Robin sat in his chair, letting the familiar worn wood cradle his body as he picked up a pen and starting writing. Robin's process was disorganized at the best of times, with him constantly crossing out words and replacing them with better ones or him tearing out pages and rewriting entire sections of his story. This time, however, his writing was almost manic as he scrawled down sentences and immediately replacing them with better ones. The memories of the past few months clouded his mind as he wrote. Argument after argument, tense dinner after tense dinner, Robin remembered them all. His heart began thrumming with excitement as he reached the climax of the story, his thoughts racing. He rewrote the finale of his story nearly thirteen times before he settled on an ending he felt was right.
[X] The fisherman panics, dragging him and the Huntress in the river, where they're both eaten.
In a stroke of catharsis, Robin finished his story. A weight was lifted off his shoulders as he sat there panting. It was late, Robin could tell, but maybe he could still share this with someone.
Outside, rain had started to fall. An early-summer storm. A rarity in Kuo Kuana, but not unheard of. Robin glanced back outside. Shadows and rain smeared together in a wild dance. Robin felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as if someone was watching him off in the distance.
[X] Blake.
The choice was relatively simple. Robin's parents were probably asleep by now, or maybe they were talking about something important. Robin's best bet was to see if Blake was still awake.
Robin carefully opened the door and stuck his head out, making sure to pause and listen for a good while before continuing to walk out of his room and head towards Blake's room just down the hall. Robin scuttled his way down the hallway. A faint light came from his parent's bedroom, but asides from that, the entire house was shrouded in darkness. The trivial task of walking to Blake's room suddenly felt the slightest bit like an adventure. The names of all the Grimm Robin had come across in his reading fluttered through his mind. For a brief moment, the possibility that Robin could be in real danger passed through his mind.
The town guard seemed strong to Robin, and he'd remembered hearing about a huntsman or two being stationed near Kuo Kuana. . . But the idea of a single Nevermore sneaking through. . . Or a pack of Beowolves. . .
The wind howled against the roof of the house, and the pitter patter of rain grew into the stamping of tiny feet, or perhaps tiny claws. . .
Robin shuddered as the shadows around him seemed to grow sharper, more hostile. He craved the light and his body was tense as he tapped his knuckles against Blake's door. His breath reverberated back towards him from down the hall. But it sounded darker, heavier. Maybe it wasn't his breath at all. . .
"Psst. Blake?"
No response. She was probably already asleep. Robin cursed himself for thinking she'd still be awake. For a split second, Robin considered waking Blake up, but the idea was quickly stamped out. Blake liked to sleep almost as much as she liked reading. Waking her up would just make her angry at him and--
Robin froze. Something was behind him. Maybe if he ran back into his room fast enough, whatever monster was there wouldn't be able to catch him. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing that might work.
With a whirl, Robin dashed towards his room, throwing caution to the wind as he flung his door open, closed it with a rush and dived under his bed covers. He'd show Blake his story tomorrow.
There once was a fisherman with cute little ears that poked up from his head in two tiny triangles who, in his spare time, would write little stories. He had a pet goldfish that he named Gilbert. Every day, the fisherman would go out into the middle of Lake Belladonna and fish with Gilbert. Gilbert had his own little fishbowl that sat next to the fisherman and the two would sit side by side atop the tranquil waters of the lake.
The fisherman never found himself wanting, as the lake was full of fish and surrounded by a lush forest rife with fruits and game. Lake Belladonna was full of Pineapple Fish, which the fisherman loved.
One day, the fisherman was fishing in the middle of his lake with Gilbert at his side, when, in an uncharacteristic act of fear, Gilbert began swimming against his bowl.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. The bowl cried out as Gilbert began trying to swim. The fisherman, unsure of what was going on turned to look towards Gilbert. Before he could complete the turn, however, something bumped into his boat.
The fisherman saw a black fin, almost a third the size of his wooden boat, breach the water just to port. Then, two--three--no, four more fins emerged from the water. Blackfins, the fisherman realized with horror. Desperately, the fisherman began rowing back towards shore as the Blackfins began to circle around his boat more and more rapidly.
It was as if the Grimm were purposefully trying to extract as much terror from the fisherman as possible.
The fisherman strained to push the boat, his tiny hands working the oars painstakingly. He was nearly halfway back to shore, but the Blackfins were beginning to rattle the boat with the waves from their fins. He only had to make it to shallow enough water, but even then, he wouldn't make it!
Badump. Badump. Badump. The fisherman's heart pounded as his chest heaved and his arms burned. Every stroke was a bit closer to land--to safety. Every second was a second closer to death. The first Blackfin scraped a fin against the side of the fisherman's boat and his heart dropped. It was too late!
As the fisherman was about to give up, however, a gunshot rang out from the woods. The fisherman looked over his shoulder. He was saved! It was a huntress! Before the fisherman could process his relief, his boat was jarred by a black fin. The fisherman renewed his efforts, and with the help of the huntress, he was getting closer and closer.
Finally, he was within reach of the shallows. His heart grew lighter, just as the Blackfins upturned his boat, sending him plunging into the cold water of the lake. Water flooded the fisherman's lungs as he flailed, sending spouts of water shooting into the air.
