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Gazelle takes a deep breath, swallowing down the food trying to regurgitate itself. She didn’t have enough time to get a full meal between shows and it was starting to affect her. The lovely chefs had prepared a small portion, but they didn’t realize her second stomach was also empty from a similar situation only a few days ago. Even if she had had time to properly fill up, the attempt would have been nullified by her dramatic show theatrics.
Her ear twitched suddenly, a sound from far off grazed it. Instincts were becoming harder to control, stress finally getting to the pop-star. The perfectly curated persona was becoming harder to keep in place, like a rotting mask. Flight or fight mode had started to take its place back, a recent tigress stalker digging it up. The orange and black predator had somehow made her way to the VIP site backstage. She then tried to enter into Gazelle’s private dressing room, the running idea was that the tigress planned on getting one of her outfit changes.
Lights started to dim as the finishing touches to her appearance were added. Unconsciously, Gazelle’s spine shivered, making her run a chill throughout her body. The cold of the winter district didn’t aid. With a final deep breath -putting her worries as far back into her mind as possible- Gazelle took up her award-winning smile and slipped onto the moving stage.
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Gazelle wished she could fall into a coma and sleep the rest of her interviews away. Instead, harsh fluorescents stung her eyes in a way that prevented them from watering. A makeup team of names she hadn’t had the time to remember flittered round her, touching up eyeshadow, highlights, lipstick, etc. A weary sigh was muffled by the sheer amount of noise, only a small eyebrow raise from an intern, who quickly smiled away.
You would think that interviews would get easier to deal with, her being in the industry for years now, but for Gazelle they all felt the same. Her rise in popularity also raised the same questions. In the past 11 interviews, she had been asked the same questions with increasing pressure: Are you dating Mayor Winddancer? When might your next tour be? Can we expect to see some little ones running around soon? Are you aware of the… fiction (Gazelle knew they wanted to specify the spice about her) written about you?
Over and over and over. The same every time.
To keep her mind off the next session of anxieties, Gazelle start to make mock answers to these questions. She started tame, just as the questions did, but rapidly she evolved. No, she was single. Expect a show along with my new album! Since she wasn’t willing to settle down quite yet, kids weren't on the radar. She was aware of both the wholesome ones and the pepper-hot graphic ones.
Secretly, to no one would she admit, Gazelle liked to indulge in the tag “Gazelle needs a hug”. A quite common one, surprisingly. Using a special, private account, she interacted with thousands of fics where varying animals noticed her pain and came to comfort her. She was less inclined to view the shipping fics, clicking off when anything sexual started to appear, but otherwise she read them through. Somehow, these ordinary people could feel her pain, even relate to it. She found fics by all types of creature -with or without thumbs. The authors got so much correct, yet not an amount that made her feel stalked. Enough she felt seen but not viewed like a statue, displayed for all to gawk at.
The interview went as planned, repetitive questions were asked and answered accordingly. A few hours later, after a few cocktails, Gazelle was sound asleep. Face down in a hotel room that felt too stale to be in when she was awake. To an outside observer, the scene was peaceful, blinds drawn with only ambient light filtering through the luxurious bathroom.
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Gazelle’s birthday was right around the corner, but she wasn’t sure how to celebrate. The exact date was unknown and frequently discussed by the public. Gazelle made sure it stayed that way, taking differing weeks off each year.
For the past few years she had been invited to events on her supposed birthday. Thousands would have envied her, if they knew. But, Gazelle never went. Her birthday week, no matter when it was celebrated, was meant to be all about her. She silenced her devices, told only three people where she expected to be and stotted away.
But, one of these invites caught her eye. It looked more like a brochure, since Gazelle noticed a copy at the front entrance of the hotel lobby. Advertised as a silent retreat of sorts, it claimed to be so remote in the mountains that only a max of ten people -minus staff- were allowed at once lest they disturb the peace.
For a week, Gazelle had carefully thought the offer over, but with nowhere better to go, she scheduled five days, Monday through Friday.
-----
With one final interview, Gazelle shed her pressed and ironed dress, tempted to shred it, before changing into attire worthy of a train ride. Soft, khaki cargo pants, a non-descript long-sleeved shirt, and a hoodie to hide her identity. Double-checking she had everything, Gazelle set off to the train stop.
