Where the Predators Prowl. [88, 89, 90]

88 A Boy and His Husky

“COMING ATTRACTIONS!” An unnervingly deep voice suddenly boomed in my ears. 

"What the fuck?" I jumped.

"Think a paperclip maximizer is bad? THIS SUMMER... One man... One AI-powered toaster... INFINITE BREAD! Coming soon: 'TOAST APOCALYPSE 7: THE BUTTERING.' Rated R for excessive jam violence."

I spun left and right, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. An image of Nessy in a housewife apron holding a toaster ejecting bread endlessly manifested in the air like a mirage, then gradually faded away as she drowned in the bread-ocean with a scream.

The theatrical-announcer voice resumed. "She thought she was buying shoes... BUT THE SHOES WERE BUYING HER… to wear until she was scraped from existence. 'RETAIL THERAPY' - Where every sale is FINAL."

Kristi wearing nothing but leather boots appeared in mid air as reality wobbled. The raptor girl clawed at the boots as they began walking her out of her apartment.

"From the creators of 'Your Death' comes 'YOUR BIRTH' - Watch yourself being unborn in reverse! Critics are calling it 'Deeply disturbing' and 'I need therapy now!'"

“Hey,” I frowned, blinking the freaky mirage away before it even began. “What’s happening? Aren’t we outside the theater?”

“The tickets did warn of instantaneous viewerage,” Nessy commented. “I think that they’re calibrating us.”

“Calibrating us?!”

“For complete cinematic immersion. A quantum leap, maybe?”

"THE FEATURE PRESENTATION WILL NOW CONSUME—I MEAN, COMMENCE!" 

Reality started melting around the edges like film stock left too close to a projector bulb. The dirty, cracked floor beneath us became translucent, ripping away atom by atom.

Nessy grabbed and pulled me down, squishing into me beneath a newly formed, massive spiderweb in the corner of the hallway.

“Murdoch! Protek’ us while we enjoy our film experience!” She barked. “Cocoon our bodies up so that the FPHses can’t find us!”

“Can do,” the spiders above hissed.

"PLEASE SILENCE YOUR EXISTENTIAL DREAD DURING THE PERFORMANCE," the deep film-announcer’s voice resonated. “INITIATING TOTAL IMMERSION!”

A popcorn fly buzzed in the web, dripping butter onto me. A candy ant made from crystallized, red sugar wiggled dark claws beside it. The spiders approached both with tiny forks. 

I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to trust a colony of spiders to keep us safe.

Reality became more transparent in every direction, permitting me to see across the entirety of the Nameless Mall. A million shadowy things, a network of wiggling cables and eyes suddenly noticed me, turning my way and wishing to devour my 1st-person-ness.

Then they too were gone.

. . .

THUNK THUNK THUNK

I jolted awake to the sound of rocks hitting metal. Sunlight streamed through venetian blinds, and I was lying on a narrow, twin bed.

It took my tired self a minute to recognize the metal ceiling of my grandfather’s RV.

The silver walls were covered in his collection of funny license plates featuring non-existent states like: "State of Confusion," "East Virginia," "North Alaska." The familiar smell of motor oil and Pine-Sol filled my nostrils.

THUNK THUNK

The annoying noise continued.

"OI!" My grandfather's gruff voice bellowed as he opened a window and stuck his head out. "CEASE THAT RACKET, DOG! Some of us are trying to enjoy a good book in the morning.”

"Haiiiii Mr. Fosterrrrr!” A girly voice barked. “I’m here for…”

“Alec, I know,” my grandfather said. “I know. You’re always here for Alec. Don’t you have a life, girl?”

"What's a life? Is it edible?" Nessy laughed. "Do I nom it with ketchup? What would you recommend as a life-spice, Mr. Foster?"

“Just get in and take him away already,” I heard my grandfather sigh deeply, followed by the creak of the RV door opening.

Nessy practically exploded through the doorway, a black and white blur of fur and enthusiasm, the pink-blue sundress sitting atop her slightly lopsided. She immediately began circling the small RV interior, nose twitching frantically at all the things. "Ooh! Ooh! Is that WD-40? And old socks? And—my Slayer! A NEW AIR FRESHENER?”

"It's Pine-Sol, you hyperactive fleabag," grandad grumbled, pulling his thick reading glasses down to glare at her over the frames. "Same as always."

"Smells different today!" Nessy declared, tail wagging so hard her entire back end swayed. "Everything smells more... Thursday-ish!"

"It's Saturday," grandfather said flatly.

"Even BETTER!" She bounced on her digitigrade paws, then suddenly froze, spotting the book in his hands. Her head tilted almost ninety degrees. "Whatcha reading?"

"A book," he pulled the book closer to his chest as if he was concerned that the hyperactive husky girl would steal it and prance off with it. "It's theoretical… physics."

