"Damn' he says," said Mizzigig.
"Anyone can make a mistake!" protested Kitta.
"There's mistakes and mistakes, Fox," said Valendrin, "This mistake's of the latter variety."
"I'll expand on Valendrin's earlier conjecture and further theorise that the cold has frozen your head into a block as solid and transparent as ice," said Mizzigig. "In the midst of the most harrowing Winter the world has ever known, during which all and sundry scurry about in search of the merest scraps of nourishment, we are now doomed to seek out an angry supernatural being with the aim of improving its mastication. Our prospects seem poor."
"Oh, blame me, why don't you?" said Fox.
"We will, consistently," answered Valendrin, "and justifiably, seeing as how it's all your fault."
"Well, if you two hadn't been squabbling with silly fibs about beaks and mice none of us would be in this pickle, would we?" said Fox. "It'll teach you to be more truthful in future."
"There's no use in our perpetuating a three-way spat," said Mizzigig. "I reiterate the Stag's query: What is to be done?"
"Don't look at ME," said Kitta, "I don't know any dragons."
"None of us do!" said Valendrin.
"Bother and vexation!" said Kitta. "Well, there must be someone around here who does know a dragon or two. They aren't THAT rare."
Mizzigig sat down and half-closed his eyes. "That's an impressive assumption. I'm quite sure I've never met a single soul whose path has crossed with that of a dragon. I know of none who have even seen one."
"Quite so," said Valendrin. "I'd say more - that I've never met anyone who knows anyone who's ever had any kind of encounter with a dragon."
"Well so much for our networking skills," said Fox, "Let's leave that depressing thought experiment where it is and concentrate on what we can do..."
"Such as?" muttered Valendrin.
"Wellll, what do we have?" said Kitta. "My cunning, Cat's courtesy and common sense and your...er... actually, I can't think of anything."
"I wouldn't expect you to" snorted Valendrin. "Thought's not your strong point currently. Nor typically, if accuracy's wanted.”
"We have the tooth," pointed out Mizzigig.
"As if we needed reminding!" said Kitta.
"Bear with me, you pair. The source of our trouble may point at its solution. Dragons are known for their high magic, well, why not their teeth?"
"We'll be well-versed in the knowing of dragons for sake of their teeth in due course, Cat, if Ulkerek's got a shred of integrity," said Valendrin.
"You misunderstand me, Wolf. What I mean *is* - will the tooth, being demonstrably magical by virtue of its rather sickly luminosity, not harbour some desires of its own? If the dragon seeks the tooth, might not the tooth, in some hitherto imperceptible way, seek the dragon?"
This was an interesting thought and Fox and Wolf gave it some consideration.
"Such an aetheric connection is not without precedent," mused Valendrin, darkly.
"Wouldn't it be doing something about it if it wanted to get back in the dragon's jaws?" said Kitta. "It's just sitting there. Leering at us."
"Naturally," said Mizzigig, "As it lacks any autonomous system of propulsion. Perhaps it requires the cooperation of beings blessed with ambulatory appendages." He licked his paw and eyed the tooth quizzically. "I have felt somewhat that it seemed to call me here..."
This was also an interesting thought but for different reasons and Fox and Wolf gave it considerably more consideration than the first.
"What an entirely hideous idea," said Kitta.
"A creepy notion, enough!" agreed Valendrin. "If it's up for playing weird games with my head, I'm off."
"Thus missing your kill every Winter hereafter," said Mizzigig. "I think not, Mr Wolf."
"It's besides the point, anyway,” said Kitta. “It wants to go home, you say, well, I call that a fanciful conjecture. It's a tooth. Even if such nonsense were true, how on Earth could we confirm it?"
"None of us have touched it," said Mizzigig.
All three looked at each other, realising that this was perfectly true.
"You going first, then?" asked Valendrin.
"Not I!" said Cat. "I have a delicate nose."
"And I have sensitive ears! If it starts babbling ghoulish things audible only to me I shall be most upset," said Kitta "I've no intention of going bonkers."
"Huh. Falls to me then, does it?" Valendrin grinned a wolfish grin. "There we are, then. Wouldn't be the first time I've met with success where a more feminine predator's failed..."
"Hmf!" said Mizzigig and Kitta wrinkled his nose, but neither contradicted him for fear of landing the job themselves.
Valendrin peered closely at the dragon's tooth and, hesitantly, gave it a tiny lick.
"Ow!" he said, sitting bolt upright and sneezing. "Wow."
"Well?" demanded Kitta.
"How does it taste?" asked Mizzigig.
"Salt and pepper and blood and iron and dreams and nightmares and snot and dirt and fear and fury all at once," he said. "My tongue's all tingly still, like I caught it in a trap. Oo, 'eck," he continued, swaying a little, "I'm going to have to lie down for a bit..." he slid slowly to the ground and waved his legs in the air. "oowwwoooWow. I feel funny..."
Kitta barked impatiently. "How are we going to carry the thing anywhere if it renders us insensible?"
"With due care and attention," said Mizzigig. "Valendrin. Any insights?"
"I've a notion... a feeble sort of notion that if we chuck it in the air and watch where and how it lands it might point itself at something useful. Thassa guess. It's aware of its situation, alright, it's stuffed me bonce full of pictures..."
"Pictures, how perfectly charming. Of what?" said Mizzigig.
