Echoes of Anima

Author's Notes:

Things are getting rough for Wyatt in his hometown of Whicketsham. The welcome he thought he would receive cooled significantly as word about Wyatt's breeder status spread around town. His fridged reunion with his family and those whom he grew up with has seemingly been cut short.

I am living in proof reading hell because I had so much written already that I split up into smallar chapters. I have about through chapter 10 or 11 written and need to spend some time staring at the page

Thanks to my Editor KenjiSato!

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Chapter 7: Sage Advice

Heeding Ol' Joe's advice, Wyatt seized the opportunity and ran. Through the Link, he silently agreed with Requiem to meet at the ranch house. It was counterproductive for the conspicuous Anima to draw attention to him, as he dashed through the market. While a few of the boys took off after him, Joe seemed to have convinced the rest to go about their day.

Wyatt wished he could have given Ol' Joe a proper goodbye and a thank you.

Yelps and screeches from bystanders and Anima clattered down market stalls and alleyways, as Wyatt shoved through.

The pursuit wound chaotically through the small town's maze. It was a vicious race, but Wyatt's former friends were insistent on exacting their revenge.

A few market stalls, positioned awkwardly, provided him with space enough to hide and a moment's respite. He dove in quickly, evading the patron's notice.

Prone, amidst bunches of boxes, chairs, and other assorted goods, Wyatt's chest was heaving. It was not even noon, and he wanted this day to be over. Ironically, the CABRI vitamins were keeping certain parts of him energetic, but not anything that would help him in foot pursuits.

As he caught his breath, he noted what the stall was all about. Still Bloom... a small chain out of Camelot. A few such patrons were rummaging through piles of cute outfits of all manner of colors, while tittering.

"See, this one is super cute." An older girl, probably in her late twenties, held up a blue dress. Her expression soured as she noticed it was a bit saggy at its center.

"Of course, it's cute, it's a maternity dress!" her similarly aged companion lamented.

Both looked rather flustered as they tossed the inventory, the patient merchant smiling as he hurriedly tried to refold the clothes they browsed.

"This...? Oh no! Maternity!"

"Gosh, why is all the good stuff maternity?"

Wyatt noticed that many of the posters for the stall featured pregnant women. While the brand was not specifically maternity-focused, it certainly did push it.

"Right? Everything good is maternity. If only..." the girl, biting her lip and looking fondly at a light blue maternity blouse, huffed.

"Hold on, maybe I have some other things here in the crate." The merchant, a rather flamboyant man, bent down at the knees to reach behind his stall. "Oh! Excuse me!" He fell back on his rear, as Wyatt's hunched form startled him.

His respite was over. Wyatt shot to his feet and looked around to see if his pursuers had noticed.

"Are you Wyatt Daycott?" The girl, clenching a maternity romper, had a gleam in her eyes.

"Uh, yeah... that's right."

Both women looked to each other, and back to Wyatt, over and over. Their excitement was hardly contained as it bubbled to the surface.

"Shhh, shhh, no, not here," Wyatt begged.

But they could not be subdued.

"Wyatt, omgsh please... I need you... Can you please?" They launched into a tsunami of begging that soon turned lecherous, filled with lewd promises and desires.

"I'm a good girl, I can do anything you want." They pined for him, not so subtly, making even the simple textile merchant blush. Wyatt stepped back into the street, head on a swivel as the two ladies grabbed his arms.

"Come back with us. Please!"

"There he is!" Wyatt's senses tingled; the rather unhappy boys had found him, being restrained by unlikely captors.

"Hey, I am sorry, ladies, I've got to go!" He wrestled free.

But neither woman was to be deterred.

The pursuit resembled a comedy. Wyatt dashed past stall and patron, alley and side street as fast as possible, while being chased by a pack of envious boys and a pair of lecherous women. While he felt bad for taking off on the ladies like that, there was no way he wanted them to be collateral damage when his 'friends' found them.

"Eeeeeeyyyah!" From above, a scream of an Ospyris, an Anima replication of an osprey, swooped down and dug its talons into Wyatt's neck. Its sharp claws sank into his flesh while beating the boy with its wings.