"Theoretical-what-now?" Nessy's eyes lit up with hope. “Does it discuss annoying theoretical raptors?”

"No."

"Practical raptors?"

"NO raptors!"

"That's disappointing." Her ears drooped for exactly half a second before perking back up. "What's it about then? Can I see? Can I? Can I?" She hopped closer, trying to peek around his arms.

Granddad sighed and showed her the cover. ‘Holofractals, the Door to Everywhere by Dr. Kerenski.’ “It's about dimensional mathematics and—"

"Sounds booooring!" Nessy announced, then immediately contradicted herself by shoving her snout practically against the pages. "Wait, there's pictures! Are those snowflakes? Why are the snowflakes angry? They look angry. Everything looks angry when you draw arrows on it."

"Those aren't snowflakes, they're fractal patterns representing—"

"ALEC!" Nessy suddenly shrieked, having apparently just remembered why she came. She bounded toward my bed and launched herself at me, over a hundred pounds of husky enthusiasm landing directly on my stomach.

"Oof!" I wheezed. "Nessy, breathing is—"

"You're awake! Finally! I've been throwing rocks for like... FIVE WHOLE MINUTES! That's basically forever in prad years! We're gonna be late for the mall! Remember? You promised! Mall mall mall mall mall!"

She punctuated each 'mall' with a bounce on my ribs.

"The mall... doesn't open... for another hour," I gasped.

"PRE-MALL WALK!" she declared. "We can walk AROUND the mall! Smell all the smells of Dimsdale Avenue before the other smells get there!"

Grandpa snorted. "Let the boy breathe, you ridiculous creature."

Nessy rolled off me but immediately began pawing at my arm. "Come onnnn! The early human catches the... the thing humans catch!” 

“Worms?” I yawned.

“Why would you want worms? Humans are weird.”

"Says the girl who tried to eat a pine cone last week," I muttered, sitting up.

"It LOOKED crunchy!" she defended. "How was I supposed to know it wasn't food? It was sitting there all food-shaped!"

"Everything is food-shaped to you."

"Not everything! Rocks aren't food-shaped. Usually. Except those ones that look like potatoes. Have you seen those? Verrrrry misleading."

My grandfather shook his head, returning to his book. "Kerensky theorizes that reality itself is fractal in nature, that every point contains infinite data and infinite depth..."

"Like my love for chicken nuggets!" Nessy interjected, somehow having teleported next to him again. "Infinite depth! Infinite nuggets! I wish that someday the Superstore on Dimsdale is gonna be infinite and we’ll have infinite shopping fun there!”

"That's not even remotely—"

"Is your book edible?" She sniffed at it. "It smells old. Old things are sometimes cheese. Is it book cheese?"

"Book cheese isn't a thing!" He pulled the book away from her invasive nose.

"Everything's a thing if you believe hard enough!" Nessy spun in a circle three times for no apparent reason, then froze mid-spin. "Alec! Your grandpaw has a book about doors and pacts! Are you getting a doggy door? Please say yes! I'm tired of knocking! My paws hurt! Look!"

She held up a perfectly healthy hand, opening her white fingers and wiggling her pink pads at me.

"You throw rocks," he reminded her dryly. "You don't knock. I do wish that you would learn to knock.”

"Rocks are nature's knocking utensils!" She nodded sagely, then immediately got distracted by something under the table. "Is that a PENNY?”

“Behold!” She manifested in my bed, shoving a penny into my face. “A penny from the future!”

I squinted at the penny being wiggled in front of my face. “1969 isn’t the future.”

“Time’s cyclical. Is what your grandad’s book says! If time is a… mobiushh loop n’ events are repeating endlessly, henceforth nineteen-sixty-nine is in the future.”

“When did you even…?” 

“I read fast. Real fast. Life passes you by if you read like a snail.” She vanished off the bed and reappeared with an old tennis ball in her mouth. “

"Ball." She announced around the tennis ball, then immediately spat it out into my lap. "Tastes like old feet! Why do all tennis balls taste like old feet? Have you tasted old feet? Don't answer that. I'm going to assume no because you're not into chewing balls like me."

"No ball, going to the bathroom now," I mumbled, escaping from the sheets and stumbling toward the RV's tiny bathroom, blushing as Nessy spun around me like a hurricane, sniffing me.

"Nooo!" Nessy dramatically threw herself against the bathroom door as I tried to close it. "Don't leave me alone with your grandpa! He'll make me think about MATH!"

"It's theoretical quantum physics." Grandpa said.

"SAME THING!" she wailed through the door crack. "Evil Numbers that judge you!"

I managed to shut the door, hearing a soft thump as Nessy slumped against it from the outside.

"Aleeeeec," her muffled voice came through the thin, wobbly door. "I had the weirdest dreams again last night."

“Tell me later." I responded, turning on the fan to block out the husky noises and also to provide myself a semblance of privacy.

