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Chapter Text

It had not quite occurred to you what you were doing until the moment one of your bare feet shifted out off the edge of the porch and you managed to snare yourself almost knee-deep into a clinging pile of the extensive and well packed snow that was still drifting down from the pitched dark sky in large, thick flakes that patched against and stuck to everything they came into contact with.

Were your curiosities not dragging at the recesses of your conscience you would have turned around, dismissed the obnoxious thudding, and returned to the small cup of hot cocoa you had still sitting on the counter, still beckoning.

But you knew well that curiosity and the desire to resolve curiosity was a powerful thing that could nag and pull at the mind for days on end. You were alone at home in the midst of an extensive forest with hardly anyone within the near perimeter of your residence for, as you could very well expect, miles. Though your young imagination lit up hundreds of possibilities for the sound you could very well guess it might just as well have been an enormous snow blot from the tops of a tree closer to your home that could have managed to hit the side of the house.

But you were not going to settle for an explanation like that until it was determined first hand and visually.

Though the cold and moistness of the melting snow around your heated skin bit and kicked at your urge to just return inside, you stuck your other foot into the snow with pure disregard for proper footwear. The only footwear that lingered near the proximity of the door were your mother’s slippers. You were not going to put those on, nor bother to retrieve decent footwear in the timeframe you gave yourself. What if whatever was knocking against the side of the house managed to get away before you could make your investigation?

You would only be out there for a minute at the most, you assured yourself. You further assured yourself that you would not get sick from the cold, as you recalled reading an article earlier derived from the passion of boredom that opted to disprove the myth. A bit of you also wanted to test it out for yourself. You were confident with a rather clean household and one other person rarely coming back to visit that you could further prove the theory that though it weakened your immune system you would be perfectly fine.

But that was aside your current objective, and you would prefer to carry on with that instead of the self satisfactory hold on the fact that someone your age could pick apart and understand an article of that density and audience target. It was not expected of many. You were always a bit of a literature genius, even for more scientific articles that truly went into depth with terms.

How proud your mother would be. If she cared, that is. Which you suspected she did not, as the likely response you would receive would be a very simple and unsatisfactory, “mmmh, yes. That’s very good Rosie.” Or something along those lines.

You realized you continued to stand there and make faces as you played her tone over in your head of how she would respond to something you found yourself a bit proud of. It was not quite an exceptional use of your time, at least standing out in freezing weather barefoot and clad in pajamas.

You flicked on the small flashlight you held in your hands, now driven by the realization you were stalling much time, and gave it a couple whacks before the light snapped on.

Grazing it out along the endless darkness almost seemed to be in vain. You could hardly see a few yards in front of you, for it seemed the snow was coming down a bit harder than it actually felt. Though if you were not wearing sleeves, you might have been able to catch a bit more of how heavily the thick flakes were falling and building against the ground. Though you did not need the fuel, this certainly provoked you to hurry and look around near the side of the house you had heard it from before the snow buried whatever had fallen. That was, if it was not simply more snow that had been responsible for hitting the side of the house. You were beginning to have an easier time believing that was what it was.

Regardless, you began trudging through the packing snow, directing the light this way and that. Being outside in the weather with just a flashlight all on your own was actually very exciting. It was the bit of adventure you yearned for on a drab day.

As you continued towards the side of the house that did not harbor layers of frozen water, the initial chill of your feet became something you could ignore completely. It was not as cold in the atmosphere as you expected. Though your breath pooled out in a thick milky mist, the air felt very nice and pleasant.

But that did not mean you should stay out there too long. Yes, you knew that.

You bounced along through the snow, catching a few of the thick flakes in your free hand as you went. It rarely snowed that thickly, and it was the sort of snow fall perfect for packing together snowballs. It was not the loose and powdery type of snow, as pretty as it could be when a breeze drifted through and created the “snow snakes” as you recalled them being remarked as. It was thick, sticking and packing into the panes of the window, and once again – perfect for snowballs.

