Little Fang

By James Milne

A human in the wastelands is saved by a ratgirl.

From the world of "Toofy" comes a short story about the rattan, their culture, and the lives of those outside the empire, in the endless wastes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: James Milne
• Release date: Oct 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463173947

Book preview

Little Fang

James Milne.

Little Fang

A human in the wastelands is saved by a ratgirl.

A human in the wastelands is saved by a ratgirl. Copyright © 2021 James Milne.

All Rights Reserved.

Little Fang

The pitter patter knocking out the rhythm above Cohen’s head is relaxing, reminding him of so many summers spent waiting for the eventual relief of the brief storms.

It would be pleasant to lie here and reminisce, but that seems like a bad idea. Considering he was bleeding out.

There isn’t much in the remnants of the old tin shed, one of the only structures still standing on the farm.

A mouldy apple. It’s really gross. And he had no idea how to turn mould that might be penicillin into actual medicine.

Now seems like a bad time to try to learn.

There was also a dead rat the size of a cat. The only surprising part of this is that he managed to actually kill the damn thing with his bare hands before it killed him.

Well... Killed him all at once.

The torn remnants of his shirt. Considering what the rat did, it isn’t surprising it was torn up.

It seems like a bad idea, what with the bacteria that rats carry, but wrapping it around his wound from the bite on his side seemed to be the only immediate choice to make.

Cohen wrapped it as tightly as he could. However... He was still bleeding. It’s still raining. The rat is still dead.

He passed out.

— — —

Wake up!

The voice was crazy loud, enough that Cohen was dragged back to reality, kicking and screaming. Cracking open an eye, he saw something that could not possibly account for the insane volume of the voice.

A small, probably growth-stunted, young girl. At least... She looks almost like a girl.

Her bare arms outside her sleeveless shirt are covered in red fur, the same colour as her hair. He couldn’t see her ears, the easiest way to tell if what kind of exotic she was.

Exotic. The term was used by humans to describe all the sentient, or near-sentient species that should probably be considered equals, but are mostly looked down on. Pretending that they were some kind of oddity, when humans might be dominant and dominating, but were outnumbered ten to one by the other races.

She was young, but not that young. Not a juvenile, but at an age and with a face that meant you couldn’t guess if they were two or three decades old. Somewhere in that range.

Glancing at his side he saw that his shirt was gone, and replaced by a proper bandage.

Cohen groaned, Did... Did you save me?

Mmm.

Well, that was extraordinarily descriptive.

She stared at him for a little while, and then sat down, a skin-coloured tail curling out from the bottom of her shirt to go around her feet and hands. She smiled at him, Ratata.

Cohen nodded slowly, Do... You have a name?

Maly Kiel. She said happily, before sniffing the air. Her pink eyes narrowed and she let out a low growl as she looked outside the tin building.

Her name sounded like a cute thing on the surface. Except it