The old fan lasted only ten minutes, which allowed me to use the toilet and shower without being bugged by 50 million husky questions.

"The seventh dream was about this boy who reunites with his childhood best friend after like... thirteen years? But plot twist! She's a Wendigo cryptid! With antlers and everything! And they go on adventures and she eats bad peeps who are mean to him, which is actually kind of sweet if you think about it in a murder-y sort of way."

I squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, half-listening to her ramble.

"Like, imagine if I was a Wendigo! I'd be so good at it! Except I'd probably get distracted by regular food and forget to be scary. 'FEAR ME MORTAL! But first, is that a hot dog cart?'"

"You can't be a Wendigo. You're already a Siberian husky."

"Says who? Maybe I'm a pradavarian Wendigo! Double creature feature! Twice the weird, half the sense!"

I started brushing my teeth as she continued.

"My second dream was even weirder! The Superstore on Dimsdale? It was INFINITE! Like, actually infinite! Aisles that went on forever! And our best friend was this super cool raptor girl, not like that annoying Kristi Strand from school who always glares at me like I personally offended her ancestors. Are raptors and dogs mortal enemies cus we like chaos and they like orderly-ness? What do you think?"

I paused mid-brush, thinking about Kristi. Was she actually annoying? If anything, Kristi was the complete opposite of Nessy - almost unnaturally calm, always composed, moving through the hallways like she was gliding. She had this way of looking at people judgingly, especially Nessy. Not annoying exactly.

I wondered what it would be like to hug her and then pushed the thought aside. Nessy would never allow me to hug any other prad, claiming full dominion over my personal space at all times. Such was the hardships of having a husky best friend.

"The dream raptor Kristi was way cool!" Nessy continued, her tail thumping against the door. "She was serious but sooo sweet! And your grandad’s RV protected us at night from the scary things! Why would an RV be in a superstore? Dream logic is weird."

"Everything about you is weird, you weirdo," I voiced.

"Thank you! I try," Nessy chirped. "Oh! And in the dream, you kept dying and coming back! Like you had superpowers! But specifically the worst superpower - infinite dying! Who would want that?"

I spat out toothpaste and rinsed my mouth. "That does sound like the worst superpower."

“Ye, it's like, just trauma with extra steps, dude,” Nessy agreed. 

Despite myself, I snorted with laughter. Nessy’s dreams were always absurd or maybe she just had a hyperactive imagination and a mouth that suffered from the excessive chattiness syndrome? Was that a prad thing? 

Probably.

89. Imaginary Besties

"Even your grandpaw's book makes more sense than my dreams! And that book has angry snowflakes that are actually dimensions or something!"

"Fractals," my grandfather corrected wearily.

"Bless you!" Nessy responded. "Is that German? It sounds German. Everything sounds German if you say it angry enough. FRACTALZH!" She barked it gutturally. "See? Totally German."

"Fractals prove the holographic nature of reality,” my grandfather quoted.

“Why would you want to know that reality’s fake?” Nessy huffed.

“So that you could escape to actual reality,” drandgad replied 

“That’s like a sadge thing. Massive sadge. Alec, just so you know I don’t care if reality’s fake, ‘cus you’re gonna be my bestie no matter what.” Nessy bobbed. “What’s your real reality anyway Mr. Foster? Is it that game, Plants Versus Prads? Cus the main character there is also named Dan?”

My grandfather made a bothered noise.

“Escaping reality sounds passe,” Nessy commented as I opened the door cautiously expecting a face-full of dog. No Nessy-glompage followed. The husky had her dark nose inside of grandpa’s book. “Is there a way to bind someone to yourself?”

“What are you binding to what?” My grandfather asked.

“I’d like to bind the idea of myself to the idea of Alec,” Nessy pursed her dark lips. “Forever. Across everywhere. So he can’t escape my fuzzy clutches.”

“I already can’t escape your clutches,” I pointed out.

“You can’t escape physically. Sometimes.” Nessy stated. “But, like, what if souls are real and you fall off a cliff again and break your neck?”

“I only fell off a cliff once,” I huffed.

“And I heroically rescued your butt,” Nessy puffed up like a pigeon. “But what if I wasn’t around due to… reasons?”

“Let me see here.” Grandfather flipped through the book. “Ah! Here we go. Dagaz. Infinity. Number Eight. This can divide something away from something like a sword that slices through anything or bind something like a soul together.”

“Ohhh yeah, that’ll do nicely,” Nessy grinned, staring at the book page. Then she looked at me like I was the most delicious pie in the universe. Then she asked, "Wait, what's hologfractal mean?"

"It means our reality is mathematically most likely just a projection from a higher dimension," Grandfather explained with the patience of a saint or someone who'd simply given up.

"Like a movie?"

"Sort of, but—"

"WE'RE IN A MOVIE!" Nessy shrieked with delight. "Quick! Everyone look attractive! Oh wait, I always look attractive. Alec! Look attractive! Do something with your hair!"

