Sharama, Continued

I changed the settings, so now you can view this when I Have written more but not posted it on the Zone.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Eoo1QM1Amyf3CSQGN5DZkSWkqJcLWA099akv7sIrGPc/edit?hl=en_US&pli=1

Sharp claws dug into my snout and shook my head around like a rag. I snapped my eyes open and flung the thing that was harassing my head into a tree before remembering that it was Mug, and that Mug had a rather physical way of dealing with anything.

I quickly padded over to the tree and apologized to the glowing purple beetle. He still wasn’t happy.

“Don’t just  stand there apologizing, get me on your back and get moving! Time is wasting!!”
Mug poked me in the nose with a stick. I snorted at him and let him on, contrary to my desires to be rid of the pest immediately. We started the strenuous hike up the steep mountain quickly and at a brisk pace (due to Mug’s urgent stick-prodding) and we were making good time- until I smelled the trolls.
So I stopped.

Mug whacked me with his puny little cane. I growled softly and told him to hold still, there were trolls up ahead.

“Chillax, lady. We’re fine. As long as you have ME with you they’ll let you in too. You’re fine!”
“Mug, they’re trolls. One killed another of my pack last season. I am not gonna go approach one of them willingly.”

Mug kicked me.

I planted my fluffy little butt down on the ground stubbornly. Mug tumbled off of my back and into the dust.

“Listen, Sharama, I get that you know trolls are dangerous, but these ones are different. They’re guard trolls. It’s their job to, uh, kill tresspassers,” Mug said. It wasn’t really comforting me much. I flattened my ears and thumped my tail on the ground in defiance.

Suddenly, a tree bent back. I dashed behind Mug and cowered.

Mug slapped me. “Relax, they just heard me talking. They know me. Calm down.”

A huge ugly nose followed by a hairy face poked through the crack in the trees. The giant trolls looked down at the beetle and pointed at me. I made myself even smaller and held perfectly still.

Mug made some hand signals to the trolls. They nodded and let go of the tree- the poor thing nearly broke from whiplash- and were gone.

“They don’t talk,” Mug explained to me. “They only use hand gestures. The funny thing is, they CAN yell. They took a vow of silence to work for the Mountain King. They can’t communicate by talking, so they made up a code of hand signals. It’s only fair that I talk back to them with it, right?”
I shrugged. 

Mug got back up on my back and I cautiously crept up the slope. It got steeper and steeper, and I was suddenly glad for my extra thumbs right about then. The wind got harder and harsher and soon I was being pressed back from  progress.

Mug started screaming SOMETHING, but I couldn’t understand him. I had my ears pressed against my head as hard as I could to block out the screaming wind and continued up the cliff as fast as possible. Finally, the ugly beetle lifted up my ear and yelled “TURN BACK, WE MISSED THE CAVE.”

I failed to realize that there was even a cave to miss. I turned around precariously- the cliff face was still steep as heck- and slowly made my way back down.

After a ways, Mug screamed to stop again. I looked at the small hole in the cliff face he had jumped off of my head and entered.

Poking my head in, I yelled after the purple beetle, “GET BACK HERE! I CAN’T FIT IN THERE!”

Mug turned around. “Just chill out there for now, okay? I promise I’ll be back for you. I have to let the Mountain King know that I’m here before you come in- and there’s an easier way. He has to open it, though. We good?”
“N-” I started to say, but Mug turned around and hastily walked down the dark passage. I grew angry and stuck my nose in the hole and barked at him. The bug didn’t notice me one bit and the sound reverberated back at me. My head was thrown back and I just barely saved myself from a tragic fall of the edge of a cliff.

I laid down sadly and waited for Mug to return, too scared of returning and running into the trolls.

About a day had passed since I had seen Mug. I hoped he was OK- I was not looking forward to the trolls finding me and not being able to understand me and throwing me off the side of the mountain.
I realized that  I had no food.

My stomach growled at me rather angrily. I wandered up the mountain since the wind had died down. There wasn’t much up there, just strange scents of things that weren’t me. I had never smelled anything like it before, but I didn’t want to risk the trolls.
I made up my mind then that if Mug wasn’t back by sunset tonight, I would go find food. Then I laid down and stared at the hole some more.

