D.ALL Chapter 16

The beast lunged again, aiming for her leg—but Foxx jumped in front and parried its fangs with his tail—stopping the beast, and giving them a chance to grab the baskets and break for the exit.

Yet, that beast was not the only one—as they rounded the corner to the desolate living room they were met with a second beast of the same kind—another Wharfwolf, but this one dwarfed the other.

Its back scraped against the ceiling as it stood half-couched—its eyes of ocean blue staring into Foxx’s as the water held by its sea-shadow coat dripped onto the carpet. An eroded collar was wrapped around its neck, hanging off the collar was a fish-shaped tag engraved with the word “Bee.”

The Big Wharfwolf roared, like twenty-two fog bells rung ninety-nine times—stunning Foxx as he hesitated to act and struggled through the sound.

With strength granted by adrenaline, Lav grabbed a three-foot vase and threw it at the Big Wharfwolf’s nose, ceasing its roar, then grabbed Foxx and the baskets he dropped and dashed to the staircase. However, the way up was blocked by wreckage fused together with Wharfwolf’s spit.

Before they could be cornered, they ran to the kitchen, Lav taking a rusted filet knife out of a drawer right before they both ducked into the pantry. She didn’t plan on using it, but clearly, they were running out of options—fighting head-on may become the only one left.

Inside the pantry was nearly pitch black, faint rays of light bleeding in from the small gaps between the door hinges.

“Plan?” Lav whispered.

Foxx pondered for a moment, lightly swiping his tail on the floor, “We could apologize.”

“Huh?” Lav’s serious expression broke to look at Foxx, baffled, “What do you mean apologize? It’s a freaking—”

Scrrrreeeech.

The Big Warfwolf dragged its claws against the kitchen tile, and when its paw landed—crack, the tiles broke under its weight.

Both stayed still as the Big Warfwolf’s snarls echoed, its head turning—pressing its snout against the pantry’s door, its breath of salt and meat leaking through the gaps.

…

Its interest waned, pawing at the door one last time before turning its back, seemly heading for the garage—

Until Lav’s phone rang.

She shut it off as quickly as she could, but the Big Wharfwolf already heard it—smashing the door open with just one paw, barking as it tried to enter—although it was much too big.

Unable to get inside, it left with a frustrated and tired bark—seeking the smaller one’s help.

Since staying where they were would just leave them cornered, the only option was to run—dashing out right when the Big Wharfwolf was far enough away.

With a split second to think and no place else to run, they went to the breach in the house—their backs to its edge and the waters below.

Lav pointed her rusted knife forward like a swashbuckler, staring both Wharfwolves down, “Stay behind me, Foxx–”

With a single swipe, the small Wharfwolf broke the rusted blade in half, then leaped back—now behind the big one.

Lav threw what was left of the knife at the Big Wharfwolf, who then effortlessly knocked it aside with its snarling snout.

Now truly out of options, Lav looked to Foxx, still keeping the Wharfwolves in vision. She noticed his eyes were darting to each protrusion in the cliffside parallel to them.

“Follow,” Foxx’s eyes suddenly stopped, and he jumped down onto a protrusion under the edge.

Without hesitation, Lav jumped down, but as she fell, the small Wharfwolf pounced at her—scratching the back of her jacket, landing at the edge where she stood before. It pounced again, but before it could get off the ground, the Big Wharfwolf caught it by the scruff of its neck, and gently placed it back inside the house—then going after Foxx and Lav.

It jumped and dug its claws deep into the cliffside, like the stone was as soft as clay—leaping across, quickly catching up to Lav.

Streams of electricity emitted out of Foxx as he took a flat stone wedged in the cliffside and threw it so that it landed on the surface behind Lav—creating a dust cloud which obscured the Big Wharfwolf’s vision.

Lav used this as an opportunity to catch up, taking a massive leap forward—only for the Wharfwolf to grab the stone Foxx threw and chuck it directly at where she was about to land.