"Itself, mostly, helping other teeth in the business of chewing things," said Valendrin. "It's not an attractive sight, I can tell you. It's surpassingly keen on returning to the chomping of delicacies, hungering particularly for the hearts of its owner's long-standing foes... Gaaaah! Ugh...."
"Hold fast, all!" said Kitta, "and tell me what THAT is?" he pointed at the tooth, which was changing. It's light was dimming and a faintly discernible and ugly looking figure was appearing on the surface of the tooth, a jagged pattern of grooves scrawled on it with something deeply incisive, looking like something half-way between a picture and a word.
Whatever it was, it didn't look at all friendly.
"Well, well..." said Mizzigig. "No prizes for guessing ..."
"The tooth's name," said Kitta. "I agree. But what is the name? Can you read this script?"
"No, nor should I wish such knowledge thrust upon me. It looks... unpleasant."
"Lessee," said Wolf, scrambling back onto all fours. "Wurr. Yer not joking."
"One can only suppose that the dragon constructed that... diagram with it's claw..." said Mizzigig.
"Ridiculous!" said Kitta. “Who in all the Wild has claws strong enough to scratch marks on their own teeth?”
"How else, then?" asked Mizzigig.
This was also an interesting thought, this time for thoroughly disturbing reasons, and Fox and Wolf's resultant considerations were considerably more considerable.
"Well?" said Kitta, coughing and rousing himself. "Isn't one of us going to do the throwing thing?"
"I see nothing holding you back, Kitta," said Valendrin. "I touched it once and that's plenty."
"With MY easily bruised paws?" said Fox. "You jest, and in poor taste at that. Mizzigig, you are adept at the tossing of fish directly from the stream, show off for us, why don't you, there's a good chap, hm?”
"I could give it a try..." pondered Mizzigig.
He looked the tooth up and down and paced around it and then crouched and pounced. He flipped the tooth over his shoulder. "YeeeeOOOW!!!" he screeched directly after this and waved his paw in the air. "It's hot!"
"Never mind that!" shouted Kitta. "Watch where it falls!"
The tooth spun in the air and landed splat in the snow some paces away. It was pointing Due North.
"Pff!" said Mizzigig, still waving his paw. "Aach! I shan't be eager to do THAT again...why didn't you tell me it was hot, you stupid Wolf?"
“It wasn't,” said Valendrin. “It probably doesn't like you. Which would indicate good sense.”
They gathered round the tooth.
"What lives over there?" said Valendrin. "My sense of direction's all woozly now from tasting the spite of that thing."
"Marshes and ponds and lakes as far as the eye can see," said Mizzigig. "Almost deserted, that bleak waste..."
"Skilende the Heron," said Kitta, after lining up his sight along the tooth. "The horrid thing's indicating that we should seek out his nest. It's pointing at him directly, I'm positive of it."
"That miserable git?" said Valendrin. "Is that where he lives? As if things weren't bad enough!"
"Enduring his sour nature will take our minds off other things," said Mizzigig, licking his injured paw. "Kitta, pick up the tooth."
"What? Why me?"
"Because Valendrin's tasted it and I've tossed it. It's your turn.”
“How can you possibly expect me to carry that monstrous piece of junk? What a cheek! Somebody else's rotten, discarded TOOTH? Euur!” said Kitta, with a reproachful sneer.
“How thoughtless of me,” said Mizzigig. “Your tender sophistication, of course, clearly precludes any functional involvement in our shared predicament whatsoever. Do excuse my memory, it had placed you among those rejoicing in ordinary competence.”
“The height of your verbosity is exceeded only by that of your delicate nose, Mizzigig,” retorted Kitta. “I await your loquacious and inspirational guidance on the transport of sinister commodities known to provoke malignant symptoms on bodily contact with earnest ears.”
“Use your magic,” said Mizzigig. “Place it in the heart of your fox-fire, which I see is hiding in your tail, as usual. If the tooth gets hot, the fire won't notice, and if it get's irritable and wants to gossip, well, the fire can listen."
“What!?” said Kitta.
“Why not?” asked Mizzigig.
“It'll tire me out! Magic doesn't come for free! And why should my poor little fox-fire be the recipient of its nasty confidences? My fire has feelings too, you know!”
“That's a shame, Fox,” said Wolf. “Perhaps my tongue can lick it better.”
“When wolf's tongue tires of its labours,” said Cat, “I could caress it, lovingly, with my paw.”
"I wouldn't touch the horrible thing if my life depended on it!" said Kitta.
"It does, actually," said Valendrin, "Moreover, its your fault that it does. Accommodate your burden cheerfully, Kitta, or both Ziggy and myself will have to attempt the cure of Ulkerek's curse by ourselves and our first kill could well be a very rewarding joint effort on a slightly-built clever sort of fellow standing not a million paces from here."
Kitta looked back and forth, from Wolf to Cat. Wolf watched him with pale antipathy and Mizzigig's golden eyes were implacable.
"There's no need to put it like that," said Kitta. "I was going to pick it up anyway. I just wanted to test your resolve."
With this complete lie he poked his nose under the tooth so a little snow was between them and, muttering a tiny magic spell, he flipped it up and over his back, where it landed neatly, balanced in his tail, bathed in the intricate flames of his fox-fire.
"There," he said. "That should keep it happy."
