wasn't of use to Banno in some way, shape, or form, then it didn't exist.
But the opposite was also true. If he had a need, then the item to fulfil that need would surface. If something that didn't exist before suddenly gained a purpose, then it would exist.
And exist it did.
Banno picked up a flat, silvery box thing with a piece of metal hanging from the corner by a frail-looking chain. It was a bit clumsy for his big fingers, but when he finally wrestled it open, he found good chunk of flint inside, as well as a tuft of kindling he didn't recognise. Probably some kind of weed fibre.
Yes! This would work!
Banno had to be careful to squash that rising sense of victory before it could take flight. He still had a lot of work to do, and the time in which to do it was steadily running out.
"Focus..." he whispered to himself and set to work.
First thing he did was to carefully scrape some of the flint with the striker and sprinkle it on the candle's wick. This trick he actually learned from Ander, the insufferable know-it-all, but that was just another example of something fulfilling a purpose, and all real purposes for the things outside of Banno's existence were simply to fulfil his desires, his hungers, his cravings, his needs, such as lighting this stupid candle right now.
Banno held the striker against the flint, listening for the faintest noise from the upper level. He wouldn't be able to do this quietly, so he'd just have to do it right the first time.
Unaware that he was biting down on his tongue in concentration, Banno scraped the striker down against the flint and a flurry of yellow sparks rained down on the wick, catching it on fire almost instantly.
He quickly used it to light the second candle, then covered both flames with his hands, trying to block off as much light as possible. He didn't think any of the light could travel all the way up the steps from here, but he didn't want to take any chances. He stood that way for a while, barely noticing the twin spots of pain forming in his palms. He'd prefer pain to cold any day. At least pain was real.
The heat grew and grew until it felt like someone was slowly pushing a pair of burning thorns into his palms. He pulled back slightly, not because the pain was bothering him, but because he didn't want any tell-tale blisters to form. Just more tracks that needed covering.
When he was satisfied, he blew out the candles and inspected his handiwork. They were a bit shorter than before, but otherwise they looked just as they had before he got here: about halfway spent, their wicks black. The wax was still a bit runny, but that would harden in no time at all.
He wiped the knife on his pants, put it back with the others, then took the miniature candles he had cut and put them into the little fire-starting kit with the flint. He snapped it shut, clamped it between his teeth, hobbled to the door, eased it open, looked at the expansive ocean of black shadows lying between him and the animal prison, and sighed. There was still so much cripple-walking to be done.
But it would be worth it. Oh yes, it would all be worth it in the end.
He closed the door, silent as a spirit, and vanished into the night, melding with the shadows as if they were one and the same.
If you enjoy my story, please help keep my face un-mauled by irritable ostriches by dropping me a donation.
Thank you! ^_^
Paypal: [email protected]
Donation Progress $100 / $300 (Unlock Sunday update)
How and Why: The Story behind "Ander" (Journal): https://www.sofurry.com/view/517234
Special thanks go out to the following furs for helping me keep this project afloat with their generous donations. I couldn't do it without your support.
- Mystery fur
- PyrePup
- KmlRock
- Faan
- Sunny-Fox
- Mystery fur #2
- Sky Star
- Claybrook
Thank you! You guys are the best! ^_^