"Ah shit, shit, shit!" Wyatt batted at the angry creature.

Requiem was too far away to help; he regretted not capturing another Anima, something smaller when Requiem wasn't practical. As an added peril, he could not slow down, as the boys on his heels would like. He could hear their jeering and snarls as they closed the distance quickly.

CRACK

A stiff whipping caught the Ospyris square between the wings and sent it flying. A massive Verdancia (living-tree Anima) burst into view, its whip-like branches unfurling as it loomed over him, snapping the pursuit short and locking Wyatt's nerves tight.

"Wyatt! Over here, quick!" A calm voice reached out to him amidst his shock and the wiggling vine-arms of the Verdancia.

Clenching his bloody neck and teeth, he did his best to slip down the alleyway as the whip-tree-Anima battered his pursuers. Even the two ladies received a bit of a thrashing, judging by the screams that raked his ears. He felt terrible about it; there would be some collateral damage after all. But with the prospects of what could have happened to him, this might have been the best outcome.

So, who was it who had saved his ass? The alluring voice that called to him felt close and strangely familiar. But as he peered down the alleyway, its origin remained a mystery.

"Mr. Daycott, up here." The more formal callout of his name came with a teasing tone.

Looking upwards, on a set of worn wooden stairs, a woman several years his senior studied him.

"Miss Lena?" Wyatt discerned, squinting upwards despite how it hurt to arch his neck.

"Geez, get up here, let's get you out of the streets before you get cornered... one way or another." She slyly teased him for his fanfare.

With few options and significant curiosity, Wyatt ascended to a small apartment above the local agriculture office. As he was rushed inside, the Veridancia returned to the NEST on Miss Lena's locket. No sooner had Ms Lena hastily slammed the door and bolted an array of locks, then a warm safety fell over Wyatt.

"Thank you, Miss Lena... geez, that was... too close." He huffed and puffed, leaning against her entryway wall, as blood decorated his neck and hand.

"I wouldn't say close... looks like they got ya."

With a swiftly readied wet cloth, she dabbed at Wyatt's wound with a familiar childhood fondness. It had been a long time since Wyatt had spoken to Miss Lena; she used to babysit him and Hannah, while Grandma tended to farm business. Not shy with proximity as she tended his wound, Wyatt noticed how pretty she was--a small detail his childhood self hadn't fully appreciated.

Lena had a youthful face, bountiful lips, a healthy, curved body, and gentle breasts that he dared to steal a glimpse of. It may have been the vitamins talking, but he was starting to feel a certain way with her this close. Her eyes didn't help, looking deeply into his, as she cleaned his wound. Only when she broke away to grab a bandage, did he take a breath and wonder if he needed to moderate his intake of those CABRI pills.

"You look like you are having a rough time since you got home. Please, sit. Are you hungry?"

Miss Lena had a special way of cutting through his underlying tension with her soft voice, his guard relaxing after his intense flight from the envious.

"Oh, I don't want to put you out, Miss Lena." Wyatt shook his head. "It's all good, I'm fine."

Lena walked over with the bandage, carefully reaching around to place it on his nape. Her neck and shoulder were so close to his face. Wyatt felt the alluring warmth of her skin and seductive feminine scent. It was almost unbearably pleasant.

"Stop calling me Miss Lena... It's so weird. You are like an adult now, and I'm only thirty-five; you are making me feel old," she mused, pressing the bandage into place, as Wyatt winced.

Her scent stung his nose in a way that made him tremble. Each time she moved, the air she displaced wafted to him like a cloud of bliss. Guided to the large and fluffy-cushioned sofa, covered in patchwork blankets, amidst oaken furniture, strewn books, and burning incense in her living room, she insisted Wyatt sit.

Slightly embarrassed, as he was a sweaty mess from his morning activities, Wyatt felt out of place in the middle of her living room. It was a quaint little apartment, brightly lit with a 180-degree view of the town center. From her perch, she could easily see the market, no doubt witnessing the crowd that had cornered Wyatt at the Anima Store.

