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As a chimera rancher Thimb always kind of expected sooner or later she would need a life saving trip to the clerics. It was just part of the business, really. She had taken a fair few trips for serious-but-not-life threatening issues (having nearly lost her left leg once) but she was careful, and more importantly, lucky. Still, she had expected to make it past 30 before someone needed to revive her. Not 40 though, she was pretty sure it would be somewhere within that decade that she’d get herself killed.
She wasn’t sure who the clerics sweeping about the room when she came to were. She didn’t recognize their robes and was too out of it to get a good look at their holy symbols. Later when she would ask about it people would shift uncomfortably and change the topic. Not reassuring, but, hey, she wasn’t dead, so, that was the important thing, right? Or at least that was what she would tell herself at night as she ran her fingers lightly over what should have been a gaping hole in her gut.
Her whole body felt wrong, and it wasn’t just the sheer exhaustion of having come back from the dead. Which, she had questions about. Death is supposed to be the most ultimate sleep, right? So, why was she exhausted down to her very bones after that? There were so many scars from scrapes and nicks and the occasional light mauling that should have been there and... weren’t. Which, upside, her skin had never been so clear? She dare not complain, she knew how much it had cost to bring her back, and how lucky she was to have been brought back, but so much just felt wrong now.
Like Cid.
Oh, Cid, her poor baby boy. He had been to product of her careful research, an attempt to breed a chimera with more regular molting and shifting patterns. The result had been the literal opposite. Cid shifted more often and more randomly than any other chimera they had, and with a wider range of animal traits presenting. While he wasn’t the intended goal, he was still an incredible specimen, and, more importantly, her baby. She had hand raised him herself since he first hatched and he would often follow her around as she worked like a puppy. When she was working outside, at least. There was a very firm “no chimeras in the house” rule and so she couldn’t smuggle him into her study.
She hadn’t been to see him since she died because it had been his tail that skewered her. She didn’t blame him for this- part of his unstable physical form was that he would shift presented traits so much faster than others, and it was usually uncomfortable, and sometimes painful for him. He was in pain and just flailing about like any other animal would. It was just bad, dumb luck that he got her. And yet... she avoided his pen. She knew he had been anxious and sulking since that night, she had been told as much by Zazz. Zazz who had made sure her baby wasn’t put down (which she was eternally grateful to him for) and yet... she still hadn’t managed to go see him.
She rolled over in bed for the millionth time staring at the total blackness outside her window. Another sleepless night. She hadn’t slept well since she died, which also seemed wrong given how deeply exhausted she was.
Well, fuck it. If she couldn’t sleep she might as well go face a fear.
The pens were abandoned because everyone was asleep. Well, some of the chimeras were currently nocturnal and fucking about, but no people. She grabbed a handful of grain to toss into their pen which they happily swarmed, those who had tails wagging them happily. It was easy to linger there, watching some of the smaller chimeras wrestle and play around. Innocent. Harmless. Well, as much as any chimera could be. No, she was here for a reason (well, two reasons, one of which was insomnia) and she would see it through.
Cid had been moved to a smaller pen, less room to thrash and potentially hurt himself or others. The stinger at the end of his tail was tied up in a harness so there wouldn’t be a repeat, and Thimb could tell just by looking it was too tight. He was also muzzled, which was absurd since he just had tiny little pincers. He had been curled up in a ball of scales and feathers, half asleep, half sulking, and lazily slid the gaze of his nine eyes to the source of foot steps. Upon laying eyes on Thimb he perked up, was on his feet and bounded over to the edge of the pen, practically vibrating in excitement, his long harnessed tail thumping against the walls of his pen.
Thimb froze, eyes locked on the tail of the happy creature. “Hey buddy,” she said, staying well away from the gate, where he was eagerly pressing himself in hopes of pats. “You look like you’ve been better too, huh?”
He was rubbing his face on the bars of the gate, practically begging for pats.
The lump in her throat was choking her and her feet were frozen. She couldn’t look away from the tail.
He chittered, half whine, half excited noise.
