So during last night’s desperate attempt to catch up with my NaNo word count, @kseniaanske decided it would be fun to do a ferret sprint.
As I love me some furry little critters, I couldn’t resist the challenge.
A gets full credit for this bit, because he suggested it!
Here’s mine now, just because the whole thing amuses the pants off me. Enjoy!
Meg had been in school now for about three months. She felt like she was really getting the hang of this whole magic thing. Flying had been scary as hell, but thrilling all at the same time and once she’d gained a bit of confidence, Dana’d had to threaten her with no flying for a month to get her to land.
Today was her first lesson in conjuring. She’d been up most of the night with these grand ideas of floating sugar castles and whirling ice storms. Did she have any real idea what conjuring involved? Absolutely not.
Dana walked into the work room with a particularly smug look on her face. Prickles of worry started to gnaw away at Meg’s excitement. Sure, it had only been a few months, but she’d already learned to be wary of that look.
“So. Are you ready to learn conjuration?” Dana practically purred.
Aw hell. This was gonna be bad. But there was no way she was backing down now. So Meg nodded. How bad could it be, really?
“That’s the spirit. How familiar are you with ferrets?” Dana perched on a stool, looking not unlike a pixie bent on destruction.
“I know of them. Mom always said no, because they were ‘wily little creeps’ and there was no way she was letting them into her house. Something about chewing.”
“She’s not wrong. They’re from the weasel family and they also have scent glands, like skunks.”
“Okay, wily, chewy, stinky. Got it. So what do ferrets have to do with conjuration?” Meg’s impatience was growing. She was tired of talking. She wanted to do. Was this a glaring Achilles heel that Dana was going to exploit? You’re darn skippy it was.
Dana smiled a slow, toothy smile.
Meg paled, her freckles jumping off her face as it turned papery. Patience, she berated herself. How many times over the last few months had Dana nailed her for lacking patience? Her eyebrows had only just grown back from the last lesson.
“Conjuration isn’t too hard, dear. You’re really just bringing something to you from somewhere else. It works similarly to the fetching charm that you learned your first month here.”
That didn’t sound too bad…
“In this case though, you’re going to picture ferrets in your mind and will them into the cage on the table.” Dana demonstrated. “You see how easy it is?”
“Totally. I’ve got this.” Meg concentrated on the ferret in the cage. She closed her eyes and saw another appear right next to it. There was a soft pop, like a bubble. Meg smiled. Nailed it!
She opened her eyes and looked in triumph on the two ferrets in the cage.
Pop! Pop, pop, pop.
Ferrets started popping up all over the workroom. Furry, squirming bodies covered the floor and every available surface. They crawled over her lap, around her shoulders, nestling in her hair, and nuzzling her ears.
Oh gods. What had gone wrong?
Meg turned to Dana, only to see her teacher doubled over with tears streaming down her face. Also, curiously free of ferrets.
“Did I not mention that you have to be very specific about quantity and when to stop delivering the objects that you conjure? It must be an age thing. The memory is the first to go and all that.” Dana clung to the table, gasping for breath.
“Funny. Hysterical even. Are you done yet?” Meg was starting to panic. These things were multiplying like tribbles.
Dana gave one last whoop of laughter and waved the ferrets away.