If you had anyone to even bother waging war against with the natural weapon forces.

It would be nice to pack into something like a snowman, but that would be a bit too cliché for your recent interests. Also, currently rather irrelevant.

You press on, swiping the light along the sheen and untouched surface of the snow that is farther away from the mansion. Closer towards the house along the edges seem much more disturbed and upturned either by something previously having been slinking through it or snow failing into the area from somewhere higher. You were balancing for either option at that point, for there were really only two options to be had. Either something was crowding around the edge of the house and happened to knock against somewhere higher along the wall or snow was hitting the side of the house and falling to the ground en masse.

Your trepidation towards investigating only grew towards the familiarity of the setting as a horror film. A young girl leaves the safety of her household to venture into the snow bidden darkness to investigate strange knocking against her house when there was no one around for miles and miles. You could glance towards the side of the house and almost see a tall dark figure standing there.

But that was silly.

It was only your imagination and you knew just that because you were the one who conjured the thought anyhow. No one would bother you clear out into the forest right? Of course, and you were sticking to the investigation you set yourself up for regardless of what dark horrors your mind was going to conjure – most possibly based off of the genius horrors of Lovecraft or possibly even Noisecraft.

Your resolve was almost once again broken with the outburst of a few sudden slaps of what sounded like plastic against the outer material of the house. The sound itself was not a threatening growl or a dark whisper, but something casual – even so, the abrupt and rapid sound was something that jolted and jittered your nerves to the point it was almost nauseating. When nothing came out from beside the house, you shuffled further through the snow, which at that point was actually beginning to sting a bit, and kept the light forward.

At that point you could confirm that though perhaps some amount of snow was responsible for the almost interminable thrashing against the mansion, it was not completely at fault. Had it been anything larger, you would have immediately sprinted your way back towards the door. Now that you take in realization, your door was still open and pooling out light into the ever fading tracks.

What met your directed light seemed to be relatively small and atramentous or inky. It glimmered where fur did not meet the light, and thrashed against the restrains of something not yet seen.

You were quite captivated, to put it simply, and made a point of announcing your presence by jogging through the rising snow noisily, even if the lack of grace you put into it was not actually intended. What was thrashing had ceased, and peered out from the lingering diagonal shadow of your home to gaze at you with purely fear-ridden emerald opticals. Such did not halt you, but you did linger slower until you closed the distance between yourself and the small crumpled figure to a few short yards, and then a singular yard.

For some species it was pure instinct to hold still when met with danger in order to attempt to conceal themselves. For others it was purely unfortunate they be caught motionless by the cold and crushing embrace of fear. Yet for whichever cause it met, it neglected to move even the slightest bit as you neared and crouched down closer.

It might have been worse if you aimed the flashlight directly at it. You knew very well just how annoying it was to have a flashlight aimed right into your face, and so you refrained by covering it slightly with your hand and allowing a few strands of light outwards to gather the jist of what you were looking at. Dark blue wire – or some sort of string – was hooked in tightly around several places of its body and looser in few others. It was common sense it would hold partial cause of restricting its movement. You had to stop in wasting your time there any longer. It was clearly hurt, and likely very freezing. You were getting to the point of no longer being able to feel your feet, or at least you thought. Most of your senses were numbed by pure excitement by your discovery. It had not been just plain and bland snow, or rather some creep attempting to lure you out of your home. You could risk a bit from an unknown creature to get it inside, otherwise you would feel guilty. Right? If you wrapped it up properly the chances of you being bit or attacked would decrease significantly. So you reasoned.

Now, it would have been purely foolish for you to have not at least brought a blanket to wrap around yourself in the dismissal of any footwear, and you did. Which would come in handy right then. You unwrapped it from around yourself and slid it around the thing in the snow, making sure to keep its head away from facing you. It struggled in a very minor fashion and then fell still and silent once more, aside from the occasional puff of air in the act of deep breathing. You attempted to keep your bare hands from touching it too much, though the partial leathery feel and the fur were enticing. What if it was bleeding and you brushed an open wound? It was too hard to tell with thick flakes blowing in your face and dominating your vision.