The huntress dashed into the lake, firing at the Grimm while trying to help the fisherman to the shallows, turning the Blackfins' attention towards her.
The fisherman took the chance, swimming towards short unimpaired while the huntress fought the pack of Blackfins. She was a storm of blades and bullets as she dodged charges, parried fins, and riposted with vicious stabs. The fisherman half-swam, half-watched in awe as the huntress split one Blackfin down the middle.
Having just reached the shallows, the fisherman dragged himself ashore, panting. At his side in the shallows, was Gilbert, swimming tiny circles around his foot. The fisherman watched the huntress intently, absorbing the way her movements flowed seamlessly from one to another in a refined dance. Blackfins breached the surface in powerful bites only to be effortlessy sidestepped and cut down. Mesmerized, the fisherman couldn't react as a different kind of Grimm approached and latched one of its eight tentacles around his leg. With a cry of surprise, the fisherman went underwater.
The huntress, alerted by the sharp cry, sprinted to help, avoiding harrying strikes from the Grimm along the way. A lone hand flailed above the waterline and she lunged to grab it. The huntress tugged her strongest, but the fisherman's body remained underwater. The remaining Blackfins were gaining on her. It was a trap!
The fisherman felt something tug on his arm as he stared down into the spiraled red eyes of the Grimm below him. He felt oddly calm as water began to fill his arms. The tugging from above was rapid, frantic almost. Under water, however, things were so calm. . . A faint sensation of panic bubbled up from the calm, but the fisherman didn't mind.
Then, Gilbert swam up in front of the fisherman's face, a look of utmost concern on his face. Gilbert swam hard against the fisherman's face, hard enough to move the fisherman's gaze from the eyes of the Grimm. The panic inside the fisherman exploded, and in a burst of adrenaline, the fisherman grabbed the huntress' arms with both hands and pulled as hard as he could.
The huntress, unprepared for such a sudden increase in load, went into the water.
The fisherman and the huntress shared one look before the Grimm descended upon them.
Robin's eyes shot open. His arms were stiff with sweat as he lay in bed for a moment, contemplating the events of his nightmare. The Grimm he saw, they reminded him of sharks. There was also the one that looked like the gross eight-legged thing he sometimes saw at the market. Robin sat up with a groan. His entire body was drenched with sweat and the storm that had started last night was going strong. As uncomfortable as he was, Robin wasted no time pulling his journal out from underneath his bed and sketching out the Grimm he saw in his dreams. Maybe he could rewrite some of his story to be a bit more interesting.
Having tamed the panic from his dreams, Robin turned towards the manuscript he had finished just last night and flipped through it until he found the right section. He flung himself out of bed towards his desk and began crossing out paragraphs and rewriting them. Blake would be so excited to read this story, Robin thought to himself.
This section here's a bit too wordy. . . Nonono, there needs to be more teeth! And here, the fisherman needs to be more scared. That way it makes more sense that he panics. . . Yes, that's it! Now onto the next page. . .
Knock. Knock. Robin looked up from his tabled and rubbed his eyes.
"Robin?" Kali said.
Robin hopped out of his chair and opened his door. "Morning!"
Kali smiled, though even Robin could tell that she was tired. "Did you sleep alright last night?"
Robin shook his head. "Nope! But I got some really cool ideas from the nightmare I had last night."
"Well I'm glad to hear that you're as enthusiastic as always. Why don't you wake your sister up for breakfast? Your dad's decided to make pancakes today."
Robin gasped. "Pancakes?"
"Mhm."
"Yay!" Robin scuttled off towards his sister's room as Kali walked back down the steps towards the kitchen.
With the light of the morning sun trickling through the house's windows, the trip from his room to Blake's was now trivial. Unafraid, Robin marched up to Blake's door and knocked twice.
"Morning Blake!" Robin spoke into the door. "It's time for breakfast. Dad's making us pancakes!"
No response. Not that that was unusual for Blake. She had a habit of staying up late reading (or organizing events), so Robin concluded his task there and walked downstairs for breakfast.
Ghira was working the stove as Robin entered the kitchen. Kali was drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table.
"Morning dad."
"Good morning Robin." Ghira smiled as he flipped a pancake in his pan. "Did you wake up your sister?"
"I think so. She didn't answer. Maybe she stayed up late last night?" Robin said as he reached up to grab a plate from the countertop.
Ghira sighed, his face contorting into a wry grin. "She does work hard. . ."
Robin nodded as he prepared a plate of pancakes for his mom. "She really does care about the White Fang."
"Yeah. . ." Ghira laid a dollop of pancake batter into his pan. "Robin?"
"Yes dad?" Robin looked up at his dad just as he finished drawing a heart on a pancake. It was for his mom.
"Promise me that you'll never change."
"Okay," Robin said, though it was clear he didn't quite understand the question. "Here mom!"
It wasn't until Robin had finished setting up the remaining three plates for breakfast and Ghira had come out from the kitchen and put away his apron that Kali spoke up again. "Now where is Blake?"
Robin volunteered to get Blake. Up the stairs he went and down the hallway he scampered until he was, for the third time in the past twenty-four hours, in front of his sister's room.
Knock. Knock.
No response.
[] Knock harder.
[] Say something.
[] Report back to parents.
[] Write-in.
