Dusk Fall

Scattered Pollen

Whisper, originally indignant at being carried like the tiniest pup in the nursery, settled into Rock’s steady grip. He was such a handsome, brave, clever bat! And he thought her an adventurer! She wanted to be just like him! Whisper mused wonderingly if she could be friends with this strange drake. She couldn’t wait to get home and—

Whisper’s heart dropped into her stomach, thudding sluggishly. They were going to be in so much trouble. They’d been gone more than a full day! Oh no, what was Broodie Pollen going to say?! Then again, piped up some distant part of herself. Broodie Pollen might think her story was excellent! This thought heartened her. She couldn’t wait to tell Broodie Pollen all about her grand adventure. It was even better than her story. They didn’t just fight a fox—They fought a wolf!

With a shiver of anticipation Whisper watched the trees passing far below, the unfamiliar canopy giving way to more familiar landmarks. She could hardly believe they’d gotten so far!

“You’ve been awful quiet the last few minutes. Tell me, young Whisper, are you worried about your reception?” Rock’s warm voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“A little. . . We’re going to be in so much trouble.” She answered in a sad squeak.

“Oh yes, you will. But they’ll be glad to have you back. I’m sure you won’t be punished too harshly. Especially if you remember to behave yourselves and stay exactly where you need to be.”

She nodded but didn’t speak up for herself.

Whisper’s throat was far too dry to say a word. She could see their tree. On the Flight Bough, countless shapes sat huddled, looking forlorn, their pelts ungroomed, and their whiskers slouched against their backs.

It was her father who noticed them first. He screeched something to the still bodies around him, before launching himself into the sky. He was on them within wingbeats.

“Frost! Whisper! Oh, thank the spirits, you’re alive!” Disregarding Rock, he dropped beside Whisper, roughly l*****g her between the ears. She could hear his voice cracking, as if he’d been in great pain before their arrival. Now his chirp cracked with the strength of his relief to see his pups alive and well. “I thought I’d lost you.” His soft, desperate tone made Whisper’s heart ache. She never wanted to cause so much distress.

“We found your whelplings far inside our territory borders, Cedar Dusk-Flight. Make sure you keep an eye on the little birdbrains. We don’t want to have to return them again.” Peak’s rough growl snapped her father too attention.

“Yes. Of course.” He nodded curtly; the air thick with beating wings as the broodies made their way up to recover their missing pups. Relief shone in the eyes of all the Brood Mothers—But where was Broodie Pollen? There was something else there, too. Hot and raw—It looked like grief! But they were home now, what did they have to grieve?

Rock carefully passed her off to Broodie Ivy, and Whisper let out a forlorn; “Bye bye, Rock. I hope I might see you again one day!”

“I’m sure you will, little skull. For now, keep that spirit of yours under control. It might get you into even more trouble!” And with a warm laugh, he angled his wings for the dark woods he came from, Peak following closely after him.

Whisper got lost in the endless stream of “Thank the spirits your back!” And the whirlwind of tongues rasping her fur and muzzles nuzzling her own. She just wanted to go back to her nest and eat a good meal. The looming threat of her punishment sat like a stone in her belly. But it would be worth it when she got to see the look on broodie Pollen’s skull when she told her that she met a wolf!

“You gave us all a terrible fright, Frost. Whisper.” Came her father’s voice from the hollow ledge. He looked so powerful, hindclaws gripping the rim of the opening like a hawk’s talons. She pushed back a shiver of fear. “We thought the spirits took you to join their Flight in the clouds. What were you thinking?” His voice was stern, but the warmth of his affection for his pups seeped through the cracks and made it very difficult for young bats still drunk off their adventure to feel very admonished.

“I’m sorry father.” Frost said, dejectedly hanging his head. “It was all my fault.”

Whisper’s eyes flashed. His fault?! No—It was her fault! Was Frost trying to protect her? Again? She wouldn’t let him. “No, it was me. I heard Broodie Pollen’s story about a fox, and I was birdbrained enough to go looking for one.” She cut over Frost’s version of events. They both stared at her. The other Brood Mothers gave Cedar and his pups a bit of space, but she could tell they were still listening by the way they kept their big ears fixed in Whisper’s direction. Why did they look so sad? Whisper and Frost were home! There was no reason to be sad anymore!