She gave her head a shake, “Sorry buddy, not this time,” she managed to get out around the lump in her throat, her voice sounding wrong, like so much of her was wrong now, and fled back to her room to continue not sleeping, wrapping her arms around Hamish and hugging them a bit more tightly than they were strictly happy with.
She wasn’t sure who the clerics sweeping about the room when she came to were. She didn’t recognize their robes and was too out of it to get a good look at their holy symbols. Later when she would ask about it people would shift uncomfortably and change the topic. Not reassuring, but, hey, she wasn’t dead, so, that was the important thing, right? Or at least that was what she would tell herself at night as she ran her fingers lightly over what should have been a gaping hole in her gut.
Her whole body felt wrong, and it wasn’t just the sheer exhaustion of having come back from the dead. Which, she had questions about. Death is supposed to be the most ultimate sleep, right? So, why was she exhausted down to her very bones after that? There were so many scars from scrapes and nicks and the occasional light mauling that should have been there and... weren’t. Which, upside, her skin had never been so clear? She dare not complain, she knew how much it had cost to bring her back, and how lucky she was to have been brought back, but so much just felt wrong now.
Like Cid.
Oh, Cid, her poor baby boy. He had been to product of her careful research, an attempt to breed a chimera with more regular molting and shifting patterns. The result had been the literal opposite. Cid shifted more often and more randomly than any other chimera they had, and with a wider range of animal traits presenting. While he wasn’t the intended goal, he was still an incredible specimen, and, more importantly, her baby. She had hand raised him herself since he first hatched and he would often follow her around as she worked like a puppy. When she was working outside, at least. There was a very firm “no chimeras in the house” rule and so she couldn’t smuggle him into her study.
She hadn’t been to see him since she died because it had been his tail that skewered her. She didn’t blame him for this- part of his unstable physical form was that he would shift presented traits so much faster than others, and it was usually uncomfortable, and sometimes painful for him. He was in pain and just flailing about like any other animal would. It was just bad, dumb luck that he got her. And yet... she avoided his pen. She knew he had been anxious and sulking since that night, she had been told as much by Zazz. Zazz who had made sure her baby wasn’t put down (which she was eternally grateful to him for) and yet... she still hadn’t managed to go see him.
She rolled over in bed for the millionth time staring at the total blackness outside her window. Another sleepless night. She hadn’t slept well since she died, which also seemed wrong given how deeply exhausted she was.
Well, fuck it. If she couldn’t sleep she might as well go face a fear.
The pens were abandoned because everyone was asleep. Well, some of the chimeras were currently nocturnal and fucking about, but no people. She grabbed a handful of grain to toss into their pen which they happily swarmed, those who had tails wagging them happily. It was easy to linger there, watching some of the smaller chimeras wrestle and play around. Innocent. Harmless. Well, as much as any chimera could be. No, she was here for a reason (well, two reasons, one of which was insomnia) and she would see it through.
Cid had been moved to a smaller pen, less room to thrash and potentially hurt himself or others. The stinger at the end of his tail was tied up in a harness so there wouldn’t be a repeat, and Thimb could tell just by looking it was too tight. He was also muzzled, which was absurd since he just had tiny little pincers. He had been curled up in a ball of scales and feathers, half asleep, half sulking, and lazily slid the gaze of his nine eyes to the source of foot steps. Upon laying eyes on Thimb he perked up, was on his feet and bounded over to the edge of the pen, practically vibrating in excitement, his long harnessed tail thumping against the walls of his pen.
Thimb froze, eyes locked on the tail of the happy creature. “Hey buddy,” she said, staying well away from the gate, where he was eagerly pressing himself in hopes of pats. “You look like you’ve been better too, huh?”
He was rubbing his face on the bars of the gate, practically begging for pats.
The lump in her throat was choking her and her feet were frozen. She couldn’t look away from the tail.
He chittered, half whine, half excited noise.
She gave her head a shake, “Sorry buddy, not this time,” she managed to get out around the lump in her throat, her voice sounding wrong, like so much of her was wrong now, and fled back to her room to continue not sleeping, wrapping her arms around Hamish and hugging them a bit more tightly than they were strictly happy with.
