ORIGIN

Oliver sneezed when the weasel went tumbling over his snout--flinching--but otherwise did not react. He wasn't sure how to.

The cat was large, but not as big as he'd been worried about; not a lion or the like. And she didn't seem like she wanted to eat him--she seemed worried. He backed off a little, sitting on his haunches and simply listening, unsure. He was glad, on the one hand, that Envy had found their mother--and on the other, he felt now like he was intruding. He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder, then looked forward.

Politely quiet, glow-stone still clutched in one taloned hand, he waited quietly to be either acknowledged or dismissed.

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}

Oliver flicked his tufted ears back and bowed his head briefly.

"I helped them back, to find you, but they're very mean," he said softly. "I'm glad you found your mom, but I'm going to leave now. I don't like being near you because you're mean."

He pushed up, looking slowly around, a sad sort of melancholy holding him. His feelings were a little hurt, but more than that it was just tragic that the creature couldn't understand others, or empathy, or anything.

Envy, he felt, would end up alone and disliked, unless it learned to change; and for that, he felt bad for them.

But he'd done his best to explain; and he'd brought them to their mother, and given them light. There wasn't much more that he could do.

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}

"You're welcome. Stay safe," he said gently. Then Envy was insulting him, again, her shrill voice grating.

Oliver stared for a moment, an unfamiliar feeling welling up inside him. He considered it, for a moment, turned it over in his mind.

Anger.

Hate.

He was tempted, for a moment, to just lunge forward, bite her, kill her, eat her--some brief primal urge, here then gone. Instead, he waited a long moment, and then spoke calmly.

"You said you aren't mean, but you're calling me names after I went out of my way to help you. I might be stupid, but you're still mean." He wanted to add, "I hope someone kills you." He really did. But that would be mean, and he himself, tried not to be mean. Maybe, "no one likes you, and no one ever will." Maybe "you're tiny, and weak, and you can't even eat or find your way home on your own."

Oliver stared for awhile longer, and instead of saying any of these things, he simply turned and left.

{Table code credit to Madison, altered a bit!}