You wrapped it up both loosely and securely, tucking your head down and stalking back towards the doorway near the side of the house. Though you would likely be met with snow all over the floor inside, you were thankful for not having closed it. The door was easier to see through the immensely falling snow than it would have been searching for it with your flashlight that hardly penetrated the flakes. The creature shifted within your hold, though you determined it was likely trying to bury more deeply into the given blanket.

It was almost flattering, considering you had learned to knit it yourself and something else found it to be a source of proper comfort.

Chapter Text

You do not know how long it took you to actually make your way towards the door within countless successions of tripping around in the snow that was none too kind to relent in its build.

As you initially expected, the immediate premises around the doorway was slathered in melting snow and soaking the floor. You would have to get to that very soon, but you were sure the floor was going to survive, unlike the thing in your arms.

When you pass through the doorway you are met with an immediate relief of toasty air compared to the frigid landscape outside. What once felt mildly chilly was currently assaulting your body towards more violent shivers and the distinct urge to curl into yourself for warmth. When your feet regained feeling a sharp string was a downplay of words when met with the reality of just how they actually felt. You grit your teeth and seethed a slight hiss before turning and closing the door as well as sweeping out building snow in the process. You were back inside at last, and not as disappointed as you had set yourself up to be.

It had not been a mundane adventure outside to gaze at snow falling from the top of a nearby tree. You were rewarded with the mystery of a living organism; such of which, now that you consider the appearance, almost had a mixture of a wolfish and feline facial structure.

You would be wrong in assuming things too quickly. It was not as if you had a gaze at the creature worth any bravo. You caught a nice glimmer of its eyes, the curiously leather and fluffy texture, and the general outline.

Good job, Lalonde, harboring an unknown creature into your household.

It was better than leaving it out there to freeze to death. You would have known if it would be okay out there. It likely would not have frozen up from its struggling. The colour of its coat was not suited for snowy terrain. There was also the mention of the string, which clearly had it in a complicated bind.

You were just trying to justify your actions.

You gained warmth by walking on through the pleasant exterior of the carpeted surface of the room in which you entered by the door to make your way towards the dining room and then further so towards the kitchen. Walking was a bit of a downplay of the description. You more so decided to bounce around on your burning feet, refraining a hiss of pain. The quieter and more well reserved you could be, the better it would be for the one snuggled into your arms. If both of you could stay calm, and maybe even casual, you could somehow succeed in the task you set yourself at of helping the small animal.

Your destination was precisely where most of the accidents in your household occurred for your mother’s so claimed attempts at cooking when perhaps a bit too inebriated. Sometimes you had to stop and wonder how she even still had her liver functioning properly. Then again, you were not sure how much alcohol the liver could even take. That was not your current concern, nor was it ever much of a concern. It was a snide consideration.

What had your concern was the extensive medical kit in the cabinet beneath the sink that would prove very beneficial, as well as you knew how to utilize it. Hopefully the creature snug in your arms would not harbor anything profuse. In the least, you could certainly unbind it from its restrictions. Anything broken might be out of your range, and when your mother got home you doubt she would be in any condition to drive several miles to the nearest clinic. Sure, there was a Burger King closer than a clinic.

You were beginning to doubt she would even approve of your endeavor as well as the mass of melted snow at the door but you hardly cared. You would care when you got things taken care of; a thought you were confident in. You were intelligent, you were comprehensive and adaptable, you were a quick learner. Any affliction it had you would attempt your best.

You made your way across the kitchen floor with more ease as your feet warmed further and did not hurt any more. They were red, but it was nothing bad. As easily as you could, you set the folded and now writhing bundle onto the counter, being sure to keep it away from the edge as it was squirming around.

