“Look lively.”
The Grim Reaper* #quote
Do optimists look at the Moon and say it's half full while
pessimists say it's it's half empty? Anyway onto the flash fiction!
Nuts And Knights
“I, Sir Fluff, claim this tree in the name of the Scampering
Kingdom,” proclaimed the squirrel knight while he waved his
sharpened stick in the air. Though Sir Fluff didn't have strong armor
like a human knight he possessed a powerful look. The knight lived as
the youngest knight ever in his court, but became accepted for his
famous feet of scaring a hawk away with just a look. The women of the
kingdom loved his tough, brown fur.
An old voice called out to Sir Fluff from several branches above,
“My people were here first boy. Before the humans set up their
camps and took this tree for the many winters. I've come to reclaim
it for the Bigpaw Kingdom.”
Sir Fluff needed to only a single glance at the old squirrel to know
who he was. Sir Picnic used to have a different name but managed to
raid human places constantly for food. A constant survivor he's
managed to live longer than any squirrel despite being in constant
danger. Some people call him immortal. But his gray hair indicates
otherwise. Elders usually possessed either a happy or jaded
expression. Sir Picnic's eyes focused on Sir Fluff with intent to
react to whatever he would do next, but his body remained calm as
well. His body language only prepared him to react to combat, not
anything social, so Sir Fluff couldn't read him at all. A human would
compare it to talking to a recording.
“It doesn't matter what stake of ownership you had so many winters
ago.” Sir Fluff pointed his stick at Sir Picnic. The sword of his
matched Sir Picnic's in sharpness. “By international law, human
invasion resets land borders. Now that they have left it is open to
be reclaimed by anyone.”
Sir Picnic responded, “I did not see you arrive before me, and you
did not see me arrive before you. So there is only one way to resolve
this. A duel.”
“I accept.” Sir Fluff hoped this opportunity came up. His claim
to fame was scaring away the hawk with a look, but many people said
something else may have caused the hawk to go away. If he won this
duel he would prove himself some other way. Get glory for his kingdom
and self.
The standard rules for a squirrel duel were simple. First to fall
off the tree and hit the ground lost. The rules do not specify
whether or not they have to be alive when this happens.
Sir Fluff jumped to the branch Sir Picnic stood on and it bounced up
and down from his weight. He tried to use this to surprise the old
man but the lunge from sword was blocked. They began going back and
forth with their blows, the blades meeting with the rattle of
clashing wood. Sir Picnic held the skill acquired from age, but Sir
Fluff held the strength of youth. Neither let up.
Sir Fluff parried a blow while yelling, “You will not have a
single acorn from this tree old man!”
Sir Picnic replied in a much more reserved voice, “Arrogant boy.
You don't deserve to hold a sword.”
The squirrels continued their fight. A strong wind wobbled the
branches. They both saw this as an opportunity and took a risky
lunge. Their swords slashed the sides of each others arms. They both
dropped their weapon and their fur turned red. They maintained their
positions on the branches while the blades dropped to the ground.
Sir Fluff then said to his opponent, “Do we fight the savage way?”
The old squirrel's disposition changed from his difficult to read
composure, to a more depressed face. The savage way meant to bite at
each other. A brutish way to battle. To even come to that sullied his
honor. And to him that was a dishonorable way to go. Because the
second thing he knew was that he was already dead. “This fight is
over. Go back home. Rest and you may live. I will die.”
“You mean, the spirits of the air?” Sir Fluff replied.
Sir Picnic then said to him, “Yes, I'm too old to possibly fight
them. I don't care enough about this tree to make you have less of a
chance to live. Go home, rest, and maybe you can live.” The
squirrels didn't understand bacteria and sickness. They knew that
when your flesh opened and became exposed to air you could get sick.
They assumed angry spirits of the air did it. “Don't worry about me
I'll make my death quick.”
Sir Fluff looked at the old squirrel. The gray squirrel who lived
through so many perils. He then yelled, “This isn't how it was
supposed to end! Tales that get passed down for generations don't end
with the knights just walking away from each other!” Sir Picnic
jumped from branch to branch heading nearing the ground. “You're
robbing me old man!” Sir Fluff hopped down after him. “This is
supposed to be the fight where I conquer the most legendary knight in
all the kingdoms and my lords select me as leader of court's knights.
This is supposed to be where my children, grandchildren,
great-grandchildren get their title. I can't come home with this kind
of story! This is not what either of us deserve...”
Sir Picnic landed on the ground and picked up his blade. He turned
to Sir Fluff and told him, “Life isn't a story boy. At least not
the story you want it to be.” Sir Picnic then took his sword and
ended his life quickly instead of being consumed by the spirits of
the air. The acorn tree now belonged to Sir Fluff and the Scampering
Kingdom.
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