The Subterranean Rodentian Tales: - Andrea M. Welsh (classic books for 13 year olds .TXT) 📗

had the scents of other creatures.

 

He smelled rats, mice, the occasional scent of a chipmunk, and ones he had no names for. As he walked, the tunnel became wider and taller; what creature would need this much room? He was baffled by the size, so use to being crammed in small tunnels. Reformation was going all over the tunnels, since he was use to the walls guiding him as he went. However, this was much different. The space sent chills down his spine, as he felt vulnerable on every side.

 

He even jumped once at the sound of dripping of water. Realizing what it was, he had an urge to take a drink. After all, it's important for rats to stay hydrated. How much would one pitstop hurt? Then again, he could loose his way. This was a rather wide tunnel. He stopped for a minute, and stroked his long whiskers.

 

The inside of his mouth felt dry as he ran his tongue across the sharp, jagged teeth of a rat. This was a matter that should be considered for survival. Maybe the kingdom would have water. Then again, it it's a day journey's away... But if he looses his way, he's doomed. It was a tough decision.

 

 He sat down, and thought about it. The thirst continued to grow, yet he was loosing precious time. He needed a plan. Keep going North, or take a pitstop to the West? Either one could be a dangerous decision. What if he defied both? Then again, that would be impossible. Sighing, he layed down, and stared at the dirt-covered sky, giving off no light.

 

 

Maybe if he took a nap, he could think more clearly. Then again, he could get eaten by a snake. He had to keep moving. Getting up, he brushed off the dirt that collected in his white pelt. Circling himself, the spot reeked of his own scent. The place he was walking in was getting packed in, making it feel like stone in comparison to the crumbly, rich soil.

 

That's he got an idea. What if he left tracks so he could find his way back? Little did he know, this was a common behavior of rats. Smiling to himself, he slowly stomped as he worked his way to the sound of dripping water. After smelling the faint scent of himself in each stop, he would move along. Reformation also pushed the sides with his feet so he could feel his way through his own personal path.

 

The droplets echoed more and more as he got closer. He kept his pace, licking his lips impatiently. Just when he should have been greeted with a cool refreshment, the dripping stopped. Puzzled, he looked around. Where did it go? Before he got a chance to freak out, his head suddenly felt something cold and damp land on his head, and roll down his back, flattening his fur. Frozen, he felt on top of his head, and tasting.

 

A grin sweeped across his face. It was water. Reaching his hands up in the air, he waited to feel the cool liquid splash against his pink hands. The wait was tedious, but worth it. Lapping it up as it landed in his palms, he heard a voice behind him.

 

"What're you doing?" questioned an unfamiliar voice.

 

Reformation nearly jumped out of his skin.

 

swallowing, he answered, "Drinking some fine quality H2O."

 

The creature moved closer. The scent confirmed it was a mouse, as it was herbal and earthy.

 

The mouse chuckled. "Well, you're not going to get much that way. Let me show you."

 

Reformation's eyes had ajusted only enough to see a faint outline of a half circle object being held out with two hands. The water dripped into it, and slightly sloshed as the mouse brought it down.

 

"Now, easy. It'll spill pretty easily." said the mouse, handing it to Reformation. Carefully edging his lips on the end of the clay bowl, He drank deeply, feeling refreshed.

 

"Thank you, sir. I needed that." squeaked Reformation, wiping away the excess water dripping off of his chin.

 

"No problem. So where'r you heading to?" said the mouse, following Reformation as he made his way back to his spot.

 

Reformation looked over, surprised by the mouse's comfort with him. "I'm making my way to Bonríonae for a job." he answered.

 

The mouse sniffed. "I happen to be going the same way. Talk about coincidence!"

 

"So why are you going?" asked Reformation, feeling like a worthy being for the first time.

 

The mouse hesitated a little bit. "Business matters. It's... hard to explain." The shorter rodent said, speaking slowly.

 

Reformation wasn't skilled enough in social interaction to catch the hesitation. "It must be important." Concluded the rat.

 

"Like you wouldn't beleive!" said the mouse breathily, expanding its arms outwards in an explosion motion.

 

Reformation smiled happily. Chester was right! Mice are less judgemental!

Chapter Five: It's a Brand New World

So as they continued through the dark tunnel, the mouse was giving Reformation several tips in order to get a job. One of the main things was finding a farmer that is poorer. While they may not pay much at first, the help would allow the farm to grow. This also means you'd gain more trust and respect, and further down the lines you'd get a decent income.

