The Sixth Verse

The Sixth Verse

A Chapter by raven glassbone

Nomad must face the music to the tune of Ms. Yow.


Nomad awoke from his slumber to Ms. Yow peering over him with a drink in her hand.  He knew not how much time had passed but he at the very least he remembered what led him to fall unconscious.  “Bit of flavor, sugar?”

“Anything to get that retched taste out of my mouth,” Nomad replied, then sat up to take a sip of the drink she offered.  Ms. Yow’s anesthetic tonic worked better than most anesthetics used in hospitals.  It puts patients to sleep within seconds, wears off with no feeling of grogginess upon waking, and all but completely dulls the pain for several hours without numbing any limbs.  Nomad knew not of what the ingredients were but it was not a pleasurable concoction to drink.  “How long was I out?”

“That dosage I gave ya was good for about an hour, but you must have been restless today.  Ya came to about ten minutes early,” Ms. Yow told him.  Nomad looked around for his clothes.  “So quick to get dressed, don’t ya wanna double check to see how good a job I did on ya?”

“If I was worried about that I wouldn’t be here,” he responded as he got dressed.

“Well don’t you want to know about those wounds, sugar?” she asked in a playful tone.

“The fact I survived should say it all.”

“Oh believe me, sugar, that wound on your chest was meant to kill you.  The fact that it didn’t only raises more questions.  The first of these questions: why aren’t you dead?”  Nomad never really gave it any thought.  He could remember plain as day the feeling of the assassin’s claws digging deep into his chest.  He remembered the pain, but never evaluated the extent of the damage itself.  “Have you any idea of just how close to your heart those wounds were?  I spent a good deal of time picking bone shards out of that rusty cage of yours, sugar.  Another question is how did you manage to even carry that broken sword in here in the first place?”

Nomad looked down at the bandages on his left forearm.  “I could barely move the damned thing.”

“Makes perfect sense, sugar,” the badger continued, “whoever attacked you didn’t want you using that arm for anything outside decoration!”

“And you’re certain this wasn’t caused by some sort of rabid-“

“I work the anatomy for a living, Nomad!”  Ms. Yow rarely called him by his name unless she was being serious.  “That wasn’t just a lucky strike; those holes in your left arm were made with precision.  They were meant to kill the nerves from your bicep down!  Nothing rabid could have done!  And yet somehow you were able keep a grip on that tattered piece of sheet metal you carry around.  No one heals from that, Nomad, so how in the hell are you still able to move that arm?!!”

This wasn’t a conversation Nomad could just walk away from; he knew this all too well.  This wasn’t his first visit to Ms. Yow for treatment.  Sure, his wounds previous to now were minor.  This was due to the fact that his previous attackers were not as successful as the one from earlier today.  Nomad knew he would soon have to answer to Ms. Yow of the cause of all his injuries, but never expected that day to come so soon.  He also didn’t know how to explain to her how he was able to withstand such punishment.

“What, ya got nothing to say?”

“It’s complicated,” Nomad responded after a moment of silence.  “I doubt you could even comprehend everything revolving around this-“

“Oh, so you have a story for me.  Then let me grab a couple of chairs from the back, sugar.  I’m here for the night,” Ms. Yow snapped back at him, “and as far as what I can comprehend, you just leave that up to me-“

“Ms. Yow, there’s another fight brewing up,” Missy called out from the bar.

“I’ll go handle this ruckus, sugar, no need to ruin such a good job I worked so hard on,” Ms. Yow said just before making her way towards the door.

“And you are the best at what you do, Ms. Yow.”  Nomad replayed the words in his mind, contemplating how empty he spoke them into the air.  He finished getting dressed to the sounds of yelling from the bar.  Ms. Yow knew how to throw her weight to her advantage.  If there was anything he feared more in a fight than her he didn’t know what it was, despite the fact he could actually take her on and come out victorious.  He reached out to grab his sword but hesitated, looking down at the bandage one more.  “I can’t tell you about this,” he said to himself, “not now, not yet at least.”  He picked up the sword and proceeded to exit the back room.

The patrons of the bar seemed to have settled down quickly after the disturbance.  Ms. Yow was already giving the spiel to the gentlemen responsible.  Missy was applying the finishing touches on a round of drinks on the house for everyone.  He immediately took notice to the number of glasses on the bar being one extra than the quick head count he made.  His eyes immediately made contact to a wobbly, blushing Sada barely sitting in the barstool he once occupied.  “Oh, hai…hic!”

I swear I can’t leave this kid alone, he thought to himself.

© 2011 raven glassbone

Author's Note

raven glassbone
This is a writing in progress and I feel the need to add a few notes about this:
-the characters are all anthropomorphic animals, not humans
-grammar will be corrected as I review previous chapters
-aspects of characters, events and setting are subject to change
-all characters are of my own design unless specified otherwise
-chapters will be uploaded out of order
-anything written in brackets are used as placeholders

Beyond this, feel free to rip it apart!

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Added on April 22, 2011
Last Updated on April 22, 2011
Tags: extinction, level, event, nine, furry, post, apocalyptic, pandemic, cataclysm