Boots 4 (ver 3) (Patreon)

Now, what can Ykahi do with a torn gluppet?

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Ykahi peeked into one of the gluppet’s holes, but the squeaky voice quavering inside didn’t sound anything like Botabriask’s. “What? What?” he whispered. “What just happened?”

“I turned you into a geroo,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“You said to hide you!” the little ringel laughed.

A pause. “...How?”

“Magic, of course!” Ykahi cackled.

“Magic…? This … is amazing! Can you turn yourself into a krakun too?” asked Bota. He struggled inside the plastic bag for a moment until his eyes peered out one of the seams he’d split earlier. Ykahi nodded, so he asked, “Well, then do it! Why are you always complaining that you don’t get to do what we do, when you can just turn into a krakun?”

The ringel shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that,” she explained. “The transformation won’t last … not without sacrifice.”

There was a second puff of energy, and the figure standing on the edge of the table was no longer a geroo. Botabriask had become a bright blue krakun once more. The table toppled over, Ykahi leapt onto his lap, and rode him all the way down to the floor. Boots landed on his back with an oof! and he stared up at the ceiling a long while before moving again.

“You feel okay?” she asked him.

The krakun nodded but said nothing. He turned his head. In the corner of the room, several of the geroo had ventured from their box, though they huddled in a small group, not daring to stray far from the hole leading back inside. Botabriask stared at them, then raising a claw, he waved.

The geroo shared a curious look before they too waved back.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” said Boots, sitting up slightly.

Holding a shredded gluppet in her paws, Ykahi bounded up onto his chest. “You seem different,” she said, “less … angry.”

Boots closed his eyes and drew several long slow breaths before he opened them again. “Yeah,” he said, “I feel … calm.”

She crept a little closer, up to the top of his chest. “And … you’re okay with that?”

The bright blue krakun laid his head back on the floor for several moments before lifting it up again. He studied her with his keen golden eyes. “Yeah,” he finally said.

The ringel’s ears grinned wide, and she hurriedly rolled the scraps up before climbing higher upon him. She kissed his cheek. “Good,” she said. “Perhaps you should get some rest.”

Back in her apartment, Ykahi made a bee-line for the refrigerator. Korosovak looked up from the couch. “Ah, Ykahi,” he said, “what are you up to tonight?”

“I’m working on a magic potion,” she said, pausing for a moment at the base of the refrigerator. Then, she scrambled up the access ladder that led all the way to the top.

Her owner was about to say something else, but she vanished into a ringel-sized access door he’d installed on the side of the gigantic box. She emerged a minute later. Gripping the edge of the hatchway with her toes and making exaggerated heaving noises as she tried to pull a stick of butter free.

“Your magic potion…” Korosovak asked, looking over the counter, “needs a whole stick of butter?”

“Yes!” the skull-faced ringel grunted as she pulled. “It’s going to turn me into a krakun, and then I’ll rent 2B.”

“Oh, will you?” said the krakun, finally getting up off the couch.

“Yes!” she said, straining. She crumpled, chest heaving and hanging limp by her fingertips. “And then I’ll go out and meet people, and I’ll finally be able to make some friends!”

“Oh,” said Korosovak, drawing the sound way out. “So, you don’t have any friends currently?”

Her ears fell into a frown. “No.”

The red krakun pulled the stick free and she scrambled up onto his claw. “Really? None at all?” he asked.

Ykahi grabbed the stick and tried to pull it out of his grip, but he held it tighter than the access hatch had. “And a stick of butter is gonna fix all that?”

“Yes!” she hissed insistently. She heaved again, pulling as hard as she could. “Gimme!”

“No.”

The ringel hung from her fingertips once more, her legs and tail hanging limp. She looked up at her owner with the sweetest face she could manage. “Please?” she whined.

“No,” said Korosovak again. “You’re not using all of my butter to make one of your magic potions, or I won’t have anything to put on my toast. How about half a stick?”

She climbed quickly up and stood atop the wrapper. “Half a stick isn’t enough! I need the whole thing to make sure the magic works.”

“Well, it’s half a stick or none of it,” he said with a frown. “Which would you rather have?”

She sat and stewed a long while, head hanging from her shoulders, and her black ears out in a pout. Eventually, she looked back up, all smiles once more. “Half a stick, please!”

“Very well,” Korosovak laughed. He set the stick down on the countertop and grabbed a knife.

Ykahi bounded onto his arm, then watched intently as he prepared to slice the foil brick in two. “Little more,” she whispered, gesturing urgently with her paws to one side. “Little more. Little more.”

He sliced the butter and deposited one half in the little black cauldron she’d set up on top of the refrigerator. She cackled some more as she scrambled up his arm and started dragging a fireplace lighter over to the tea light that the cauldron was suspended over.

He patted her head, and she hissed at him, making him grin. “I’m going to bed.” He pointed at her. “Don’t make a mess.”

“I won’t,” she whined, chastised.

Then, he headed back to the bedroom, pausing for a moment in the doorway to smile at his pet once more. “And don’t go summoning any dark spirits!” he laughed.

The ringel scowled at the darkened doorway to the bedroom and then climbed back down the access ladder to the rolled-up gluppet she’d tucked between the refrigerator and the cabinet.

“I make no promises,” she whispered with a grin.

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QsllGkRFWVzcDHzRGyi9zIKOLayibyqQfnqIiHBSMrM/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?