My parasol

Rain plummeted down over a small criss-crossing of weather warn huts, made of mud bricks and thatched roofs of straw. A small trickle of water continued to splash on the nose of Newi, through small patches of damaged material. She leapt up from a light sleep due to the lightning and stomped off to a nook that was the kitchen. She searched, cursed the supposed person who stole her parasol, then with that sudden burst of realisation where you find things straight under your nose occurred. She opened it indoors, bumped many things off of tables and knocked stools over. Within a hasty movement, she angrily stabbed the parasol into the hard dirt above her bed mat - thus causing incredible pain to her nose. She slumped onto her bamboo mat in a fluster, rubbed her nose with a paw then tried to calm down. Slowly, her vision blurred, as her eyes got even heavier with every blink. Finally, as she listened intently on the rhythmic patterns of the rain - she dosed off into a light, turbulent sleep.

A few short hours had passed, now showing signs of the rain letting up from its monsoonal onslaught. Roaring waters were now a silent pitter-patter of liquid wind chimes on a cool midnight breeze. Newi shivered slightly as a gust wafted through a pair of bamboo barred windows, slightly dusting her in a covering of leaf litter. She roused, blinked slightly, and looked for a blanket. She groped in the darkness, searching for a low cupboard that stood next to her. Sitting upright for a while, she looked sideways and thought: Shouldn't I have bumped into my parasol? She stared and picked a dead leaf out of her orange fur, looking at it curiously. This sort of leaf shouldn't be around during this time of year; they only appear during summer, but it's winter in their natural area right now.

With a crunch of leaves underfoot, Newi' gaze leapt to a figure walking outside. Someone was strolling down the muddy path in the village, at this hour? Her heart tensed as signs of curiosity emerged in her head. She can't get back to sleep, knowing full well a stranger could be stalking about without permission of entry. On all fours, as quietly as possible, she crept up to the window. In a misty shawl, she peered through midnight like pouring sand, over the top of her head. She had view to a small, dewy ravine down the northwest, with the solid main road that veined between four different huts, splitting the path to the east and northwest three-hundred feet away, by small rope bridges built over thick and turbulent rivers. The figure stood between the paths. It seemed like it was sniffing the air, with what seemed to be a very long and slender nose. A glow suddenly emanated from the figure, soaking in colours of red, green and yellow. She realised in the glare it was her parasol! Its shimmering glow dimmed away into the night, the figure closed it up.

Fear and anger leapt through her. How was it stolen? Her door was boarded, like every night, with a thick plank of oak; same thing with her windows, the bars were moulded through the mud walls. It was a gift from her mother before she journeyed as an Amazonian Spear-Serpent to the War of the Clawossus. She hadn't much finesse or eloquence of a lady, but she knew what her daughter liked, but never bothered in entertaining the idea. Newi loved its flaring patterns and depictions of great red mountain, shadowing a green and lush marsh with prancing beasts and steamy spirits clutching pearls of lustre and sowing seeds which burst into tree-top cities, all drinking in a simple summer day. It was a gift, the only gift that didn't sport a sharpened edge or killing point. She said it was plundered from an enemy clan' temple. Seeing fit in collecting some of the spoils of battle.
Some crazy spirit-folk, screamed about ending the war with secrets of the object. She killed them before they finished and just grabbed it as she thought of her daughter's silly interest with art and fantasy.

When news of her mothers' death was told amongst the villagers during the war, when she was very young, she broke down in a pool of embarrassed tears. A Daughter of a Spear-Serpent never cried, she remembered her mother's voice, scalding her for crying, while being surrounded by her schoolmates where some were bullying her. She whipped out her parasol, hiding her face from close by villages. When someone asked what was wrong, she sprinted away, almost tripping with her parasol dragged close over her face.

It was precious; it was irreplaceable! Newi growled in animal rage, a deep yet feminine purr of anger wallowed in her throat. She leapt around to her mothers cabinet; the one with the javelins, tied to rows of crocodile teeth, coming with a set of deadly paralytic toxins in small ceramic jars. She pulled the draws open, unwrapped a reed blanket holding the javelin - she held little patience with the small jar of crushed, poisonous herbs, applying it with a small paste stick; instead she clumped it in her hand and dropped a large blob onto the exposed blade. She stomped the oak plank out of its hold and kicked open the door. Her hind paws dug into the sticky forest mud, yet it did nothing to impede her speed. A scaly face whirled around with an oily movement, stared down the long brown path, agape in horror and surprise to see a naked feline cannon towards them with an incredibly long, very real sharp javelin within their hands. A blurred whistling sound shot through the dark with a long thrust. The figure, well, a cloaked figure in Newi's near blind rage: Seemed to bend in a flexible arch, drop away to the left and strike back with an incredible right hook. The feline went down, slumped with one knee in the mud. A serpentine hiss rattled from the hood of the figure. Newi followed its curve to mud caked swerves and iridescent scales that ended in a thin swishing appendage. It held the parasol in its scaly, black-clawed hand, folded up and tied with twine. It let out a drawn out, high pitched hiss, flexed and coiled upon its tail. Newi inhaled sharply and dug her toes in the mud, forcing every muscle to flex and curve like a mighty scythe. She span slightly as the javelin whirred like a scalpel, slicing a thin ribbon through the mud, up towards the parasol thief. Her actions did nothing but to expose her for an attack! Watching the coiled snake figure glide through the mud down low, nearly erupting directly in front of her paws, then leapt in an amazing, metre high uppercut straight to Newi' chin. She landed in a wallow of mud, soaking her fur through, biting at her flesh with a bitter cold. Sputtering hisses sounded similar to laughter, erupted out into the night. The figure suddenly stopped and shirked in pain. The javelin had been pushed out of Newi's hands and flown into the air. It had come down and cut a short strip of flesh from the creatures tail. It glared at Newi closely, looking for movement. She was just conscious, filled with a milky haze, head hurting like hell. The creature coiled around and picked up the javelin, inspected it thoroughly, and then gasped. It growled in anger and broke the javelin in half. It patted its being and searched for something. It cursed in unknown tongues to Newi's barely coherent hearing. It took a glance at Newi once more, hissed, then slithered with great speed northwest over the roaring river bridge, into deep jungle.

Newi was overcome with pain, unable to get balance. She sat with her legs sprawled in the mud, clutching her head. Blue blood; glowing blue blood, was trailing away in a blotted trail out of the village. The creature has been cut with the javelin, she hazarded a smirk but winched at facial movement. Her world swirled as she tried to stand, holding in an urge to vomit. She couldn't rest; this chance to capture the creature was still possible. If she waited, the blood could disappear. She had to act now. An idea erupted: She has to get to Bubva - the local witch doctor and general physician. His potions could possibly heal her sight, or further impair it. That was the case with Bubva's concoctions. You're either saved by his magic, or you die; the spirits were a curious bunch. Newi spat a small ball of blood and stumbled towards a large stilted hut, which slightly stood above a few oceanic, waving huts away.