Keeping a close eye on the creature’s location, you moved over towards the cupboards beneath the sink and pried the doors open, retrieving the kit and setting it on the counter as well. Adamant hesitation was taken, for you had hardly gotten a decent look at it before. You racked your brain for what could be both leathery and fuzzy. Perhaps something that had lost some of its fur and just felt a bit leathery beneath it. Perhaps leather was a harsh term. The skin was hard but also smooth and soft in some places.

When you reached over and began to move the blanket, it stilled itself once more, giving a small squabble of what you could only imagine as either pain or fear. Perhaps both, sensing her nearby or finding a large amount of discomfort in the wiry string around it. The kit had scissors somewhere in the assortment.

In moving the blanket you also noticed a bright green substance. A shade comparable to a bit of a light jade. Jade, you recall, as the name of a friend you met just a couple months ago. Thinking no other source for what the jade could be, it suddenly hit you that perhaps you were dealing with one of the many variations of troll. Of which were rare, and surely well sought after. Seeing anything like that near your house was unthinkable. You would sooner expect an octopus monster, which was even more ridiculous considering the type of water that was around your house.

Though there were many types comparable to common animals there were distinct differences that set them as trolls all the same. Just many variations. You’ve seen some that can look like chinchillas, which actually seems to be a fairly common version of them. They were noted and revered for their adaptable intelligence and curious aberrational blood caste system. That was the simple overview you gave yourself, just to be clear on things. You almost doubted yourself, saying the jade liquid could be something else, but there was too much jade and absolutely no red.

You bared a bit of your teeth, only because the more you moved around the more jade seemed smeared all over the blanket. How much could they lose? It was not soaked, but, well, it was a lot –

As though you were almost nearing the point of considering it dead because of the lack of movement and the sight before you, it decided to take the initiative of slowly poking its head out at you, peering with enormous eyes almost pitched black from how large its pupils were. Hopefully the single light you had on in the kitchen was not going to hurt its eyes.

Had you been anyone else you could have pitched a tone of pure adoration. Her face was cutely round and well-proportioned. The disheveled curls of hair purely amplified it. You could almost see the shapes of the horns, but it was well firmed on sinking back into the cover you had given it upon taking a glance at you. Almost expecting something to leap out and attack you with razor teeth and red eyes – this was an immense surprise.

It furthered your confidence that, yes, you could help this creature. But you would need to actually get to it. You reached over and dimmed the light with the turn dial, thankful you had one at this point. You rarely saw the point towards settling light into a specific dim frame, but it proved to come in handy then. Their eyes could be sensitive.

It took you a moment to go through with removing the cover, to extract it from its source of comfort, but you saw few possibilities of harm towards yourself, so you pried it apart to spread it out over the counter, even as the creature once again began to struggle in the realization of being exposed.

Well, you don’t think wings were something you expected. Let alone the leathery assortment absolutely telltale similar to that of bats. One was strapped tightly against its side, while the other was flexing and unflexing – or more so twitching than anything else. You refuted simply staring at it and rummaged for a pair of scissors, making sure it stayed just where it was, and for the first time you spoke to it. As cooly and softly as you could, an assuring tone. “Come on now, hold still for a second…” Your resolve for such was, though it seemed a bit on the wild side, maybe it picked up a bit of English that wasn’t disdain towards her presence. Bats weren’t enjoyed, troll or not. Their species had a knack for picking out snippets of your language.

She hunkered down with large ears flat past her horns. One, you fondly considered to look like the other except it was as if someone just bent the tip down and smoothed it. Uniquely casual. When it did nothing but continue to stare at you with large, fearful eyes, you took to carefully cutting and prying away more crippling string and lining along her pinned wing, which also made the hold on her body as a whole lessen, and her breathing seemed notably less convulsive. You hadn’t even noticed the slight convulsions until she actually appeared to be breathing properly.

