Tarnissaloo
Bruce simply rocked his friend’s head back and forth. He saw the luminous cloud coming but he didn’t care anymore. If it was some leftover of Macor’s magic, of if Macor himself had reawakened so be it. Neeka was gone and right now all Bruce could do is grieve.

As tears were streaming down his face Bruce remembered Neeka’s first encounter with a skunk. Almost a year old he had been scampering in the yard behind Bruce’s rustic home when, out of the hedgerow waddled this large mother skunk, and three little one following her single file. Neeka, absolutely curious about everything, kick-ran coltlike over to investigate. The mother skunk turned and fired, making the large colt fully aware that she did not appreciate his curiosity or his attentions.

Bruce heard the snortings of the young colt and came outside to find him on the porch, hanging his head low and shaking it from side to side. He was trying to paw at his face and rub it on the porch railings. Then the scent hit Bruce like a hammer and he started to laugh! “So, you met some of the local wildlife did you Neeka? They were not very friendly from the smell of you. What do you think of them?”

Bruce asked that question simply to calm the young stallion and certainly did not expect an answer when in his mind came the definite thought, “Stink!”

Bruce was stunned. Never had anything like this happened with a non-sentient. Some furs had definite telepathic abilities and Bruce was quite used to conversing with those wordlessly but he never expected anything like this from the young, and currently very foul smelling colt.

“Neeka, was that you?” Bruce asked tentatively. “Are you OK?”

“Stink! Burn!” Came the definite thought and Bruce knew it was Neeka this time. He noticed the colt’s eyes were watering and his nose was running and he could just imagine that the colt’s eyes and nose were also caught in the spray. He went inside and got a towel, soaked it in warm water and brought it out to the still distressed youngster. Neeka stood trusting as Bruce wiped him down, making several trips to rinse out the large towel.

When Bruce had removed most of the worst of the smell he retrieved a small pouch from his kitchen containing a number of leaves, He soaked them in a large basin and then soaked the towel in the water. Bruce then took the towel out and once more rubbed down the colt and most of the smell vanished.

“It’s the best I can do little guy.” Bruce said. “What’s left will have to go away on it’s own. Probably take weeks. You got a really good dose.”

“Better.” Came the thought, strong and clear. “Better.” Neeka nuzzled Bruce’s side, almost knocking him over and simply turned and walked off the porch. The last Bruce saw of the colt that day was him trotting off to investigate a butterfly passing through the yard. Bruce laughed and thought to himself much better that than another skunk.

That was the first time Bruce realized that Neeka was much more than just a horse and as Neeka matured the mental contact got stronger and easier. Tears still streamed down Bruce’s face as he remembered and looked down at his friend who looked nothing like that youngster of years ago. Much more mature, much more solid, but still as inquisitive and Neeka became very much a friend. While they never had real conversations they communicated enough to grow to love and respect each other.

“We’re sorry for your loss Bruce.” Came a small but very clear voice. Bruce looked up through his tears and saw a small winged bear, no more than an inch tall, hovering in front of him and glowing softly.

“He came to help you and we heard his cry. All of us felt it, then your call. We came to help.”

Bruce looked around looking very carefully. What had seemed like a glowing cloud from a distance, he now realized was made up of millions and millions of tiny winged furs. Bears, Lions, Horses, Snakes, Eagles, Wolfs, Otters, Bats, and many many more. All winged and all glowing softly. Each was no more than an inch tall and every one had a pair of shimmering opalescent wings. They hovered and darted at will, moving individually yet together in a way that was hard to describe.

“My name is Tarnissaloo. We’ve come to help you.”

Bruce sighed and looked down at his friend. He was surprised at the number of tiny furs and, had this been any other time, he would have spent hours talking with them and learning since he had never seen anything like them before.

Not wanting to seem ungrateful Bruce said simply, “You’re a bit late. Thank you but please leave me alone with my friend. I will bury him and then be gone from this place.”

Tarnissaloo nodded and spoke again, “You don’t understand Bruce. We’re not here to help you fight, we’re here to help your friend, and you.”

Bruce looked up straight at the small hovering Bear. He was completely Bear, pot bellied, covered with very soft brown fur and a smile that was mischevious yet warm. Compared to Bruce Tarnisaloo seemed just a speck. Bruce looked into the small Bear’s eyes and asked slowly, “I’m not sure what you mean. How can you help? My friend is dead.”

“Yes he is Bruce. And no he’s not.” The small bear replied. The Dark one has not come to claim him yet, but he is coming. You asked of the Forest and it gave freely. Only one other has ever done that in the centuries we have looked over the forest. Only one other has shown the heart you have shown today, to give and expect nothing in return. If the forest believes in you Bruce, so do we. And we can help. But we must hurry.”

