She-Swine

Olive tossed as she came to, her stomach snarling, tongue like sandpaper in her mouth. She groaned, aches pulsing in her feet, her back. As hungry as she was, as thirsty, the warmth of her cot won out, holding her in a vice grip. Nothing worse than waking up, no matter where you go...

Something poked her snout. Pain rushed through her face. 

Her eyes snapped open, and she shot forward, bolt upright, throwing the starchy sheet from her legs. 

The sleeper looked down at her, blank-faced, hazel eyes wide, knowing. Her fists, seeming smaller and more delicate than they were the night before, huddled at her chest as she watched, waited.

"H-hi..." The girl warbled, waving a few trembling fingers. 

Olive's pale face waxed. "Helloooo?" She waved back, eyes snapping about. The other cots were bare, sheets askew, and the lambent orb was gone, replaced by a flickering candle on the table. 

The girl averted her eyes, twisting a forelock into a corkscrew. "Th-the others told me to come get you." She pointed to the wooden ladder, the trap door above. "B-but you were still dreaming. It was a pretty dream..."

Olive arched a brow. Of course she can look at my dreams. Why wouldn't she be able to?! "Why would you tell me that?"

"Am I not supposed to?!" The girl asked, her soft, lilting voice rising to a panic. "I'm sorry! I apologize! I can't help it! I just see them! And I thought people liked talking about them, so--"

I liked her better when she was snoring and choking people out. "What do they want?" She asked, voice creaky and stern as she rubbed at her eyes. 

The girl twitched, hugging herself. "J-just to talk about the dagger. How to get it. Whether the one with purple hair is scheming something. Things like that. I don't know, I never know these things..."

Olive's tail twitched. "Then let's just go, alright?" She said, swinging out of her cot--

--and smacking her foot on the table, knocking over the candle. The flame lapped at the wood, flaring, reaching out like hungry tendrils as Olive lurched back. It was faster, nibbling at her stained shirt, clawing for the tips of her hair.

"Gah!" She squawked, kicking, flailing, squealing like a pig in a sty, trying to slip the hog tie. Stop, drop, roll! Stop, drop, roll!

But her trotter was jammed, wedged between the table and cot. It twisted painfully, made her yelp, convulse in agony and panic. 

Great, I can't even get up in the morning without starting a fire! She slapped at her shirt, the flames flaying hot against her skin, the stink of burning cloth stinging her eyes as she thrashed, thrashed...

And a blanket wrapped around her, tight. Smoke belched upward, blew against her face, but the heat dispelled, reduced to a muted smoulder about her arms and shoulders. 

"Are you alright?!" The girl asked, voice keen, folding the blanket up tight behind her back. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-- sorry..."

Olive laid back, taking in deep, smoky breaths, coughing them out. Pained tears squeezed from her eyes, blurring her vision, no matter how she blinked them out. The fact that that could have been her end, squalling and flailing with her foot stuck between a table and bed, reared at the front of her mind. "Physically, yes." But I'll be talking to my therapist about this. After I get a therapist...

The girl produced a lace handkerchief, dabbed at the Porcene's eyes and cheeks, and smiled. "That's good. No need to be embarrassed. I do stupid things all the time. I don't know what a therapist is, though. What magic do they do?"

Olive quailed. Wait, can she--

The girl nodded with a demure smile. "Like I said, I can't help it. And I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about! I only talk about a person's thoughts with the person who thinks them!"

Lovely.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," the girl said, playing with her hair again. "Nice, yes, but 'lovely' is a bit off the mark. It can be a bit much, at times. Not that you're a bit much! Just... everyone, thinking loudly, all the time..." Her face darkened, a pearl of sweat glittering above a pale brow. 

Olive swallowed, suddenly taut in her wrapping. "Where's Sianna?"

"Oh, up there, like I said!"

Olive wriggled her snout. "C-can we go there?"

The girl's face broadened. "Yes! Yes, sorry!"

"You've said."

"Just a second. Let me--" She reached out, shoved the table away with deceptive ease. Her trotter came loose.

Turning back, the girl grinned, teeth shimmering, even in the dim light. "There! Just--" She went to unwrap her, paused, loosed a snort. "S-sorry, but... I need to!" She giggled into the heel of her hand, then gestured toward the pork burrito. "Pig! In blanket!"

People have done war crimes for less than this...

"It was worth it! You look so cute!" She almost squealed.

Olive's face was a furnace, and her neck twisted and bulged around the hem of the blanket. "What happened to miss 'trembles at the slightest breeze'?!"

"She realized you were harmless. And cute." She said, fidgeting with a pendant at her neck.

"Can you just get me out of this?!" Olive huffed, warm air steaming from her snout. 

"Oh, you can just take it off." The girl told, a smug smile crossing her face. "I didn't tie it or anything."

Olive blinked, then shrugged her shoulders, the blanket falling away. "Oh, god damn it..."

"I'm Luna, by the way!" She said, jittery, bouncing on her heel. "At least, when I'm awake, I'm Luna."

"Olive, but you knew that already, didn't you?" Olive rolled her eyes, standing. The shirt was ruined, holes burned into sleeves, about her chest, blessedly above the... 'forbidden zone'. Still, it made her flush, crossing her arms to cover them. 

"I did. And I'll tell you what..." She crooked her back, crouching down, cupping her mouth and falling into a whisper. "I know what you are, Miss 'CMO of Life'."