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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 82: Slade 278
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Cooper 99
Slade’s first thought was that a wooly mammoth would be a formidable opponent. But then, what reason would there be to fight such a thing? Of course, they will need food, but usually Shella can conjure that, and shelter, but he wasn’t quite sure he could create a house out of the body of an elephant. Picking a fight with a creature that size was probably not a good idea, as his recent fight with the giant hyena suggested. He had, of course, won that fight, but it was a tough one.
His second thought was, how big is it? He could see the small spots that marked the herd of fewer than a dozen, but could not make out the distance and thus had no idea of the size. The one on which he had focused filled the mirror, but that didn’t tell him much. After all, a large dog would fill the entire view of the mirror with its face, if he viewed it from close enough. It was called mammoth, but how big was that? Was it the size of an elephant? Was it bigger? He had seen elephants in the circus as a boy, and once or twice visiting the Philadelphia Zoo, but he’d never been up close and personal with them. But that didn’t really help, if he didn’t know how big these actually were.
It then struck him that if they really were wooly mammoths, this was an ice age. He had never been into science, but his memories suggested that the ice age was a time of saber-toothed tigers and neanderthal men. He thought neanderthals were brutish strong hunters, but their most advanced weapons were wooden clubs--and it didn’t really look like there was much wood around here.
Still, there must be something, some kind of plant life. Those furry elephants had to eat something.
It struck him that they might be looking to eat something like him. Well, they would be disappointed if they tried, and maybe that would be the reason for him to fight them. Odin was constantly giving him tough opponents. Maybe this one was next on the list--or maybe it would be that legendary saber-toothed tiger, or some other powerful predator of the ice age.
In any case, the herd was not approaching. That is, they were moving, and they were probably getting closer, but they weren’t coming directly toward him and they didn’t seem to be in any hurry. He cast the spell again--this time it took two tries, but he got it without a botch. He still couldn’t tell how big they were, but he could at least observe what they were doing.
It took him a moment to figure it out. Using their massive tusks they were pushing the snow aside and clearing the tall grass beneath. How there could be anything growing under the snow he could not fathom, but it must be that sometimes the sun got to the tops of the plants. Once these plants were uncovered, the massive beasts ripped them up with their trunks and put them in their mouths.
Herbivores. They were grazing. Not much danger there, he supposed.
He settled back on his backpack, absently tucking the mirror in a pocket, and looking around to see whether there were any other changes. It was going to be a dull day.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