"My hair is fine," I voiced.

"LIES! I gotta fix your hair stat in case future us are watching the present us through a magic cinema that projects the past into their minds!” The hurricane-girl flashed to my side and began licking her paws and my hair, trying to fix up the dark mop atop of my head.

“Nessy, come on,” I protested. “We’re not watching ourselves from the future…”

"There! Good enough. Hi future Ness, I hope that you succeed at everything we set out to do! Kay. Is mall time! We need to get there before all the good smells are taken!"

"Smells can't be taken, they're—"

"ANYTHING CAN BE STOLEN IF YOU'RE GRABBY ENOUGH!"

She grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the door. "Come on! Infinite possibilities! Finite budget! Theoretical fun! Practical nonsense! Let's go go go go go!"

"At least let me put on shoes—"

“Ughh, you humans and your shoes,” she lamented. 

“Would you rather I be a prad?” I asked.

“No way, there’s already a prad here,” she pointed at her chest. “Moi. Uno prad. No other prads allowed.”

“Cus you’d murder them all?”

“Quite possibly. I don’t trust other prads.”

“Hmrmm. What if they’re your clones?” I finished pulling my shoes on, grabbed my ratty backpack and opened the door.

“Clones are boring,” Nessy huffed. “That would reduce my uniqueness levels.”

“Okay, fine,” I conceded. “What if they’re copies of a single… soul in different girl prad bodies?”

“That is the dumbest thing I heard,” Nessy declared. “Aren’t you supposed to be a nerd? How would that even happen?”

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Just imagining cool stuff.”

“Oi, imagine your harem somewhere else,” Nessy huffed. “I’m a Goodly Nazarite. None of whatever you’re imagining is mathematically or physically possible.”

Somewhere else? Wait. I caught onto her words. Finally, a way to stop my best friend from smothering me with her husky ways. I put my fingers to my temples.

“What are you doing? What’s with the constipated face?”

“I’m imagining my future harem.”

“No! Stop it!”

“Not gonna. You can’t control my thoughts.”

"DON’T WORRY! YOUR GRANDSON WILL BE RETURNED MOSTLY INTACT!" Nessy called into the trailer before slamming the door shut.

Mostly intact? That didn’t bode well.

I decided that it was time to run.

She pounced on me with a growl.

We went tumbling across patchy grass, Nessy trying to pin me down while I desperately attempted to shield my face from her aggressive grooming attempts.

"Stop! Imagining! Harems!" She punctuated each word with a lick to my head, making my hair stick up in increasingly ridiculous directions.

"Never!" I wheezed, trying to roll away. "I'm imagining... a whole pack... of pretty prad girls!"

"LIES AND SLANDER!" Nessy shrieked, but she was laughing too hard to maintain her grip. "Fine! You know what? I have imaginary friends too! Better ones! Cus they don't imagine harems!"

She released me and bounced to her feet, tail wagging triumphantly. I sat up, spitting out grass and trying to flatten my now thoroughly cowlicked hair.

"Imaginary friends who don't imagine imaginary harems?" I asked, brushing dirt off my jeans. "What are you, five?"

"Imagination has no age limit!" She declared, already bounding toward the sidewalk. "Come on! I'll tell you about them on the way to the mall! Wait, no, I gotta imagine them first, damn it. Ughhh… effort.”

I chortled as I exhumed my old, slightly rusted mountain bike from the precariously leaning junk pile. 

The husky practically vibrated down the street, occasionally stopping to sniff particularly interesting fire hydrants or chase a butterfly for three seconds before getting distracted by something else.

“Got it! No… that’s lame,” I heard her mutter as she scrunched her nose. She seemed extra-dedicated to imagining her imaginary best friends now.

We went through town, then the mountain tunnel lit by flickering orange lights, then got onto the winding Ferguson Valley road. Soon enough, Dimsdale Avenue exit sign appeared in view.

In another ten minutes, I dismounted from the bike. Nessy, panting furiously, climbed into the metal trash bin and began to furiously dig through it.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“What?” She stuck her black and white mane from the trash bin. “One person’s trash is another husky’s treasure. I’m not made of infinite money.”

There was clanking, a triumphant “HAH!”, then the sound of someone bonking her skull. “Ow. Worth it!”

She popped out, raccoon-chic, holding a stub of battered pink sidewalk chalk like she’d pulled Excalibur from a landfill. “Behold! The wishstick.”

“That’s chalk.”

“Shush. It’s destiny compressed into a pentagon! Five sides for five BFFs!”

“Five bffs?” I stepped back to avoid the odours emanating from the husky. “That’s a lot of BFFs.” I momentarily imagined four Nessies twirling around me, burying me in four times as much attention. 

A most horrible fate.

“Shush,” Nessy chided me. “A group of five is the perfect amount of BFFs to form a dungeon delving party.”