“He didn’t have time to find anybody to stop me, and he tried the whole time to get me to come back home. We got lost, but then Rock and his friends found us and brought us home!”

Cedar was quiet for a long while. Wingbeats stretched into what felt like moons to Whisper. When he spoke again his voice was heavy, exhausted beyond his seasons. “I’m going to have to tell the Flight leads. You’re going to tell them exactly what happened, and they’re going to have to punish you. You know the rules about wandering off.”

“I understand father. But. . . Where’s Broodie Pollen?” Whisper felt a creeping sense of dread as the other Broodies stiffened. Cedar ducked his skull behind his wing.

“Perhaps you two should get some rest. I’ll sent the Flight leads to you when the sun starts to set.” He didn’t meet her eye. In fact, he seemed adamant not to.

“But I’m not tired! We slept all night! I wanna tell Broodie Pollen my adventure! Where is she?” Frost shuffled a little closer to her, lifting a wing over her back, and pulling her close. Why was everybat acting so weird? She just wanted to talk with her Broodie!

“Whisper, please—”

“No! I want to see Broodie—!"

“You can’t!” Cedar hissed. His pelt bristled with tension and his eyes bore so much pain. Whisper’s mind refused to piece together the truth. The reality too much to bear, she shoved it to the side, and refused to see what her good sense told her.

“Why not. . .?” Her voice sounded so small, so far away. That couldn’t be her speaking, and yet. . . “Why can’t I see Broodie Pollen?”

Cedar turned his back on the little wide-eyed whelplings heaving a mournful sigh. Brood Mother Ivy approached Whisper, whose whiskers were now lashing with distress. She pulled her into her wake. “Dear little wing. . . Broodie Pollen has gone to fly with the spirits.”

Whisper cried out. A pitiful, mewling sound. “No! No! She’s not, she’s not with the spirits—She’s here! Why won’t you let me see her?” Her tail trashed, snatcher thudding dully against the hollow floor. The other broodies hung their skulls, eyes dull with grief.

“No, my little wing. We found her this morning. It was why we thought—Surely you two would also be—It was so cold.” She finished, unsure.

Whisper felt like waterfalls poured in her ears. She couldn’t hear through the ceaseless roaring. The ground swayed beneath her. Was the tree falling? For one horrible moment, she thought she would be sick on the floor.

“What happened to her, Broodie Ivy?” She thought she heard Frost’s voice ask, from somewhere far away. She shook her skull in wild protest—No, no, she didn’t want to hear it!

“She was the first out to look for you two. You know how much she adored you, nowing could keep her out of the woods. She searched every inch of it. We couldn’t convince her to give up on you for the night. It was getting too cold to fly. We found her in the morning. She’d tried to sleep the night out in a sheltered tree, but it. . .it wasn’t warm enough. She’s with the spirits now.”

So, it was all her fault.

Broodie Pollen was dead—She was never coming back—And it was all Whisper’s fault.

The thought of it was more than she could bare. Without waiting to hear Frost’s reply, Whisper dragged herself to her claws and shuffled slowly along the floor until she stumbled over her nest wall. She didn’t bother to groom the nest scraps from her pelt. She simply curled up so tight, trying to squeeze the pain away.

It hurt so much she thought her heart might stop. Her adventure hadn’t been worth it. The memory already rotting inside of her. Only, unlike bad prey, she couldn’t just toss away her heart. She couldn’t undo her mistake. She didn’t even flinch when Frost curled up next to her and rasped his tongue along her ruffled pelt.

Broodie Ivy carefully picked her way into the nest, but before she could curl up around her whelplings, Whisper threw herself to the other end of the nest in a tangle of sings and claws.

“No!” She hissed. “You’re NOT Broodie Pollen! Leave me alone!” Nothing felt real anymore. Whisper took immense satisfaction in the look of shock and hurt on Ivy’s face. For how much she hurt, it felt good to inflict that on somewing else.

“Little wing. . .” Came her sad voice.

“No! I’m not your little wing! I want to be alone!” She roughly turned her back on the poor brood mother and slumped into the nest wall.

Frost’s sad eyes peered out at her from against Ivy’s wake, but Whisper turned up her muzzle at him. She wanted to be alone.

“Well, I can’t force you. But, you’re always welcome to come get warm, if you need to.”

Whisper merely huffed and curled tighter around herself.