100 words each - Agatha after school, Baram at Thanksgiving

For @KissofJudas and @AlphaRaposa's requests.

End of Year 5 of the Addergoole School
Aggie smoothed her skirts and stared at her luggage. Her parents - her foster-parents, she now knew - had sent her a plane ticket, a train ticket, and a bus ticket. Dartmouth. There were worse places.

She glanced over at Tolly. He hadn't picked up her suitcases yet. He hadn't even said anything, since they left the school. "Anatoliy?" That voice always worked. Even since that mess.

He looked down at her, as if seeing her for the first time. "Good luck with your life, Agatha." He stood up taller. "I won't be part of it."

For once, she had nothing to say.

~
November, Year 11 of the Addergoole School

(This is a prequel to the Baram's-Elves stories)

"Going to celebrate Thanksgiving?"

The girl who worked the desk at the shop was chatty, always chatty, even with Baram. He shrugged at her. He didn't bother smiling. Nobody thought it was friendly.

"That this week?"

She laughed, although she was smelling nervous. "Tomorrow. You really didn't know?"

"Really."

He stumped home, thinking about turkey. Squash. Smiling families. Not his thing, not for monsters.

There was a girl on his porch, a skinny girl with long reddish hair. Holding a suitcase. Not looking scared.

"Are you Baram?"

"Am."

"I'm Jaelie, du'Briar Rose. I've heard about you."

Baram tensed. The girl smiled. Smiled. "I'd like to work for you."

Bad Puppy, a continuation for the Giraffe Call

This is for lilfluff's commissioned request for a continuation of this story.

Davyn was quiet. Good puppies were quiet.

Good puppies were also lost, squished, and confused, not to mention terrified. He couldn't completly stop himself from whining, a terrified little noise at the back of his throat. As long as he didn't get too loud, the pain didn't come again.

Even without the punitive jolts of pain, his situation pretty much sucked. The kennel he'd locked himself into was upended, leaving him mushed into the bottom, leaned against some sort of cart, rolling...

...well, he really didn't know where they were going, which was more than half of the problem.

He curled up the best he could in the tight space, nose to knees, and tried not to cry. Not only was crying loud, maybe loud enough to get zapped again, it was embarrassing. He was sixteen, not a kid anymore. Adults didn't go crying like that. Even if they were trapped.
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