“Where are you gonna find dungeons to delve in?” I wondered.

“Don’t know,” she shrugged. “Dungeons are prolly SUPERRRR common in the future. Quality BFFs? See those are hella rare. First we need to manifest our future best friends. Step one is imagining them.”

“Did you imagine them already?”

“Duh. Behold!”

She fluttered to the back, gray concrete wall of the Superstore.

Nessy planted her feet, tongue out in concentration, and went to work.

First: broad pink arcs. “Raptor,” she narrated, sketching talons, a long tail, the suggestion of feathers that somehow looked smug. “This is Kristi, except she’s nice.”

“Kristi is nice,” I said. “She gave me a bento box that one time I forgot lunch.”

“No!” Nessy declared. “That’s just clever girl raptor lies. She’s only acting nice to you to steal you from my paws.”

“Riiiight.”

Second figure emerged from Nessy’s chalk-wall-artistry: sharp ears, floofy tail, sly grin. “Fox. She steals corporate secrets but only from corporations that deserve it.”

“So all of them?”

“Correct.” Nessy flicked her wrist, added a tiny heart-shaped nose. “Hrm. She needs a magic power.”

“How about gluing stuff to stuff?”

Nessy stared at me. 

“What?”

“That’s dumb. I’m vetoing your ideas forever.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Reported for expression-slander. Put those eyes down.”

The third sketch began.

“Cheetah?” I guessed.

“How’d you do that?” Nessy spun around, squinting at me.

“I dunno,” I shrugged. “Educated guess?”

“Hrmmm, sneaky hobbitssses, reading my mind,” Nessy spun back to the wall, drawing a jacket with a ridiculous number of studs. “Cheetah, yes. She’s like super mean but’ stronk.”

“Why?”

“I dunno.”

“Maybe her family’s mean?” I suggested.

“Ughhhh, stop ruining my imaginary besties with gritty realism. Nobody likes gritty realism, Alec. She’s mean cus…” Nessy pursed her lips. “Cus’ she’s a badass girrrrl with a heart of gold. There.”

“Is she in a biker gang too?”

“No. Stop violating my imaginary friends with your gritty realism. Draw your own besties.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Good, go do that. Shooo.”

I realised that I didn’t have a chalk to draw with, but asking Nessy to split the chalk meant making a concession to her. 

“So? Why aren’t you drawing?” She asked. 

“Corrupting your ideas is more fun,” I grinned.

“Mean. I should unfriend you forever on Pradstagram.”

“Who would you harass with dog memes if you unfriend me?”

“Ughhh, fine, you win this round you dastardly human,” the husky growl-laughed, focusing on her wall art. She scribbled a tiny speech bubble near the cheetah: “NO WEAK SAUCE. I CLAIM U, TATER!” Then, humming, she started the last figure.

At first I thought she was doodling me: lanky human, dumb hair, hoodie. Then she drew some kind of mess. Inside the chest. A snowflake or something. Then branches rising up through the ribs, splitting and curling, peeking out above the head like antlers. She added one, two, three crude little circles on the right hand.

“Okay,” I said. “So that’s your Wendigo best friend.”

She stopped, looking scandalized. “Excuse me?”

“You literally gave him antlers.”

“These aren’t antlers. They’re branches. Antlers say ‘headbutt’!” She flashed from the wall to headbutt me from the side. “Branches say ‘photosynthesis, baby’. Entirely different vibe.” She dabbed four more circles on the hand. 

“What are those?”

“Extra eyeballs. In case of seeing more stuff.”

“Right.” I folded my arms. “And who, exactly, is Tree Antler Boy?”

She squinted at me like I’d failed the world’s easiest riddle. “Obviously you.”

“I don’t have antlers.”

“Branches.”

“I don’t have branches.”

“You have metaphoric branches,” she declared. “Inside bones. Secretly. In case of emotional weather.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It’s going to be a thing when I make it a thing.” She stood back, proud, hands on hips. The four chalk figures lined the wall like a team poster for some kind of illegal sport. “Pack.”

“Pack?”

“Yeah!” She pointed from raptor to fox to cheetah. “Friends. Then pointed both thumbs at the branch-headed human. “Anchor.”

“Why do I get to be the anchor?”

“Because you’re so dense.”

“Wow. Remind me again why we’re friends?”

“Its ‘cause you’re stubborn like a tree. And because when things go weird, you don’t run. You… plant. Then the rest of us will tie ourselves to you so we don't get blown away by winds of entropy.”

“Winds of entropy? Sounds like a metal band,” I laughed. “Are you done with this nonsense? Because I want breakfast. Superstore’s gonna open soon.”

Nessy stared at the wall. “Damn it. I forgot to draw myself.”

“You’re not your own imaginary best friend.” I pointed out.

“Shush. This is future Nessy,” she quickly drew herself hugging the antlerred Alec. “There. She’s less me but also me. Cus… fractals.”