Before she could plummet to the rapids below, Foxx took out three stones from the cliff side and placed them where the surface Lav was aiming for once stood. It was an unstable platform, but he held it long enough for Lav to recover and jump off it—joining him at his side.

The cliff’s edge was now only two feet above them, so Lav threw the baskets up and onto it then swiftly climbed up. Foxx followed shortly, jumping up high—overshooting the edge and then landing on the ground softly.

Although they had made it to solid ground, it wasn’t over just yet—the Wharfwolf latched onto the edge as the two ran to Frost—who was already ready to act, having heard the commotion a few seconds before; their knife in hand and eyes locked with the Big Wharfwolf’s.

Frost stalked forward as the Big Wharfwolf climbed onto solid ground—but it didn’t advance, standing its ground and making itself look big as it growled.

Lav ran behind Frost, but Foxx stood only a few feet away from the Big Wharfwolf with his tail relaxed and his ears pointed high.

Frost quickened their advance, “Foxx—”

“Sorry, madam,” Foxx bowed at the Big Wharfwolf, “We will not intrude again.”

Lav looked at Foxx, confused.

Foxx took a flower out of a basket and cordially presented it to the Big Wharfwolf, “If necessary, we can return the Dyehearts.”

Although Foxx spoke in the same way as he usually did—flat and toneless, there was something about it that sounded… off to Frost and Lav, like they could only hear or understand a part of it.

With one last huff, the Big Wharfwolf stopped growling and barking—still in an aggressive territorial stance, but its breath slowed and its eyes narrowed.

It responded to Foxx by barking quietly and kicking dust at the three, then it leaped back down the cliff—scampering off back home.

With the threat gone, Frost immediately checked Foxx and Lav for wounds, “Are either of you injured?”

Lav tsked, “Naw, but not thanks you. Where were you when we nearly got sliced—”

Ring-ring.

Lav groaned as she picked up the call, “What?”

“Is everything going well? You haven’t called me since you left, and it’s been hours!” Sal’s voice crackled through the phone's speakers.

“Lost signal,” Lav said.

“Ah.”

“Got the flowers.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Eh.”

“…'Eh?’”

“Eh—it was a chore.”

There was a moment of silence Sal spoke again, “Melli will be over soon, at the dock, like when you arrived.”

“Cool, see ya.”

“Okay, see you—”

Lav hung up and walked in the direction of the dock, “Come on, let’s go—we all have better places to be.”

Foxx and Lav talked a lot on the walk back, or rather, mostly Lav telling more tales of Hi-bis.

Frost stayed a few feet behind, keeping watch in case anything else decided to make itself known—thankfully, nothing did. Although, even without threats present, there was a strange ominous air around them that then quickly vanished when they reached the docks.

Melli was already there, looking out to the dusk horizon, laid back in the helmsman’s chair and listening to an alt-rock radio station.

He didn’t notice the three walking up until Lav shouted, “We’re here!” in a slightly annoyed voice—startling him.

“Oof, sorry,” Melli turned down the music, “How did it go?”

Lav shrugged and leaped into the boat—Melli quickly noticed the gash in the back of her jacket.

“What happened?” Melli asked, getting up from his seat to get a better look.

“None of your biz,” Lav turned to face him then sat down at the back of the boat.

Melli sat back down and sighed, then let out a quiet “Oooooo boy,” before turning to Foxx and Frost, “Can you one of you tell me?”

Foxx laid down on a seat at the side while Frost explained what happened from their perspective, apologizing for letting Foxx and Lav get into danger in the first place.

“I should have climbed down myself,” Frost said.

“No, that would’ve been stupid, you did the most you could with what you knew,” Melli reassured them. “Gotta say though, that’s a miracle,” he started the boat.

“Hmm?”

“Can’t believe after all these years, Old Liliipass still got some life in her—not just flowers, but a fully grown Wharfwolf no less! You said it had a collar?”

