Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Brux skidded to a stop so hard his claws dug into the ground cover.
Goddess—what is that?
For a second, he was sure it was about to explode or spit poison or fling needles into Kiera’s soft skin. He snapped at it—more warning than bite—and the creature immediately puffed even more, wobbling on its stubby legs as if offended. But it didn’t change any more or attack–it just sat there, inflated and hissing.
Confusion flickered through Brux’s mind. His nose twitched. What was this thing? What were its intentions? Why was it just sitting there? Why–?
Suddenly the thing jumped out of the grass, launching itself at Kiera.
With a growl, Brux dived at it…only to see it vanish in a puff of white powder.
“No, don’t! Watch out!” he heard Kiera shout behind him.
But it was too late–his paws came straight down in the middle of what he thought was just another patch of meadow…only the “meadow” vanished beneath him.
There was no time to recover. Brux yelped—an undignified, startled sound that ripped out of his throat before he could stop it—and then he plunged straight down into cold, slick water.
Purple and silver algae slapped against his face and neck like wet cloth. It clung to him instantly, coating his fur in a heavy, slimy layer that felt wrong—thick, cold, and horribly sticky.
He kicked and scrambled, flailing like an inexperienced pup, and burst back up, coughing and sputtering as he fought his way out of the hidden pool. He hauled himself out, dripping and shocked, his legs wobbling as he stood on the edge of the strange, mini—lake, staring down at it mistrustfully.
As he looked, he saw what he should have noted before–there was a purple and silver algae layer floating on top of the water which had camouflaged it perfectly. The surface of it looked exactly like the surrounding plants—only darker and more saturated.
“Oh my God–just look at you!”
Kiera’s voice cut through his confusion, and he looked up to see her shaking her head. For a heartbeat, he feared she would be angry—he had embarrassed himself, made a mess, probably scared her.
But then her lips twitched…her eyes widened with disbelief…and she burst out laughing.
“Don’t you look a mess?” she exclaimed, when she finished. “Those little holes are what I call ‘camo—lakes,’ because the algae camouflages them and you don’t notice until you step right in. Oh, and that big scary puff—ball that led you into it was a fooster. Completely harmless, by the way–they just act like that if they think someone is going to step on them.”
Brux liked that she was talking to him like he was a person and not just her new pet, but he had other things on his mind at the moment–like staring down at his own body in horrified disbelief.
He was…purple.
Not just wet…not just muddy…but actually purple and silver streaked, as if someone had painted him with shimmering slime. The algae was matting his thick fur into clumps, making him look ridiculous—like some kind of demented festival mascot. And it felt absolutely horrible.
The intense sensations caused his mind to revert back momentarily to its more primal form.
Wrong…bad…no!
He shook his head hard, trying to fling the stuff off his face, but the only result was clumps of sodden fur slapping wetly against his ears. Panic sparked through him.
Get it off. Get it off. Get it OFF.
He stumbled toward Kiera, wanting her—needing her—because she was safe and familiar and she would know what to do. His paws squelched. The algae dripped in strings from his ruff and belly. He tried to lick it, but it tasted foul—bitter and metallic and yet oddly sweet, like spoiled fruit.
He gagged and spat, feeling his stomach roll. Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong.
Kiera stood a few paces away, staring at him with her hands braced on her hips. When she saw him coming, she held out her hands, palms up.
“Now hold on a second! Just wait…don’t–”
But it was too late–Brux was already shaking himself vigorously all over.
He couldn’t help it. The urge to shake was primal—automatic—wired into every cell of his body. The horrible algae clung and pulled at his fur, weighing him down, chilling his skin beneath. He shook harder–the way he would shake off rain or snow.
At last his shaking had an effect–purple algae went flying, getting everywhere–including all over Kiera.
It spattered across her sweater, dotted her braids, and painted her cheeks and forearms with glittery violet streaks. A fat blob even slapped onto her shoulder and slowly slid down leaving a shimmering trail of slime.
Brux froze mid—shake, suddenly aware of what he had done.
Oh, no! I got her dirty! I ruined her clothes–got dirt in her hair! What’s wrong with me? Why did I do that? Now, she’ll hate me!
He lowered his head, ears flattening in shame. He tucked his tail between his hind legs and whined miserably, waiting for her angry reaction. Would she take him back to the cage now? Would she abandon him–lock him up and never return, leaving him there to slowly lose his mind and die?