90. Superstore Breakfastery

“Why am I so short and you’re so tall and curvy?” I asked, critically examining her sketch.

“Artistic license. Also, I’ll outgrow you pretty soon, dummy.”

“You wish.”

“Digitigrade legs, my dude. Look at ‘em n’ weep!” Nessy pointed at her clawed feet. 

I looked at her lopsided drawings, trying not to stare at her slender, muscular legs. The figures were uneven, rough, incomplete, lacking shading and proper anatomy.

“Gimme the chalk,” I said.

"No! You'll make them all anatomically correct and boring!" Nessy clutched the pink stub protectively.

"Just let me fix the hands. Your cheetah has like... seven fingers."

"Maybe she NEEDS seven fingers! For... finger things!"

"Finger things?"

"You know! Counting to seven! Playing piano with extra notes! Aggressive pointing!"

I lunged for the chalk. Nessy yelped and tried to dodge, but I managed to snag it during her dramatic spin move that accomplished nothing except making her dizzy.

"Betrayal!" she gasped. "Chalknapping!"

I approached her drawing and started adding proper proportions to the raptor figure. Defined the curve of the skull, the way feathers would actually lay, how broad the shoulders would actually be on a tall prad.

"Nooo!" Nessy wailed. "You're making her look like actual Kristi! That defeats the whole purpose!"

"Actual Kristi looks nice though."

Nessy made a sound like a deflating balloon full of indignation. "EXCUSE ME? Did you just call THAT EVIL RAPTOR 'nice looking'? In front of your BEST FRIEND? This is TREASON!”

“Uh-huh,” I rolled my eyes. “What are you gonna do? You have no power here.”

Nessy grumbled something about biting my shins under her breath.

"I meant ‘pretty’ aesthetically—" I said, worrying about her actually biting me.

"Oh, so now you're using fancy words to hide your raptor… infatuation!"

“What? I don’t have raptor…”

"Then why are you drawing her chest so carefully?! Huh? HUH?!”

I paused mid-stroke. I had been adding a bit too much detail to that area. "It's called anatomical accuracy. And it’s not Kristi. She’s taller and curvier and has a sharper face, see? And she’s wearing… a diamondust dress and magic armor with runes on it. No such thing exists in reality obviously.

“Whatever dude, I can sniff right thru’ your devious sneaky hooman lies. Stop making my imaginary friend hot! She's supposed to be friend-shaped, not girlfriend-shaped!"

"There's a difference?"

"YES! Friend-shaped is like—" Nessy made vague blob gestures with her paws. "Comfortable! Like a bean bag! Girlfriend-shaped is all—" She made aggressive hourglass motions that nearly took out my eye. "Dangerous! Distracting! Leads to poor life choices!"

"You literally drew yourself with massive—"

"Shush! Stop making them 3D! They're supposed to be flat! Flat friends! Two-dimensional buddies! No depth!"

"That's literally the opposite of what you want in friends."

"Not imaginary ones! Imaginary friends should be simple! Like chicken nuggets! Nobody questions chicken nuggets!"

I snorted, trying to fix the tree-person's proportions while Nessy hung off my other arm like a furry boat anchor. "Your tree-me looks like he got struck by lightning and decided to photosynthesize about it."

"That's his AESTHETIC! He's post-apocalyptic chic!"

"What apocalypse has he even encountered?”

“I dunno. The doom kind! The kind where someone opens a door that can’t be closed! With fractals!”

“Yeah, okay. Sure, dude. Seriously, though, why does future Alec have eyes on his hand?"

"I told you. For SEEING THINGS BETTER! It's practical!"

"It's disturbing."

"You're disturbing! Your whole face is disturbing!" 

I frowned.

She paused. "Wait, no, I take that back. Your face is actually okay. Adequate. Satisfactory at best. Tolerable."

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement. You probably think my face is lickable if anything.”

"I...!" She let go of my arm to examine my corrections. "Ugh, you made them all look... competent. Realistic. Where’s the whimsy?”

My stomach growled loudly.

"Ooh, the human needs feeding!" Nessy spun toward the Superstore entrance. "MacPaws time! Race you!"

"You always win races. You have four-leg drive."

"Technically I run on two legs, but whatever makes you feel better about losing!" She was already bouncing toward the automatic doors. "Last one there has to pay!"

"We always split it anyway!"

"SEMANTICS!"

The Superstore's excessive air conditioning hit us like walking into a refrigerator made of fluorescent lights and ads. 

"Nuggets nuggets nuggets," Nessy chanted. "Twenty piece. No, FORTY piece. No wait—"

"They don't sell forty pieces."

"Then I'll get two twenties! MATH!"

“You’re going to explode.”

“I will not! I have goals!”

“What goals? To be round?”

“I…” Nessy froze again, her brain clearly overheating trying to outthink me.

. . .