The sun started beating down on me much harder than before, and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be terribly well when Mug returned- if he did. I got off of the ground and  went to snuffle around in the underbrush for some stray critters.

I scared a flock of birds when I poked my head into a bush, and they flew away screaming. I went into panic mode, and plunged into the bush lest the trolls come.  I stayed there with my ears pricked for hours; the only reason I got out was because of the singing. Yep, singing. It wasn't a beetle, but it wasn’t a wolf, either. It was the same smell I had caught earlier on the cliff path.

“They call me Short and that's just fine, no matter what they say, I'll sing my happy song...”

I poked my head even farther out of the bush, not believing what I saw.

A dog- yes, a dog, not a wolf, like me- was prancing down the cliff face. He was about the same height as me, but he was longer than he was tall. His ears stood, pricked up on the top of his head, and he had a grin stuck to his face. A bag with two pockets on his sides was tied around his middle. The dog kept singing his “happy song” and I watched him. He was about to the hole. He sniffed around it, then looked relieved for some reason. Still singing, he snuffled around on the ground and finally came to the bush I was in and put his head up. I pulled my head in, but his head poked in after me.

“What do you want?” I growled. I was hungry, cold, and just plain angry that Mug had left me alone with the trolls.

“Oh, here you are,” he said. It was a cheerful voice. “I’m here to get you off of this mountain!”

“Why? Just to antagonize the Mountain King?” I didn’t like this. Mug HAD been gone a while, but he said that he would need me. And I didn’t want to make the Kingy mad.
“Yeah, pretty much. The only reason he wants you is to eat you- he thinks that by doing that he’ll keep his reign over the mountain.”

“EAT ME? Why does he want to eat me?” I squeaked. I didn’t want to get eaten.
“Like I just said. To keep his reign over the mountain. But we also think he’s up to something a bit more... sinister than keeping his reign. We’re trying to figure that out, but as far as I’m concerned, let’s get out of here.”

I started to jump out of the bush, but stopped quickly. “I don’t even know your name, though.”

“I’m Pippin, if it makes you feel any better. He stopped and looked at the bag draped over his midsection. “Treble! Readings?”

A head poked out of the bags. It was the smallest canine I had ever seen, and one of the fluffiest. It was even smaller than me. It smelled at the air, and its blue eyes looked around at everything, taking everything in.

“Sir, I am sensing an unusual presence of anxiety and quite a strong load of anger. Oh, and a bit of fear, too. We should probably run right now. The trolls are on the move.”

My ears flopped down to the bottom of my head. A Reader? And a tiny little Pom, too? Hrrrgh, I must have been dreaming, I thought.

Readers were dogs that were characterized by their bright blue eyes and ability to sense feelings and danger around them. They weren’t very common since the Mountain King wasn’t a big fan of them. Did these two- or more- dogs have something against the King? Nonetheless, not wanting to get eaten, I followed the short-legged dog.

He could move surprisingly fast with stubby little legs like that. Every once in a while there would be a shrill yell from the bag, such as “VEER LEFT!!” or “ANGRY TROLL, MAKE HASTE!!”

With that Pom’s advice, we never ran into any trouble. And all the while, Pippin was humming a little song. I almost liked being around the two of them, even though we weren’t exactly having a conversation.

After several hours, some over-bent trees told us that we were almost out of troll territory. We rolled through the small tunnel created by the underbrush and sat down. I was exhausted. I hadn’t eaten anything in two days and I just ran- what, two miles? That’s a mile for every day I had fasted.

I fell down on my belly and just panted for a while. I hadn’t had much water, either. That was more of a problem...

A pair of black, bald paws dropped in front of my face. I was too tired to lift my head and see what it was, and slipped into a deep sleep. I didn’t feel anything, just darkness. I just heard a few faint voices before I passed out.

“Pippin! I told you not to run the whole way!” Couldn’t put a name on this voice.
“Sorry, there were a ton of trolls... Treble! She’s not dying, is she?” Pippin. Making excuses.

“No, not yet. But I can feel it coming if we don’t get her water soon.” Treble. Acting smart.

“Well, let’s not waste any time.” The mystery voice again. “I’ll carry her if you guys can get her on my back.”
I felt myself being lifted but couldn’t resist. I wanted to scream that I was fine but that would be a lie; and what the reader puffball said kind of concerned me. I let myself sleep.

Derpy approves.