Chapter Text
Sepia was rather in awe of Urchin. Yes, they were both squirrels from Anemone Wood, but Urchin had always had an air of mystery and importance about him, even before he was a tower squirrel. Sepia was the youngest, smallest, and quietest of her family. She had trouble speaking to most young animals her age. She had known who Urchin and Needle were for most of her life, but they probably had never noticed her before she stood on the dais to sing at the Spring Festival.
Now, she was surprised by how many animals knew her name. King Crispin had summoned her to the tower this morning, and though she knew she had done nothing wrong, nerves fluttered around in Sepia’s stomach like small butterflies. Those butterflies did a few loops when she spotted Urchin and Needle walking with an otter and a small hedgehog by the shore.
“Sepia!” The boisterous young otter, I think he is the captain’s brother, waved at her from where the group of young animals were gathered by the shore. “You melodious lark! Come walk with us!”
Sepia hurried over to the group, her heart leaping into her throat. It’s ok, they are all nice animals. I have no reason to think they won’t be nice to me. Then why am I so nervous? Urchin and Needle were carrying various shells that Hope was scuttling back and forth to hand them.
“Oh, that's a beautiful color. Good find, Hope!” Urchin encouraged the young hedgehog. Needle caught his eye when Hope turned away, giving an exasperated huff and glaring at her forepaws that were struggling to hold the pile of treasures Hope had found for her. Urchin chuckled softly and knocked Needle with his elbow, causing her to fumble a couple shells onto the sandy beach.
“Hullo!” Hope squealed as he trundled towards Sepia. Standing on his tip-paws, Hope poked his wriggling nose up into Sepia’s face, reminding that he was quite near-sighted. “Oh! Sepia!” Hope wrapped his tiny arms around her waist. Sepia carefully returned his hug.
“Hello Sepia!” Urchin grinned at her. Needle looked up from trying to collect the fallen shells and gave her a quick nod. Sepia barely had time to register that Urchin knew her name before Hope was shoving a little pink conch into her paws.
“Hi Urchin, hi Needle.” Sepia made a conscious effort to return their eye contact for a few seconds before letting her gaze fall to her paws. The otter loped along the shoreline, sending a spray over his companions.
“Fingal!” Needle scolded, shaking out her quills. Oh good, she knew his name now. Fingal.
“Sepia, are you a tower squirrel now?” Fingal asked.
“No, I’m not. The King asked to see me though, so I am on my way.”
“Oh no, in trouble with King Crispin?” Fingal widened his eyes in mock shock. Needle elbowed him. Sepia’s stomach tightened a bit, but she tried to shake the feeling of dread. He’s joking, of course he’s joking.
“Do you have a job?” Urchin asked.
“I was assigned to work in the storerooms. I only started a couple of weeks ago.” Sepia replied, “But King Crispin said we are free to choose our own jobs now.”
“Do you think you’ll go back? To the store rooms?” Needle asked.
“I don’t know. I enjoyed organizing, but I didn’t like being underground all day.” Sepia didn’t say the other part. That the constantly bustling and noise was too much for her. Urchin and Needle and Fingal are all so confident, they wouldn’t have trouble talking to the other store room workers.
“You could come work in the tower!” Fingal blurted, “You could work in the kitchen with Crackle, or maybe in the workroom with Needle.”
“I’m not talented…” Sepia muttered, looking at her paws. She was hoping someone would change the subject.
“You’re very talented!” Urchin interjected, “Your singing is so beautiful.”
Sepia felt tingly and hot under her fur, “Oh, I meant with anything useful.” She was suddenly grateful for the shells Hope had tasked her with carrying.
“What do you mean?” Urchin’s voice raised. Sepia worried for a moment that she might have offended him somehow. “Your song is what made King Brushen realize that the culling laws had gone too far. You set the stage for Padra to make his speech. Your singing helped to win over the support of Mistmantle and overthrow Husk! That’s very useful.”
“You sure know how to rally the troops!” Fingal added, giving her a friendly nudge with his muzzle. Needle nodded in agreement.
Sepia slowed her gait, feeling hot beneath her fur. She had never thought of her singing as something that could have an impact. “Thank you,” she said softly, and Urchin smiled as though he understood.
“Hope! That’s too far! Wait for us!” Needle hurried after the small hedgehog as he wandered, waist deep, into the waves.
“I should be going,” Sepia said.
“Join us for lunch later at the spring gate!” Fingal called, before diving into the water to scoop up Hope. Sepia nodded before rushing off towards the tower. The kind words of her new friends filled her with a newfound sense of confidence as she approached the throne room. She felt light as she listened to King Crispin and Captain Arran applaud her performance at the spring festival.
“If it’s not too much trouble, we would love for you to train the children’s choir. It hasn’t been active for a few seasons now, but the island could do with some more music.” Captain Arran implored.
“Something tells me you have a way with the little ones.” Crispin added with a twinkle in his eye.
“I would love to!” Sepia sighed, not quite believing that she would be a tower animal after all.
“Wonderful!” Crispin said, “Well, if you don’t have plans, Arran and I are heading to lunch with the other captains.”
“Oh, thank you, your majesty, but I have friends waiting for me.” Sepia smiled.