She scrubbed at the floor, glancing fearfully over her shoulder now and again, waiting to hear the sound of her new master's voice. At least, she thought, this one let me keep my shift on. The silence of the house was the most unnerving aspect of her new captivity; after the raucous atmosphere preferred by her step-mother and sisters, the soundlessness was rather frightening.
A soft scrape immediately caught her attention, and the sensation of being watched rushed over her. Twisting around, the sight of two small mice and a blue bird caused her to drop her rag in surprise.
The bird cocked its head and asked, "Why? Why? Wash why?"
Her jaw fell towards the floor. "Are you talking? To me?"
"Well duh," the white mouse scolded. "Do you see any other idiots scrubbing?"
"Now now, Johnny, be nice, the girl is obviously dim-witted," the brown mouse whispered. In a slightly louder voice, "Are you alright, my dear?"
She blinked rapidly, shook her head, but the three animals remained, apparently waiting for her answer. She tried to decide which question deserved the first response, but...
"I told you the poor thing was slow," murmured Brown Mouse. "She's obviously suffered years of abuse; the trauma has addled her wits."
"Oh, right, one psyche class, and NOW you're an expert!" White Mouse's voice practically dripped sarcasm. "You're the one who wanted to talk to it, so...TALK!"
"Excuse me, I don't mean to be rude, but, animals don't talk, so I'm finally losing it, aren't I?"
Brown, White, and Blue turned to the kneeling girl. "Well, what do you know, it can be taught!" announced White, while Blue chirped, "why? Why? Why?"
Brown Mouse stepped forward. "I am Gerald, my friend, Johnny," he pointed to the white mouse, then gestured to the bird, "and this is Claudius. We were curious as to your rather frantic cleaning of an already spotless floor, and in your underclothing, no less."
She stood, folded her hands behind her neck as she had been taught, and answered, eyes lowered, "I am Cyndi, and my step-mother sold me to this house to serve the Master faithfully, and to fulfill his every whim."
At this pompous declaration, the bird fell off the window ledge, laughing, while the mice had to support each other, their hysterics hook them so.
"'Serve the Master'?" squealed Johnny. "Have you even met him yet?"
"Well..." This was a point which had been bothering her ever since her arrival. She had been left to her own devices for the past two days, and, assuming that her situation remained unchanged -- that she was still a slave -- she found her way to the kitchen and set about her normal tasks. She had neither seen nor heard another human being; in fact, the mice and bird were the first creatures she had encountered since taking her step-mother's "potion."
"You haven't, and you probably will not," Gerald informed her. "He is very...selective about his companions."
"Nothing ever changes; I never am good enough to be a 'companion'," Cyndi whispered. Raising her voice she said, "I don't associate with the family, anyway."
The two mice exchanged a glance as the bird preened. "I don't think you understand, dear." Gerald looked pleadingly at his friend, who shrugged, rolled his eyes, and scratched at his ear with a hind paw. Seeing that he was on his own, he sighed. "You were not brought here to clean, but to regain your lost freedom. You have the run of the house, the grounds...except the forest. THAT is strictly forbidden."
"Yea, keep your fat ass outta Danny-boy's woods! He don't need any OOFFF!"
Gerald removed his elbow from Johnnie's ribs. "The master would prefer that you avoid the forest; there are many dangers, and your safety is f prime importance to him."
"But why? Why should this guy care what happens to me?" Cyndi glared at the mice, dismissing the bird entirely. "I'm not good enough for him to even speak to; Why should it matter if I get hurt, or lost, or whatever?"
"Denial," chirped Claudius, "Denial!"
***
He prowled the halls, growling softly. The girl's scent was everywhere, and the unaccustomed odor was driving him mad. To make matters worse, the fool had wandered to the edge of the woods, marking the path he took to his retreat. Though he had requested her presence, the whole point had been to save her from the violent mistreatment she had received at the hands of her step-mother; it had never been his intention to make her an appetizer. It was becoming obvious, however, that eating her was indeed a very real danger.
Exiting by a small side-door, he inhaled the night air deeply, and then grunted in surprise as the now-familiar aroma dazzled his senses. He caught himself pacing toward it and deliberately turned away, slipping quietly into the forest.
***
She stood at the head of the small game trail, arguing with herself. More than a week had passed since the hallucination (to think of it as anything else would call into question her sanity) about the talking animals, and now she spent her days wandering aimlessly through the castle, listing all of the negative traits she had been told she possessed. Now, faced with the prospect of defying her elusive master's orders, she tried to convince herself that she wouldn't enter the forest, despite the fact that she had stood in this same spot every day since those damn mice had spoken.
"It's not like the guy actually told you not to go into the woods," she reasoned aloud. "Hell, not only has he never told you anything, you don't even know what he bastard looks like! And what kind of man sends two rodents and a bird to deliver messages, anyway?"
A soft flutter caught her attention, as the bird (Claus? Cleo?) settled onto his perch just at her eye-level. "Going, going?" he demanded, "Where? Why? Where?"
"Look, you, I don't have time to wonder whether I'm going crazy, being locked up in this...this...You really do talk, don't you?" The last was whispered appealingly, hopefully.
"I talk, you stay, fat ass-fat ass!" the bird replied.
Cyndi glanced over her shoulder to see the offending portion of her anatomy. At five feet even, one hundred-ten pounds, with long, slightly curled hair waving to her waist, she was hardly what one would consider fat, yet she was extraordinarily sensitive about her bottom, mostly because she feared her numerous beatings may have caused it to swell.
"I'll stay if you stop insulting me," she grumbled.
"Danny-boy, Danny-boy, woof-woof," Claudius informed her. "Eat-up, eat-up"
Cyndi shook her head. "What idiot taught you to speak? Lousy bird, stupid mice...What's next? Tap dancing trees? I am so done here." With that, she started down the path, hoping to find something, anything, that made sense.
The further she moved from the castle, the darker the surrounding forest seemed to become. She tried to convince herself that it was all in her head, but...talking animals...The trees looked as though they were pressing in towards her, attempting to block her passage. Again, she told herself that this was all her imagination; trees couldn't really move, and even if they could, she was so insignificant that they wouldn't are where she went.
A twig snapped behind her, and she whirled, just catching a glimpse of a shadow slipping from the path. Her heart hammering in her chest, she began to walk faster, now hoping to find shelter, perhaps another human being to confirm that she was just imagining things. A low growl came from the surrounding wilderness, and, hugging her arms about her, she ran.