Bruce still wasn’t sure what the Bear was talking about but he didn’t care. He thought he was hearing something that was impossible and, having seen many impossible things in his life, Bruce grabbed at the chance. “What do you want me to do?” he asked simply.

Remove the sapling from your friend’s chest. It’s too big for us to move. Then step back.”

Bruce gently placed his friends head on the ground and kneeled in front of him. He grasped the sapling, still protruding from Neeka’s chest. He pulled once and the sapling moved only a little. Bruce pulled with all of his strength and the sapling slid out fully. The end was shattered and covered with his friends blood and the ugly hole in Neeka’s chest seeped blood slowly.

Bruce threw the sapling away like it was some disgusting piece of filth and backed away from his friend’s lifeless body. He sat on the ground and observed the small Furs as they began their work.

Tarnisaloo started. He darted away from Bruce at a speed that seemed almost impossible for his small size and soared high into the air until he was just a speck of light. He then dove down and streaked past Neek’s chest. As he passed the wound the tiny Bear held out his hand and Bruce saw a very tiny, very thin line of white light cross the wound where Tarnissaloo touched. The rest of the tiny furs followed his lead and the cloud of small furries moved with a ferocity of purpose.

There had to be millions, maybe billions, and they moved in a dance each one streaking across Neeka’s wound and leaving a small trace of light. After Tarnisaloo’s flight he came back to Bruce and hovered next to him and said,

“Watch. With each pass we leave just a tiny bit of ourselves. You were willing to sacrifice and now so are we. The healing light will close the wound. Then the work will begin.” It didn’t take many passes and the ugly wound in Neek’a chest glowed pure white. Bruce tried to look more closely but the light glowed so bright, as more tiny furs made the single file flight, that it hurt to look directly at it.

Suddenly the flight changed. Now it looked as though the tiny furs were in a chaotic frenzy. As Bruce and Tarnissaloo watched they swarmed over Neeka. Bruce watched carefully and while the tiny glowing furs were darting high into the air and streaking downward they did it from hundreds of directions at once. It was an aerial ballet! As the tiny furs passed over Neeka they held out a paw, or a tail, if they didn’t have paws, and made a short touch on the great horse. They left a small trace of light. Bruce watched carefully as two passed over Neeka and left their trace and were heading for each other from opposite directions. Just as they were about to collide they slipped effortlessly by one another and continued their flight.

As the minutes passed and millions and millions of the tiny furs streaked over Neeka the horse started to glow. Just as his wound had become, Bruce had difficultly looking at his friend as the glow brightened.

Bruce wasn’t sure how long this went on but he noticed that the glow surrounding Neeka was fading. As the glow faded Bruce saw Neeka's eyelids flicker. He was there in an instant rubbing the horse’s muzzle and speaking softly. “Wake up Neeka. Please, wake up.” Neeka’s eyes opened and Bruce caught the strong thought of, “What happened? Last thing I knew I was hit by something and now I’m here on the ground.”

Bruce gasped and tears of happiness streamed down his face. He hugged his friend hard and thought, “You were lost to me, now you’re back!”

“Lost?” Neeka thought, “I wasn’t lost. Knocked out maybe, but not lost!”

Bruce laughed and then stopped laughing very suddenly. “Wait! I’m having a conversation with you! How can this be?” Bruce looked over at Tarnissaloo who was still hovering and now smiling broadly. He seemed to be aware of the entire wordless conversation that had taken place and explained to Bruce as Neeka began returning to his feet.

“We gave a small piece of ourselves Bruce,” Tarnissaloo began explaining, “Every one of us.” As though to emphasize his point Tarnissaloo looked around at the tiny furs who’s glow pulsated, almost in response to his words. He continued, “Every gift comes with some strings and this one is no exception. We gave of ourselves and your friend benefited. We of the Faerie Fur helped your friend by giving a piece of ourselves. However in doing that your friend is more than he was. Much more. While he is still the friend you knew he is also now a Faerie Fur.” Tarnissaloo laughed happily as he continued, “And I have to say the largest damned Faerie Fur I have ever seen!”

The light from the other Furs rippled as though it was visual laughter. He continued, “There has only been one other and you will meet him on your way back. He also heard your call and is on his way.”

Bruce took all of this in and the more he heard the more he was confused. “I don’t really understand.” Bruce told Tarnissaloo, “Faerie, Furs? Another?”

Tarnissaloo grinned, “Then sit Bruce and I will tell you all about the Faerie, and in so doing, your friend Neeka.”

But that is a story for tomorrow.