We passed through the camping section on the way to the food court. I slowed down, eyeing the supplies. We were supposed to go camping this afternoon, and I wasn't sure if we had everything.

"Ooh, look!" Nessy had stopped at an endcap display. "Glow sticks! We need these!"

"We have flashlights."

"Flashlights don't make you look like a rave wizard!" She grabbed three packs. "I'm gonna tape these to my tail and spin around!"

"That's how you set the forest on fire."

"Glow sticks don't make fire, dummy. They make GLOW. Totally different element."

I picked up a pack of emergency rain ponchos. Last time we went camping, Nessy had insisted she didn't need one because 'fur is nature's raincoat.' Three hours later, she looked like a miserable mop and spent the entire night trying to steal my sleeping bag.

"We don't need those!" She protested. "I've evolved since last time!"

"You literally haven't."

"I've evolved EMOTIONALLY. I'm now okay with being wet and miserable!"

"No, you're not."

"...Okay fine, but I promise not to whine about it as much!"

"You whined for six straight hours."

"I promise to keep it under five hours!"

I grabbed two ponchos. Then mosquito spray, because Nessy always forgot that mosquitoes could bite through fur. Some trail mix maybe—

"ALEC!"

I turned to find Nessy frozen in place, her hackles slightly raised. She was staring toward the electronics section with the intensity of a dog who'd spotted a particularly offensive…

"What?"

"Raptor at three o'clock."

I looked. Kristi Strand was examining phones at the display counter, her navy and emerald feathers catching the harsh fluorescent light. She wore a crisp white shirt and jeans with fake scratches.

"So?"

"SO?! She's clearly stalking us!"

"She's shopping. In a store. Where people shop."

"Nobody shops for phones at 8 AM! Is suspicious behavior!"

"You're literally buying forty chicken nuggets for breakfast."

"That's NORMAL behavior! For ME!"

Before I could respond, Kristi looked up and spotted us. Her amber eyes met mine, and she offered a small nod of acknowledgment. The gesture made Nessy's tail bristle.

"Don't wave back," Nessy hissed. "It's a trap."

I waved back.

"TRAITOR!" She hissed as quietly as possible.

Kristi approached with a smooth raptor gait, feathered tail swaying slowly.

"Hi Alec," she said. "...Nessy." 

"Kristiiiii," Nessy drew out the name like it tasted sour. "Fancy seeing you here. In the place. Where things are sold."

"Yes, that's typically what stores are for," Kristi replied. Her attention shifted back to me. "Camping supplies? Planning a trip?"

"Yeah, heading to Clashridge Peak this afternoon," I said.

"Weather report suggests a 60% chance of rain."

"Rain is just sky water!" Nessy interjected. "We're not afraid of sky water! We LAUGH at sky water! Ha ha!"

"How... brave," Kristi's tone was neutral, but something in her eyes suggested amusement. "Though perhaps bringing adequate rain protection would be more practical than simply laughing at precipitation."

"We have ponchos!" I held up the basket full of stuff.

"Two ponchos," Kristi observed. "How thoughtful of you to remember Nessy needs one this time."

Nessy's eye twitched. "How did you—"

"Your Pawstagram story. Six hours of progressively damper selfies captioned with variations of 'existence is pain' and 'why did God make water?'"

"That was PRIVATE suffering!"

"On a publicly viewed post."

"PRIVATELY public suffering! Why you stalking me? Stalky raptor up to no good.”

Kristi's attention hadn't left me. "Which trail are you taking?"

"The blue loop, probably," I said. "Unless Nessy gets distracted by something shiny."

"I don't get distracted by—OOH, those keychains have LASERS! We need one of those."

Kristi smirked slightly. "The blue loop is pleasant. Though the eastern fork tends to flood. I'd suggest the ridge trail instead."

"You've been to Clashridge Peak?" I asked, surprised.

"Several times. My family has a cabin near there."

"Of course you do," Nessy muttered. "Probably made of gold and condescension."

"Cedar and stone, actually," Kristi replied. "Though I understand how someone might confuse natural materials with precious metals. They're both worth more than chalk dust."

Nessy gasped. There was definitely chalk dust on her shirt. "This is ARTISTIC RESIDUE!"

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"Girls," I intervened, sensing the tension ratcheting up. "MacPaws?"

"I couldn't possibly," Kristi said, though she fell into step with us anyway. "I've already eaten. A balanced breakfast. With vegetables."

"Vegetables for breakfast is a crime against nature," Nessy declared.

"Says the girl who tried to eat a pine cone."

"How does EVERYONE know about the pine cone?!"

"Pawstagram.”

Nessy groaned. "I need to make my account private."

"You won't," Kristi observed. "You crave validation too much."

"I crave NUGGETS! Totally different!"

"Is it though?"

We reached the food court. The wolf prad teenager behind the MacPaws counter looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. His nametag said 'Brad' but his expression said 'end me please.'