 

Reformation was fond of a win-win situation. Not only would he benifit, but he would also be helping someone else as well. It was perfectly simple. However, Reformation didn't know how he would find someone of the sort. Were the local farms poor? Or were they rich and prosperous? Either way, there was still the matter of getting to the farms without dying of starvation of dehydration before even reaching them.

 

The mouse told him not to worry, but the white rat was still unsure of himself. Even so, wasn't there the risk of snakes? Or worse, foxes? What about scelusans? He couldn't bear the thought of another scelusan attacking him or the farm.

 

He was lucky that one time. It's common knowledge that scelusans usually travel in packs or gangs. Even their name sounds ferocious. Not to mention, what they would do to the rest of the town. With as much food is over there, it's a wonder they don't take over the kingdom. Then again, there isn't enough water for the gangs to survive. This would certainly cause terf wars between all of the packs.

 

However, he would have to quit thinking about this if he wished to survive. If he let his thoughts overwhelm him, nothing would get done. Taking a deep breath, he looked around. He realized how strange it was that he was moving the entire time he was thinking. You'd think deep thought would make you stand still.

 

The mouse was still beside him, mumbling to himself about how Bubonic was destroying everything. Confused, Reformation chimed into the silence of the eerie tunnels.

 

"Who's Bubonic?" asked Reformation childishly.

 

The mouse looked startled as he snapped his head in Reformation's direction. "Oh... No one! It's... Er-complicated..." he responded defensively.

 

As usual, Reformation didn't see any issue with this peculiar reaction. So, he turned his head back to the pitch black that consumed the tunnels blinding him of any objects in front of him. The barely visible walls echoed the pitter-patter of their feet as they moved along in the melancholic tunnel. It wasn't until several hours until Reformation saw a dim light in the black air, trying to keep from being smothered.

 

"We're almost there." yawned the mouse, obviously tired.

 

As the starving light started to become full and consuming everything, Reformation began to squint. He had never been in an area of such light. He covered his face with his arm, trying not to let the white attack his eyes.

 

As the mouse was able to see, a look of terror wiped across his face as he looked over to Reformation.

 

"Wait... You're, a rat?" gasped the mouse.

 

"Well, yes. How did you not know?" asked Reformation, looking over at him and still squinting from the intense lighting.

 

The mouse sighed, and began to raise his hand to his snout.

 

"I'm nose-blind." he muttered.

 

Reformation felt sorry for the poor mouse. Without his sense of smell, Reformation wouldn't be able to find his way. As if noticing his pity, the mouse turned to him with a glare.

 

"Don't feel sorry for me. It won't help me any." he squeaked. 

 

Reformation turned his head away as if the conversation didn't happen. The silence made things awkward, so Reformation began on a new subject.

 

"Why is there so much lighting?" he sniffed.

 

"Crops need light to grow. So, we have to keep it well-lit." answered the mouse, not even looking at Reformation.

 

Reformation was shocked by this new information. What kind of weird thing needs light to survive? It didn't make any sense what so ever. After all, everyone was adapted to living in darkness. So how come these bizarre recources didn't? The question baffled and amazed him.

 

He thought up theories in his head as they continued to walk. The light was still bothering him, but his eyes had adjusted him. He tried to picture himself as a plant so he could accept the light. This may seem silly, but it was working.

 

They were finally reaching the gates, which was gaurded by two buff mice wearing silver armor. Their helmets were thimbles, their armor was chainlink on the arms and thick sheets on the chest, and the tail was protected by a thin sheet of chainlink as well. Not only that, but belts of satin wrapped around their waists, their glossy-black color pleasing to Reformation's eyes. In the belt was a sheath for their swords, much more tenacious than that of the scelusan he had fought two days ago. 

 

The gates were also silver, elaborately patterned with swallows and a mythical plant known as a flower. The whole thing was marvelous, and too much for the eye to take it all in. It's a shame it took him more than a day to get here. 

 

"Well, I guess this's were we part, amigo. Godspeed!" said the mouse, handing the guards a small peice of onion paper. 

 

The gaurds nodded in approval, and handed him back the slip of paper. 

 

"Wait, I never caught your name!" shouted Reformation.

 

"My name's Simon!" he called back.

 

Simon. That was an odd name! Then again, so was his own. He wondered where he even got his name from. His thoughts were interrupted by the hoarse voice of one of the guards.

 

"Rat, don't just stand there. State your name and your business. " He chattered.

 

"My name is Reformation. I came here to work." he puffed confidently.

Chapter Six:

 The two guards exchanged glances,