Storm Season | Shelha Series 2 | ✔

On the Lake

Two creatures pushing an empty raft went a lot faster than taking turns, and the water was still smooth by the time the Coppertails jumped ashore. They had passed three island remains on the trip, but this five-hill cluster was still intact. The first three hilltops were connected just above the water, a wave barrier sheltering a lagoon and two small, forested mounds. Rotten tree-tips scraped the raft's bottom as Firebrand guided it into the cove. Taz jumped ashore to scout.

The triple hill would not be of much use shelter-wise; it was bare and grassy. Taz got to one forested islet in a running jump. He found himself in a sturdy grove of trees, whose interlocking roots had held them together against the weather thus far. The second forest islet was a short swim away and proved identical to the first, though it would be slightly more sheltered from a northwest gale.

Firebrand joined him when he called her over. "Used to be a whole bunch of cabins right down there between these hills," she panted, indicating the lagoon. "Check around for a cellar."

The last hut they had seen had had a cave-like storage unit up a nearby hill. Taz checked both forested islets and the triple-hill. He found a cellar, but it was already underwater.

A small breeze sprang up, rustling the trees and sending ripples scooting across the lake. The hush that had fallen over the waterscape intensified as the wind died away.

"Go run," said Firebrand, shoving Taz towards the triple hill as he ran into her for the second time. Taz leaped to the taller islands. He began to run up each and jump down to the land bridges between them, over and over again. Then he tore down a hill and leaped back to the islet, weaving a crazy pattern through the trees. Firebrand beat him out of the hollow she was storm-proofing. He hopped to the islet's top, lay down for five heartbeats, leaped up again and went back to the triple hill. Firebrand could see how his kind would do well on the Rock flats.

Clearing the gap herself, Firebrand climbed the triple hill. A piling cloudline was advancing in the north, its underbelly the deep, smoky grey of Whitewing wings. Even from this distance she could make out sparks of lightning.

By midday, copper-length waves slapped the shoreline. The cloud line was still coming, but already the sky had filmed over in a wispy white haze. The wind began to build fast. Waves crashed. In a heartbeat, it was pouring so hard the lake vanished. Leaves were stripped from branches and branches were snapped. The Coppertails huddled at the back of their hollow while torrents of rainwater gushed through it, soaking paws and splashing drenched and filthy pelts.

The rain did not slow until midmorning. The wind kept up until midday, littering the ground with branches. At last it too relented, falling to a chilly blowing and the occasional stiff gust. It set both Coppertails shivering as they ventured out to scout the damage.

Taz could not remember the last time he had felt so miserable. He was wet and shaking in the cold, and grit in his fur made his legs and underbelly itch. Leaves clung to him like static. Even a quick rinse-off in the lagoon was little consolation, for the water was nearly as cold as the rain had been. Firebrand took this all with a grim stoicism that made Taz wonder what Leslanders did when it stormed.

Their raft was still intact, thank Shelha, though one of the triple-hill's land bridges had washed clean away, letting the waves pound in. The newly formed double-hill and its sibling had sustained considerable damage where the bridge had been. The second forested islet had been right in the waves' path. Trees listed off the top of the bank where its middle had been.

The wind was steady and southward-blowing, so the Coppertails collected leafy boughs and rigged a kind of sail on the raft. Soon they were moving at a fair clip across the water. Firebrand navigated and adjusted the 'sails' from the back of the raft. Taz found a place to stand at the very front, where the wind blew his fur backwards but where his nose could point straight ahead like he could smell the adventures waiting there.