#needed a break

I needed a break from my stories, to give my brain a chance to refresh a little. So I started a little something that might not go anywhere. Not sure if I'll be uploading it as an actual story sometime or not yet. It's brief, vague and not well edited. But it was just a little exercise to keep me writing.

Should be updating I Live to Rule by the Sword tomorrow too. Or late tonight. We'll see. EDIT: I Live to Rule by the Sword has been updated!

Oh, and I threw in a little shitty doodle at the end because I thought it was kinda cute. Just... don't look at it too hard, ha. Enjoy!

He ducked his head as someone walked past the wagon he was crouched behind. Pulling the coat up further over his quills, he peeked around the edge to check for the nearest ship. Unfortunately, the closest one’s gangplank was swarming with sailors. No getting past them unnoticed. Which meant he’d have to move further out through the docks. Which also meant a higher chance of being spotted. The hedgehog swallowed thickly. There were a couple crates a little further over and a barrel on its side past that. If he was careful, people might not notice him. He was agile and short, able to move so fast that most people could blink and not see him. Well, he used to be fast. Malnutrition was a bitch. But he bet he could still make it.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced around once more to check if any eyes were looking his way. Then he sprinted from one cover to the next, head low, hands keeping the coat in place. He didn’t hear anyone shout anything, so he assumed he was in the clear. Another check and he ran for the barrel next. Still nothing. He let out a puff of air and scanned the next ship over. There were a couple mobians milling about the dock but the gangplank was clear. This crew seemed to be smaller and that was all he registered, all that mattered.

If he timed it right, he could reach the gangplank without being noticed. He just had to pray the deck was deserted too.

One of the mobians flitting around walked further up the dock. The other turned and started riffling through an open barrel. He wouldn’t get a better chance than this. So he shook out his fur, fingers digging further into the ratty old coat.

He managed to slip past the first mobian, who was now wandering back towards the other ships. Then he snuck past the next, a little more cautiously. The hedgehog paused, nauseated, when he reached the gangplank. But hesitating too long could lead to being found. So he forced his way across the wood as fast as he could on wobbly legs, trying not to look down. His stomach flipped but he’d made it onto the ship. Apparently, luck was on his side, for the deck was empty too. This crew must be really small. And for such a large ship? Odd. 

He didn’t really care to think more on it. He needed to get below the main deck, down to the ship’s hold. There he could hide and, hopefully, remain undiscovered. Of course, there was always the bilge but there wouldn’t be many places to hide and it wasn’t exactly… pleasant down there. As long as there was cargo to hide behind, the hold should be perfect. The hedgehog cautiously made his way below deck, squinting in the dim light as he staggered his way – hopefully –  towards the hold. Ears perked, he tried to listen out for any footsteps that weren’t his own, any voices. He couldn’t hear a thing but the creaking of the hull and the lapping of the waves; at least the sea was relatively calm today. He managed to stumble upon the hold and noticed, with relief, that there were already quite a few crates and barrels down here. And a couple cluckies, which squawked rapidly, agitatedly when they saw him. His ears flattened.

“Shhh,” he soothed gently. “It’s alright. Please be quiet.”

He’d always had a way with animals and that skill really helped him here. The cluckies soon eased and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The hedgehog picked his way to the very back of the hold and squished his way between a stack of crates and the wall. There wasn’t a lot of room but he’d deal with it. It was boxed in and relatively safe enough. He folded his legs, adjusting the coat again over his head, hoping it would be dark enough that no one would notice it. It was a deep walnut-brown, so it might blend in.

Just as he was settling, heart still thudding in his chest, he began to hear movement above him. Clunky footsteps, muted laughter. Some sort of jeer followed by cackling and the stomping of feet. And then a hush fell over the crew. The hedgehog hunched his shoulders.

As he sat there, straining to hear more, a clucky tottered over to him. It walked around him for a moment before hopping up onto his knee and settling in his lap. He froze at first. Then he rested his ungloved hand on it’s head. Those white feathers were so soft, like stroking a cloud. It felt nice on his calloused pads. He calmed somewhat. The clucky started to emit a quiet warbling. He hugged it close, burying his nose in its feathers and trying not to cry. He wasn’t sure if it was terror or relief at this point but his chest felt tight. Hopefully the next port wasn’t too far. And the sailors would actually stop.

Maybe he didn’t think this through.

A couple sailors entered the hold and he shrunk back against the wall. He could hear them shuffling around, muttering to each other. And then the thud of them dropping a crate somewhere to his left made him flinch. The clucky stirred and the hedgehog held his breath. It let out a disgruntled sound and then wriggled, getting comfortable again. Neither of the sailors seemed to hear it. There was some more chuckling and then the footsteps receded. He didn’t even realise he was shaking until they were gone.

Perhaps asking for safe passage would have been a better idea. But he didn’t have much gold. And being stuck at port was the last thing he wanted.

He heard some more commotion above, yelling and more pounding. They were probably getting ready to leave. There was no going back now. Closing his eyes, the hedgehog willed the panic away. He had to remind himself that this was what he’d wanted. He had chosen this. And what ever came of it was his own fault. Either way, it was guaranteed to be better than what he’d just escaped from. Anything would be better than that.