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Great Paint Catastrophe 03

by CL Huth 12 months ago in Fantasy · updated 11 months ago
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Ch 3: Magick

Ch 1 | Ch 2

Magick had found a safe place. Granted, somewhere in his little baby brain, he didn't think that his sister or brother would be very happy about his chosen sanctuary. And somewhere else in his little baby brain, he was warm, full and as happy as he was going to be in a place that wasn't home with Mother and Mister, as his sister called his father.

He hadn’t started out safe, of course. After the silliness that happened with Mischief, all that paint and all that pretty glitter in the sky, he had woken up alone in the middle of a purple puddle. At least he thought it was purple. Colors were something he was working on with Mother.

At first, it had been fun. The ground was soft and spongy, and it moved when he crawled on it. The first tree he came across, he climbed up until he was standing. Now, walking proved a little more difficult, but he got his bearings and made it to the next tree. And the next one. And the one after that.

He walked until he was tired, napped until he was rested, and walked some more until his little tummy rumbled. The rumbling became a grumbling, and he was sad. Sadness turned to pouting, and pouting turned to whimpers until those whimpers grew into all out crying.

It wasn't fun anymore, this little trip. He wanted to go home. He wanted Mother. He wanted a bottle. And none of that, not one single thing, was anywhere he could get it.

He was so lost in his crying that the shadow covered him completely before he noticed. “Dada?” He looked up. It was not Dada. No, the great creature that stood next to him in all its shaggy purple glory wasn't his father at all.

It stood taller than Dada and was covered from giant round head to giant bare feet in purple fur that ran the gamut of that color spectrum. Big brown eyes peered from beneath the head shag, above two protruding tusks, their tips long dulled by use. Its mouth opened in a series of guttural noises that ended in a questioning lilt, and Magick could see many teeth.

It occurred to him, as the great beast held out one giant fist, that he should be scared. This beast could easily hurt him. Or eat him. How would Mother find him then? Something about its energy made Magick think he wasn't about to become the evening meal, and when those ginormous fingers unfurled to reveal, of all things, a bottle, he knew he was right.

“Ba,” he said, raising one hand to sign ‘milk’ at the beast. It tilted its hand, and the bottle rolled down to Magick. He didn't think about how odd it was to find exactly what he needed just appeared. That happened at home, too, though usually with one of his siblings nearby. And as he slipped that nipple into his mouth, all the other thoughts slipped away.

He felt the beast scoop him up, and the curve of its palm was so much softer, warmer than his nook in the tree. His eyes drooped with every gentle swing until he fell fast asleep.

Magick had awoken to smells of food and the comfortable wave of heat. He yawned, stretched and rolled over to his stomach. His hands felt fur, and for a second, he wondered if he was asleep atop the great beast’s belly. But a noise stole his attention from the makeshift bed and he looked across the…cave?

And there it was, sitting on the other side of a bonfire like those Mother and Dada raised in the backyard at Samhain and Beltane. Except this one was bigger and through the middle of all those flames hung a great spit with a big hunk of something on it. The beast turned it slowly, but its eyes were all for Magick. It cocked its head in question, and the baby just smiled.

The fur parted across its face, and it smiled back in the widest collection of teeth and gums he had ever seen. The expression looked so foreign, so wrong to him that he could not help but laugh.

The beast laughed back in a low chortle, great hands touching the expanse of its belly. Magick laughed with him, clapping his hands in joy.

After all, he had always known he was the funny one.

Chapter 4


About the author

CL Huth

Writer | Mom | Wife | Nerd | Mental Health Advocate | Democratic Socialist | Atheist

Alphabet Mafia: Bi/Demi She/Her

Published award-winning paranormal author of the Zoe Delante Series (

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