You’ve noted it female by sheer appearance, even if you were not sure how trolls were classified. It had a girlish impression, and it may have been better than continuing to refer to her as an it. A demeaning, objective gesture that you were thankful to never vocalize. Perhaps you could even just ask it – her – later, if she was able to comprehend or even willing to answer.

When you managed to untangle the material, after cutting it in several places, she manages a weak sort of snivel and stretches out with a clearly given assertion of pain on her expression, but continued nevertheless as if she found it mandatory. It might have been. You had no idea how long she had been in the restricting position out there in the snow. It might have even been her that hit against the side of the house. It made sense. Was anything broken then? You’ve heard bats are very sensitive to shock. This was not a regular bat, though. It just looked disheveled, cold, and practically mortified.

So you hoped for the best.

The material had cut into her fur, which is where some of the jade seeped out, and rubbed much of the skin raw. You had some burn medication you could put on it, and some of the cuts along the skin could be mended with strong Band-Aids and otherwise. But that was not going to work for the areas with puffy fur. You found wrapping material, though, and anesthetic that promised no burn on the label. You had never had it put on you.

She squirmed and writhed away from your hands, which you made sure to have clean, and bared her teeth at you in warning. You would not touch near her head. In an odd way, the two very apparent fangs that were pointed in your direction were cute. It might have just been her facial structure as a whole. Despite the fact you had a light present, her orbs were as wide and blackened as a playful cat with an immense curiosity. It struck a soft spot in you to a point of almost being debilitating.

The creature acted as if you had done the most awful thing in the world by reaching over and trying to hold her still, wary to keep away from any obvious wounds. She wailed and squabbled nonsense – more noises than you initially thought possible from her. You thought perhaps you heard a small “noooooo” somewhere amidst the wailing. Though it actually wrenched your heart a bit, you applied the spray on anesthetic and the bandages on some parts of her wings that had gotten scraped up.

Maybe some deeper into the thicker parts of her fur needed stitching. You were beginning to debate it, but you could not stitch. Sewing was not your thing. Even as knitting was similar on its own resolve, this was a live creature, not a blanket. After a bit of struggling you managed to get the spray substance on and a bit of ointment. Pressure and touch were going to hurt; you knew that well after your own many accidents so common of a curious being, but it was also a necessity.

You were pretty sure if dropping into the side of the side of the house, snared in claustrophobic-inducing material, stranded in the snow with hardly a hope of getting free before freezing, all failed to shock her systems – you were certainly doing that now.

You managed to get the wrapping material and something to soak blood wrapped around her decently even in the somewhat frantic squirming that was slowly subsiding. Maybe she realized you were trying to help her and not wrap her up to stick in a fryer. Or maybe she was just getting tired. She was panting, and she had lost a lot of blood previously, but either way you could at least adjust it all better before securing it. You didn’t need to look anything up – this had been done to you plenty of times.

You made more of a mess than your mother would have, oddly enough. There was green smeared along your hands and all over the blanket. You wondered how easily that would wash out. It was still blood, after all. You were more content on giving the creature your attention. She was too adorable for her own good. Even eyebrows were actually very visible. Her features were human-like in several ways. The urge to poke at her cheeks struck you, but you obviously refrained. It was simply an adorable shape of cute circular. Everything about her was small and cute, even for your size. You would hope to get a better look at her when either of you were not absolutely distraught. That was a bit of an overstatement for you.

You were calm, albeit shocked you actually succeeded through all that without getting bitten or having her body lapse into absolute shock. You supposed she would have to withstand all of that. Regardless, her breathing was more regulated though she did not seem to be moving much anymore. Her wings hurt too much. She needed rest.

You did not want to leave here there alone to go fetch a new blanket. She could also use a wash from all of it that coated her, but you had a feeling that would be even more traumatic and she certainly did not need that right now. You made it clear that you were just going to wrap the blanket over her again, even with that lack of words, she understood, and was very willing to snuggle into its depths.

Your room seemed to be the best place for her.