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Trees flashed by, slowly turning to mountain terrain. Gazelle spied a few mountain goats hiking along different trails. The smell of pine slowly wafted into the train cabin. Surely, but slowly, passengers slowly departed until only three remained. Gazelle, a mountain lion and a lion with a fluffy mane. Gazelle noticed small vines were woven into the lion’s mane. The smell of weed mixed with the pine scent. As time passed it grew increasingly clear that the trio was going to the same place.
Gazelle shifted uncomfortably, tightening the grip on her back. She noticed the duo opposite her repeatedly glanced at her. The tigress was fresh in the front of her mind. The lions once again glanced at her, but this time their eyes stayed on the star. Gazelle gulped, she really hoped they weren’t going to bombard her, or worse, send her location out into the world. Phones were explicitly banned at the retreat, but anything was possible.
The mountain lion whispered to their partner, rushed. The lion slowly scowled, sobering from his plants. Gazelle stiffened, unconsciously turning her back to the wall. The mountain lion mumbled something, which Gazelle caught the last words of, “prick.”
Gazelle wanted out. The lions obviously knew her, maybe they were friends of the tigress and heard what happened. Gazelle was beginning to regret not bringing an escort. Regrettably, she hadn’t wanted to spend too much in case the retreat turned out to be a fluke; the retreat was expensive enough.
Gazelle shifted her hooves, she wished to leave and hide somewhere -before she had a panic attack. She would’ve done it already, if she hadn’t overheard comments from the train staff about getting dozens of autographs from the pop-star. Cautiously, she started to realize that might be the better of the two options.
Seconds passed in tense quiet, only humbling heard from the lions. At last, the maned lion stalked over, ripping through the atmosphere. The mountain lion slinked in pursuit.
Gazelle’s heart was beating faster than a cheetah can run. In a last ditch attempt for them to leave them alone, Gazelle flashed a smile. The duo paused. It seems they weren’t expecting that. The maned lion, still untrusting but slightly more open, spoke first.
“You got a problem with us, ma’am?” His accent was strong with southern twang. It caught her off-guard for a minute, still being used to city accents. Gazelle quickly responded with a shake of her head, intentionally having to slow it down, instinct making her rush.
“Really?” The lion tilted his head curiously, “It seemed like it. Are ya lying? You got something against us carnivores? Most of us don’t bite, ya know?”
The mountain lion shifted behind the lion to lean against the wall, arms crossed. His meek demeanor seemingly forgotten. Gazelle’s gaze flashed rapidly to the door. It was slowly coming to fruition that the lion duo was unaware of who she was. The option of going to get help from the staff fell off the podium at that realization.
Gazelle looked back at the manned lion. “My apologies. Something happened to me recently that you two reminded me of. A bit of a flash back, right?”
She tried to go for a fear-free, placating tone. Wrong move.
“Oh,” the lion snipped, “all us big cats must look terribly alike. Paws, tails, ears. Is that right?”
Gazelle paled, she hadn’t meant that at all. What she meant was-
“No! I meant that I had a recent stalker. She was a tigress and held herself very similar to how you did. I’m a well known singer, so I assumed you two recognized me. The train staff had already gossiped about asking me for dozens of autographs. I booked this trip to relax and enjoy myself. It felt like that wasn’t going to happen due to either you two bombarding me, my location getting leaked, or something of the sorts. I’ve been really stressed lately, so my mind kicked into overdrive and panicked. I didn’t intend to offend either of you!”
Both lion’s eyes met as they processed the word vomit. Gazelle's voice was shaky and rough as her tear ducts drew up water. A minute passed in taut tranquility, all three scared of saying the wrong thing.
“Nevermind, forget I-” Gazelle began but was spoken over.
“This is totally our fault! It’s been so hard with all the prejudice, so we assumed you were the same. Neither of us listen to music so we didn’t recognize ya. We are so, so sorry, we’ll leave you to yourself. Have a nice trip. No hard feelings I pray?” The mountain lion said as the duo ushered themselves away.