"Welcome to MacPaws, what can I—oh god, it's you." Brad stared at Nessy with the hollow eyes of someone who'd seen too much.

"BRADLEY!" Nessy slammed her paws on the counter. "Forty nuggets! Stat!"

"We don't—"

"Two twenties! With ALL the sauces!"

Brad looked at me pleadingly. I shrugged, glancing at Krist.

“Stop staring at her, if you engage her she’ll never go away,” Nessy’s bothered glare implied. I ignored her.

“I’ll take… an orange juice,” Kristi concluded.

“Just a JUICE? Breakfast fraud!" Nessy growled.

"That's not a thing.”

"Brad, write her a citation! Breakfast fraud!" Nessy sought the McPaws employee’s help.

“Miss,” Brad said. “We do not write citations to customers.”

“You should!” Nessy huffed. “She’s obviously a villainous creature who should be banned from the Superstore for life.”

Brad had already walked away to start our order, probably contemplating whether working at local McPaws was worth it with insane customers like Nessy.

. . .

We found a table. Nessy immediately claimed the spot next to me, momentarily practically climbing into my lap to establish dominance. Kristi sat across from us with a sharp posture that made me unconsciously straighten my own spine.

"So," Kristi said, producing a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her bag and offering it around. "You're going camping in potential rain with inadequate supplies and no backup plan."

"We have backup plans!" Nessy protested. "If it rains, we get wet! If it storms, we get very wet! If there's lightning, we hide under trees!"

"That's literally the opposite of what you should do in lightning."

"Then we hide BETWEEN trees! Compromise!"

Kristi turned to me. "How do you survive her?"

"Practice," I said. "And a lot of advil."

"RUDE! I'm delightful! Tell her I'm delightful, Alec!"

"You're... something."

"That's not delightful! That's vague! Vague is raptor territory!"

"Excuse me?" Kristi's feathers fluttered. "Raptors aren't vague. We're precise."

"Precisely vague!"

"That's an oxymoron."

"You're an oxy—wait, no." Nessy paused, regrouping. "You're a regular moron!"

"Wow you’re so eloquent in your insults."

"Das’ right!"

Brad arrived with our tray, practically throwing it at the table before fleeing. The nuggets were still steaming, and Nessy immediately burned her tongue trying to eat one.

"Ack. HAWT! HAWT! HAWT!"

"They just came out of the fryer," Kristi observed, delicately sipping her juice. “Were you expecting something else?”

"I WANTED TO TASTE THE DANGER!"

"Well, congratulations. How's that working out?"

Nessy was now frantically fanning her mouth while somehow still trying to eat more nuggets. It was like watching someone repeatedly touch an electric fence while complaining about being shocked.

"So the ridge trail," I said. "Any particular spots we should check out?"

Kristi brightened slightly. "There's a stellar overlook about two miles in. You can see the entire valley. The acoustics are remarkable too."

"Ooh, I could howl!" Nessy said through a mouthful of nuggets. "I'm gonna howl SO MUCH! Alec, remind me to howl! Put it on my schedule.”

"Do you have to?”

"Valley howling is happening! It's been decided! Democracy!"

"That's not how democracy works," Kristi said.

"Is dogocracy! Alec does what I want. I do what I want. I vote that I'm always RIGHT!"

"That's—" Kristi paused, visibly deciding this wasn't worth pursuing. "Never mind."

I bit into my burger, watching them. There was something almost choreographed about their antagonism, like they'd rehearsed being irritated with each other. I could hardly imagine how much worse it would get once they were both adults and started to go into cycle. They would probably murder each other.

Nessy dropped a nugget and dove after it.

“If the storm gets too strong, come to my cabin,” Kristi suddenly slid forward and whispered. “I’ll keep the back door open.”

“What are you hissing up there?” Nessy emerged from under the table.

"Enjoy your camping trip. Try not not to get lost on the trail,” Kristi said loudly, retreating back.

"We never try!" Nessy declared. "Things gotta happen naturally, das’ how we roll, right Alec?”

“Sure.”

"That's… reassuring."

"Alec's pretty good at not dying, you kno’. He only fell off one cliff! Didn’t even die, even though he drowned for a bit."

"WHAT?"

"Nothing!" I said quickly, elbowing the husky. "She's joking. No cliffs. No falling."

Kristi looked between us, clearly wanting to ask more but visibly restraining herself again. "Right. Well. Don't fall off any more cliffs. See you later, Alec.”

"Can't promise that!" Nessy called as Kristi walked away. "Cliffs are sneaky!"

When she was gone, Nessy immediately pounced on my fries.

"Hey! Get your own fries."

"No. Is tolerance tax!”

“What?”

“I successfully didn't bite her! Can’t even enjoy a nice McPaws breakfast without raptor invasions,” she huffed, demolishing my fries faster than I could stop her.