"Lena sounds so weird, though... I've just always called you Miss." Wyatt's hands gripped the bandage.

In a small kitchen off to the side, Lena looked over and shook her head with a wry smile.

"Well... if you had called me anything other than Miss six months ago, I would have had to scold you." The dishes clattered as she spread chicken salad over a slice of bread for Wyatt. "But... now, you are a man, and it feels weird to hear you calling me something like an old person."

It was weird to think of himself as a man in Miss Lena's presence. As she left the kitchen with a plate in one hand and a drink in the other, bound for where he rested on the couch, he wrestled with the chorus of voices in his head. It was hard not to notice how her jeans hugged her thighs, elegantly tapering around her hips and torso. Or how her large breasts swayed as she walked. Beneath her t-shirt, he could only imagine she wore no bra, as her ladies hung low and moved freely.

Instead of setting the plate down, Lena sat close to Wyatt. It was not a large couch, and the cushion's pillowy nature brought her into contact with him. Plate in hand, she smiled and offered her guest a small token of hospitality.

"Eat up. You're going to have a hard time doing your job on an empty stomach."

Wyatt took a bite, still nursing his neck, and averting his eyes from the sight of her more interesting features. It was Miss Lena, after all-- he couldn't think of her like that. All of his efforts were a vain attempt at being discreet.

"So... you've heard."

"The whole town has heard by now."

"Great..."

"You're surprised? Seems like a few were letting you know their feelings."

"Well... yeah... I had a feeling Whicketsham wouldn't be the most welcoming. I didn't intend to stay."

Lena fussed with the bandage on Wyatt's neck as he ate. Faintly, her thumb caressed the back of his neck dotingly. The mere touch of her thumb on his neck sent a surge to his manhood, an electric reaction to a woman Wyatt had known for nearly his whole life.

"You shouldn't have to leave your home a leper." She fussed with his hair, straightening it out.

"Leper?"

"Never mind... It's just not fair to you... But it's expected."

"Expected?"

Lena removed his bloodied bandage, replacing it with another that could stick to his skin 'til he was healed.

"Yes... Do you know the last time a breeder came to Whicketsham?"

"No... not really. Not since my mother's breeder came and conceived Hannah."

"Exactly... eighteen years ago, nearly. Ever wondered why there are so many kids in the same age group here?"

"Oh..." Wyatt felt ashamed, ashamed of who he had become and of what people like him were known for.

Making sure the bandage was secured on his neck, Lena's soft fingers grazed behind his ear, a feeling that made his eyebrow twitch. Lena smiled at the reaction.

"That breeder was cruel... nothing like you, Wyatt. Don't carry the past with you... like Whicketsham."

Wyatt looked at her, eager to know more.

"Don't ask for more details, you don't want to go there."

"Why?"

Lena looked into Wyatt's eyes, her hand falling to his shoulder and squeezing it.

"My mom...?"

Lena nodded.

"Oh..."

"He was cruel... that's part of why your mom... yeah."

Wyatt felt cold, looking down at the floor and wondering just what he had come to be.

"Wyatt.. listen to me, you are not him. Don't carry that..."

"Is that why... my grandmother won't talk to me?" Wyatt looked to Lena for the truth.

She tried to hide her expression, but it was evident that it was the truth.

"Your grandmother took it hard... and so did Whicketsham. They made it known what would happen to breeders who came here, and that's why there are no little ones."

"No babies..."

"No..." There was sadness in Lena's voice, and in Wyatt's heart.

"What do I do? To... get my grandmother to forgive me."

"There is nothing you did wrong, Wyatt... you didn't choose to be what you are. You didn't do that, that breeder did."

"Yeah... I guess..."

Grabbing his face, Lena pulled him in her direction, looking intently in his eyes.

"Don't ever apologize for something you never did. Not even to your grandmother... and especially not to this town. You have every right to be here, and every right for this to be your home."

"Okay..." Wyatt tried to hold it all in, but Lena could tell he was at a breaking point. Pulling his head down, she rested it in her lap, petting his head until he faded into a restorative nap.