Gazelle leaned back against the wall, a breath leaving her as muscles untensed. Her knees felt weak but somehow she stayed upright. She let her eyes close and the rest of herself relax.
-----
A large, painful jerk awoke Gazelle. She stumbled slightly, almost falling over. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, Gazelle realized the train was at her stop. Gazelle glanced over at where the lion couple had previously retreated to, hoping to follow them to the retreat.
Not seeing them, Gazelle huffed, annoyed at herself for falling asleep. Careful to avoid the train staff, Gazelle exited and made her way to a street map. Conveniently, there were only two very well marked locations on the map. The train station and the retreat.
Gazelle started a brisk walk in the direction stated. Surprisingly, she rapidly caught up with the lions. They appeared to be taking their time, unworried at the 7:00 pm closing time. For a few minutes Gazelle dallied over whether or not she should ask if they were willing to walk with her.
“Come on, lass. We’ll walk with you.”
What Gazelle hadn’t noticed while she was dallying, was that the duo had slowed down to match her pace, only slightly in front of her. Gazelle looked up at the maned lion, partially surprised by the offer. She agreed.
As they walked together, the lions spoke of what normally occurred during the retreat. Each word pulled Gazelle in, she was hypnotized. She didn’t talk much as they padded along, but the lions made up for it tenfold.
-----
As they approached a forest, the bright, neon green of a sign caught Gazelle’s attention. It read:
Welcome to:
Yax’s Retreat
Inji Your Stay
Even though ‘enjoy’ was spelt horrendously wrong, Gazelle felt a warm, homey feeling flood her body, as if the fauna was reaching out to comfort her.
At last, the trio made it to their destination. The lions -Lilith and Lux she was given- left Gazelle to get acquainted with the faculty. Which there seemed to be none of.
Walking into a rickety wooden cabin, soft, calming music was the first thing to grace Gazelle’s twitching ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted glass wind chimes chiming all around the edges of the cabin. Her gaze was drawn forward to a yak meditating in the middle of an open room. His hair was fluffier than a cattail, with twigs and leaves littered throughout.
Gazelle broke the calming aura by clearing her throat. The yak shook his head then slowly lifted his head. She realized she must’ve woken him from his slumber.
“Heyyyy youuuurrr that ooooneee… rapper, rrrrright?” His speech was slurred and elongated. He was noticeably high.
Gazelle made a so-so motion with her hand. “I’m a pop singer, yes. I booked a 5-day stay here and was trying to check in.”
“Yoooouuuurrr gonnnaaa waaaanna book a lonnnngggeeer time. Fffffor a diiiiiscount, duuuhhh.”
Gazelle was floored by his boldness. Was it so great of a retreat that it gave the user an ego? She supposed she had nothing to lose if it did give her one -besides her popularity of course.
-----
The yak had been right. Currently, she surpassed a month's stay at the retreat. The days were terribly structured, which she quickly loved. Most days she meditated, others she went to the lakeside pool and swam around. Food was abundant and delicious. Gazelle let herself fall into the laid back lifestyle.
-----
For a reason she still couldn’t figure out, birds flocked to her like they would a tree. Regularly, she would find herself pulling sticks and feathers out of her hair. Gazelle’s normally straightened hair returned to its natural state, and it was becoming a hassle to maintain.
Embarrassingly slow, Gazelle managed to catch onto the fact that the birds felt safe around her. They trusted her time and time again, trying to get her to hold their nests.
Once she realized this, Gazelle made sure the next time she meditated to leave a pile of sticks, soft fur, and leaves in hopes to coax the birds into nesting. It took a few days, but the birds -robins she found out- built a nest and started to frequent it.
A few weeks later, just after mating season, she felt the first eggs arrive in the nest. Now, Gazelle made sure to keep her posture straight and to not move her head more than necessary, as to not disturb or roll the eggs.
----
There it was in her hoofs. A baby bird no bigger than an apple. She cradled it carefully in between her two hoofs, the parents perched on her shoulder. The baby’s previous hunger-pained chirps had ripped at her heartstrings, but thankfully they quieted down after a meal from their mother.
The trust, cuteness, and tranquility almost brought Gazelle to tears. She hoped she could be a good god-mother to this little angel, as well as the many more sure to come.