Thankful Thoughts

Dolores had never had to make a trek quite like this before. Her job as an interplanetary postal worker often had her going to unique places. Some were more hostile than others, but she found that the unassuming places were the ones that drew her curiosity the most. It was odd to see creatures that so clearly lived in a disaster of a world go about their lives without much recourse. As if they were not aware of how miserable they actually were.

Though she supposed she had little business thinking about it quite like that. Normally, she did not think of alien beings as being inherently miserable, as she was aware of the irony of living in a world where the powerful structures in place wanted nothing more than to undo her and all of her kind. Her kind being the Deltudes, a similar creature in theme, but completely different in every other way. In fact, she found it quite charming that she was going to a world where all the people there were made of cloth. Though, these people were full of mist and not [redacted].

This wasn’t her first stop though. No, Dolores had to find somebody first and deliver something to them. And then escort them to another location. Something about a stump and a god. The nonchalant way her supervisor had described the ordeal meant that it was not the typical affair. And had nothing to do with harmonics or humans, or the institutional powers. It was simple. Fun even.

Dolores did not tend to have fun at work.

The portal had sent her to a place called Wind Valley. She was looking for a Scarfox named Anise, description remembered from the briefing before she went. He hadn’t actually ordered anything as far as she was aware, but she was told to go quickly anyway because they had a “very important thing” to take care of and she was going to partake as well. It was a peacekeeping effort, she imagined.

But surely enough, Dolores suited up with a work sanctioned tote bag, a reminder not to let anyone know where she was from, and within seconds she was gone from Anfernin and into the Scarfox Realm. Wind Valley, a sprawling divet between two preposterously high mountains that was blanketed in green and smacked of a dying summer. It was chilly, almost wet, and the sun just barely peeked from behind the mountaintops.

Dolores wasted no time in moving towards her target. She blended in almost seamlessly with the odd fox-like folk that inhabited this world. Her ears were drooping, her lace was unusual, and though she was a master tailor, the height of her kind’s craftsmanship, she was looked at warily. Not because of her odd pointed face and zipper mouth. Not because of the centipede that poked from the zipper when she yawned. But because of the holes in her long sweeping arms.

They were a sign of disease, of malaise. A bad omen.

But she did find her target regardless. A Scarfox like the rest. Long and tall and constructed of a holographic material that shimmered in the setting sun. Dolores immediately took a fancy to it for the quality. The seams were excellent, clearly the mark of a master far above her own level. Perfect in every single way. And perfectly imperfect where it needed to be. Dolores had only ever seen the type of imperfection that came from lack of skill.

This was a treat to behold.

“Staring are we, stranger?”

The Scarfox walked to her, sauntered more like it. Carried himself with all the confidence of a being perfectly within their element. He reminded Dolores of a similar Anfernin creature. Fewer legs, but still as sure. She rifled around in her bag as the fox looked on with mild interest.

Just how did a thing like her end up in a place like this?

“You have mail.” The way she spoke was long and drawn out. She loomed unintentionally with her posture, and she held out the package pinched between her fingers, the parcel almost concealed by the ghostly layers of lace that edged her hand.

Anise was the name of the Scarfox. He took the package without hesitation and ripped it open carelessly without so much as a thank you. Dolores blinked her dot eyes, blue lights absorbed by darkness before returning.

“I knew that if I dabbled in the unknown, I would have something interesting happen,” Anise continued. “Serves me right for looking into it since this place is a snoozefest otherwise. You should have seen the disaster that was the summer event. The sea god went mad all his little pincer beasts starting ruining everything. Hilarious but also sad. None of it stuck around once the oaf woke up.”

None of this made a lick of sense, and yet, Anise was still talking about gods and portals, and occult phonebooks and internet ordering services from beyond the horizon. Her job wasn’t done just yet and Anise was almost waiting for her to ask. Had the smuggest look on his face because he knew better.

He always knew better. It was what made him so cultured in the first place.

“Aren’t you going to ask what was in the box? You’re supposed to ask questions if you want answers.”

Dolores took an absurdly long time to respond, and her hollow sounding voice dragged into the next century. “No. It’s yours.”

“Oh, so you’re no fun at all. It’s what I get for paying premium for professional service, I guess. You really do get what you pay for in this life and every other.”

He procured a box and opened it. Inside was food that was familiar to Dolores and staunchly unfamiliar to Anise. It was a writhing sort of bread like food. Usually it was filled with berries and jam and pieces of meat. It was popular during certain times of the year but only when the harmonics were all sorted out. Otherwise, it was known to be harmful.

“It’s for the Mini God who, funnily enough, refuses to give out their name. Not that I care. I just wanna see the little freak. I hear they’re like one foot tall. Ridiculous.”

There was a stump that Anise took Dolores to. He explained the whole way about how offerings had to be made to gods to get them to come out of hiding. It didn’t always work, especially if the gods were wise to the ways of the so-called “mortal foxes”. It was a hit or a miss most of the time.

Dolores just nodded to everything Anise said because the fox really seemed to like to talk about himself and his adventures. His wisdom and observations. He even seemed eerily close to identifying what Dolores was full of, since she did not sound like she was full of mist.

She had almost attacked him for that. But it would have been rude according to him. And when they made it to a stump covered in fungal growths with a hole in the center, Anise unceremoniously placed the box in the offering tray, calling for the Mini God to show their face. Pull a prank. Do literally anything.

It didn’t work. Anise gave up after an hour, and so did Dolores, as her mission was supposed to be watching the events unfold. However, she noticed that as soon as the two of them looked away, the box was gone - snatched by a tiny little hand - and the Wind Valley filled with the sounds of chimes on the breeze.

“Ha!” Anise said. “I know the little guy wouldn’t be able to resist.”

But Dolores was already gone.