Bambi and the Horrible Appendages

 “So, Ann, why do you have a dragon?” I didn’t even have to correct myself.

“The accursed thing chased me all over town and forced me to learn to walk on these awful, mismatched limbs by trial-and-error within less than two minutes of my untimely arrival!” Ann fumes.

“Oh, so that’s why you were so grumpy when you got here!” Fawn beams.

“Shut up.”

“You were really grumpy though,” I bop her nose.

“Aaahhugh!” the table jumps and Ann tips her entire chair over. The cat, which has been sitting on her lap the whole time, lands neatly on the floor beside her. Ann isn’t as lucky. Her legs are sticking straight up into the air, and she’s flailing around and wailing, “This isn’t fair! My instincts are clashing with this awful excuse of a body!”

“Stop flailing like a toddler and use your hands to push yourself up!” I sigh.

“How? How do they work? It’s not fair!” Her next kick overturns the table.

“Please stop trashing my kitchen!” Miss Fae yells.

“I want to go home,” Ann moans. “My head feels way too light without my antlers! And- my hind legs are twice as long as my front legs! And when I try to walk it makes my BACK hurt!”

“I can help!” Fawn yells. She yanks Ann to her feet, causing them both to crash backwards into the wall.

“Aeurgh!” Ann shrieks. She kicks out again, almost sending the cat- erm, dragon- flying like a soccer ball.

“Why don’t you just calm down and try slowly, Bambi?”

“What is a bambi?”

“Nothing.” I shrug.

“Slowly. Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I- how do I use my hands?”

“OMG you took my advice!” I tease.

“Sh-shut up! I’m just- just graciously listening to you a-and- trying to adjust!” She glares at me.

“I adjusted within five minutes,” I scoff. A slight over-exaggeration but that doesn't really matter.

“Human anatomy is similar to an elf! This skeletal structure is completely foreign to me!” Ann screeches. So much for calming down. But I guess I was provoking her.

“Okay, just try!” Fawn orders helpfully.

“Excellent advice, Fawn,” I deadpan.

“Yay!” she cheers. “You can do it, Ann!”

Ann is staring at her hands with a look of unadulterated horror. But her fingers are twitching in a way that tells me she’s trying to use them. Or maybe it’s just more of her ‘horrible appendages’.

“I feel like little parasites have protruded from my hooves,” she wails.

“Fingers are very convenient,” Fawn informs her. “They let you eat buns!” She’s licking sticky residue from the last of the sunberry buns, which she singlehandedly finished, off her fingers.

“Those things- buns- look- unnatural and- chewy and- and- and- ugh!” Ann kicks at the ground. “I just want to eat grass and go back to sleep.”

“Is it true that birch deer spend most of their time sleeping and they spend their time awake fighting each other for territory, like in the fairy tales?” Fawn asks innocently, as if the question has just popped into her mind like a lightbulb.

“I’m not a fairy tale,” Ann fumes tearfully. “If anything, elves are fairy tales. But I’m an elf and you’re elves so I suppose we can assume fairy tales mean nothing in this place?”

“That’s a good point,” I mutter. “To sum up my day, I went to sleep, woke up in Summer Falls, realized I was magically turned into an elf, and got dragged around town by this gremlin and almost eaten by a peacock-squirrel.”

“Eaten by what?” Fawn wondered. “When did that happen?”

“I meant a bird-of-paradise,” I mumble.

“Oh right! That!” Fawn beams.

“I haven’t even been here for half an hour and I’ve already been chased by an apex predator,” Ann mourns, halfheartedly kicking at the ‘apex predator’ curled purring under her chair. “With mismatched legs and no antlers and I have fingers.”

“That’s an apex predator?” I wonder. “Not really.”

“I’m not even allowed the liberty of being dramatic about it,” Ann mutters under her breath.

“So you admit to your dramatic-ness!” I shout, pointing an accusatory finger at her.

“I don’t even understand this anymore!” Miss Fae cries to the heavens, maybe to the god of sunberry buns. If I’m being honest I had forgotten she was there, mostly because the sound of her baking is just background noise. “I have customers! I need to focus!” She’s been alternating rushing to the counter and baking. I wonder if that’s always how she does things.

“That’s okay,” Fawn mumbles, finishing licking her fingers. “I think. Am I supposed to be understanding? Am I the only one?”

“Something is transporting us to this world!” Ann yells, outraged. “Maybe even other worlds! Maybe the purple elf girl will go to sleep and suddenly vanish into another world!” She points at Fawn.

“Huh?” Fawn blinks, her eyes blank and clear of all worries.

“Anthe, Sophia, please stop yelling!” Miss Fae begs.

“Someone is finally calling me by my name!” Ann wails.

“That’s my line!” I fume. “What’s with elves and giving people weird nicknames?” Well, it’s mostly Fawn with the weird nicknames.

“Finally, something we can agree on!” Ann practically sobs, flopping backward onto the floor again. “Why is it so hard to move without tipping backwards?” she screams. “My- my center of gravity is ruined! Where is it? Why are elves so tall? Is being a human like this too?”

“I haven’t actually noticed any differences,” I muse.

“Lucky you!” Ann screams.

“We should go cuddle baby dragons!” Fawn shrieks at the ceiling.

“NO!” Ann shrieks, ignoring the ‘dragon’ rubbing its nose against her leg. She’s lying spread eagled on the floor, staring at the ceiling, having clearly given up on ever learning to use her newfound limbs.

“Anthe, you can stay here,” Miss Fae says commandingly. “Sophia, Fawn, just- go do whatever teenaged elves do in their free time. I’ll manage our fantasy deer.”

Ann made a weird sound. The best way to describe it is- I think she was trying to bleat.