“Yep,” Frost sat down.

“Did it say ‘Bee’ on the tag?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Always wondered where she went,” Melli chuckled. “Bee was Fera’s fishing buddy back in the day, good to know she’s still kicking!”

Foxx overheard what Melli said and made a connection, popping up from his resting spot and giving the framed photo he found in the Warfwolf’s nest to Melli.

“Well I’ll be…” Melli put his hand on his head as he looked down at the photo. “We’ve been looking for this ever since the dust came, where’d you find it?”

“Ms. Bee’s nest,” Foxx answered.

“Thank you for finding this,” Melli gave Foxx a smile.

Foxx bowed.

Look at the photo for a little longer, then let out a laugh, “I looked like such a dork, I’m surprised you could tell it was me!” His thumb drifted over the third figure in the photo, “But can you tell who the one with that goofy half-toothed grin is?”

Foxx nodded his head, “Fera.”

“Right on, boy—my sibling in crime,” he spoke in a tone of nostalgic remembrance, his voice a little shaky.

Only Frost noticed, but at the mention of Fera, Lav leaned onto the boat’s rim, sighing lightly and resting her head in her hands.

Melli placed the framed photo on the dashboard next to him, “Ohohoh, the stories I could tell,” he laughed again. “One time, I was out of paint—and back then, none of the shops sold supplies for cheap.”

Melli kept a hand on the wheel and eyes on the ocean, but moved his free hand as he talked, “Told Fera about it, and guess what they did?”

Foxx tilted his head.

“They wrangled a Shoresnail—something the size of a ferry, mind you—and stole its shell, then learned how to make paint out of it! All in one afternoon.”

“A formidable warrior,” Frost said.

“A formidable fisher!” Melli added. “You should’ve been here back in the day, I bet you and Fera would have been good fishing buddies.”

“You honor me.”

“You’d have to get used to the heat, though!” Melli chuckled.

“Any more stories?” Foxx asked.

“Plenty, we got into a lot of trouble—but how about I tell you the best one next?” Melli replied.

“Ok.”

Melli pointed to the cliffside, where the house with the Dyehearts was, “You see that part of the island that’s missing?”

Foxx nodded his head.

“That’s Fera’s doing!”

Foxx tilted his head to the other side.

“They hauled it with their ferry, how else? Taking it all the way down…” He raised his arm then slowly moved his finger to point at New Lilipass, “…Yonder.”

“New Lilipass was part of Old Lilipass?” Foxx asked.

“Yep!” Melli said proudly. “Right before the Dust Devil hit, they hooked their anchor deep in the land and hauled it—like it was as simple as moving any ol’ cargo.” Melli placed his hand on his chin, “To this day, no one knows how they did it; magic, strength, pure willpower—what matters is that we’d not be here if it wasn’t for their miracle.”

Lav said something under her breath. Only Melli heard it, his fluffy ears drooping down.

“May I meet them?” Foxx asked.

It took a bit for Melli to answer, “…Sadly, you can’t, none of us can.” Melli tried to keep a grin but couldn’t, his voice becoming shakier, “They died the moment New Lilipass was far enough from the Dust Devil’s path.” Melli took a deep breath, “It was the price they paid, I suppose.”

“My condolences,” Frost said.

Foxx’s ears laid flat, “Sorry.”

“No need to be,” Melli wiped his brow and his smile slowly returned, “It’s been decades since then, those wounds have long healed. Nowadays, I’m just thankful that we got a bittersweet but happy ending to our encounter with the Dust Devil. Few islands can say the same.”

“‘Happy ending,’ yeah, sure,” Lav said loud enough for everyone to hear.

“It is a happy ending; you and Sal are proof of that.”

Lav rolled her eyes and kicked back on her seat, covering her head with her jacket as Foxx and Frost sat back down and Melli told more tales of Fera: Lilipass’ best fisher, ferryman, and well-missed sibling and friend.