The Skinner Co. Network
FPGE3 - Same Time Next Year: a Sour Thistle Tale
Tonight we encounter a holiday scene of friendship and ancient considerations.
Part 1 of 1
Many thanks to David "Doc Blue" Wendt!
(upbeat music) - Welcome to Flashpulp, guest episode three. This evening we present same time next year, a sour thistle tale by David Duck Blue Went. This episode is brought to you by Angry Robot Books Word Builder, a collaborative project between the author of a novel, a publisher, and fan creators. Find out more at wordbuilderonline.com. (upbeat music) Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to 10 minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight we encounter a holiday scene of friendship and ancient considerations. Same time next year, a sour thistle tale written by David Duck Blue Went, art and narration by Opoponix, an audio produced by Jessica May. (upbeat music) Three long time companions sat atop a hill, watching the sun slowly set over the pine trees. Everything around them glistened with the weight of December snow. Thank you both for coming. The great stag, night thunder, did not look at either of his guests while he spoke. It gets harder every source this to find the meeting place, grumbled the white bear. He sat upright and gestured with a four-paw at the scenery. With each passing cycle, the pig eaters corrupt more of the land. Surely it is well past time to call the herd. The lady of the woods cast a sidelong glance at the hulking albino. They're not all bad. Some remember the old ways. What about Blackhall? Her companion growled, do not mention that name to me. Fine, bad example, Sarathistle shrugged. And what about the young shaman, Coffin? The snowy beast nodded thoughtfully. I have no quarrel with him, I suppose. He peered out over the wintery vegetation. Ah, yes, Coffin. The ancient bull tossed his head gently. The light of the setting sun reflected off the sharpened tips of his antlers, causing flex of light to dance on the snow. How many of the relics does he have? The Wolverine considered. 12, wait, I may be wrong. I suppose it must be 13 by now. The shaggy albino Ursine grunted. Does he understand their true importance? Mm, he's clever for a man, so I believe he must know deep down somewhere. But no, I don't think he really understands. Not yet. A pity, the bear laughed roughly. Or maybe not, it could be just the thing to deal with this infestation of two legs. Sarathistle grunted, a night thunder looked at the bear lord. This is not why we are here. For a moment, the great white beast met the bull's gaze defiantly, but then glanced away. "As you wish," he grumbled. All three fell into a comfortable silence. It was the stillness of three time-worn veterans, of the few remaining who remembered a simpler time when all creatures knew their place. While they sat, the sun finally slipped behind the horizon, the reds and oranges of the evening sky giving way to the purples and blacks of night. The trio peered quietly into the heavens as the stars began to twinkle. I suppose it's time then. Night thunder took a step and pawed at the snow as if testing it. "Why do you make this journey every year?" the albino asked. "I have my nature, my hoary friend. Just as you do. Just as our dear lady Sarathistle does." "He makes the trip because he must," agreed the Wolverine. "I do not see the point. Why should you continue this custom? The peek-eaters have forgotten the traditional vase." "That is of no matter." The great stag leapt forward and upward, more gracefully than one would expect from such a massive beast. Without pause he began to run, each stride taking him higher into the air. Faster and faster he moved until his dark flank was indistinguishable against the night sky. The remaining pair sat a bit longer, watching the stories of the past play out in the patterns of the stars. Finally, the shaggy white giant spoke once more. "I should go as well. It is far to my home." The bear shifted on to his haunches. "Be safe, Sarathistle." "Same time next year." "Be next, and be next after that." "Until Carvik comes." FlashPulp is presented by FlashPulp.com and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. Text and audio commentaries can be sent to skater at skinner.fm or the voicemail line at 206-338-2792. But be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast. We'd also like to thank the free sound project found at freesound.org. For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com. And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends. (lively music) ♪ Sunday is gloomy, my hours are stumbled ♪ ♪ Here is the shadows I live with are stumbled ♪ (lively music) (upbeat music)