Gharibuu’s Journey
Your challenge if you choose to
accept it.
4000 words, a story about a lost Hippo and his meeting with a
Griffin or Unicorn. Must be done before Monday :) What happens in
entirely up to you, whether the Hippo falls madly in love with
the unicorn and they live happily ever after. Or Death and
carnage from bloods and guts of the hippo over the forest floor
as the griffin took a dislike to the fat round beast and ate
him.
The light shone down through the forest canopy, spreading in beams on the earth below. As the hippopotamus shuffled along the spongy ground his heavy footsteps were muffled by the leaves and twigs. As he inhaled deeply, many new scents filled his nose. What a wonderful new place this was, filled with unknown sights, sounds and smells, his senses were spoiled. This was very unlike the place Gharibuu had originally come from.
It was a flat, grassy place that was warm and smelled like hot spices. He used to wallow in the cool, russet mud and bathe in the crystal rivers with his family. Oh how he missed his home and his pod. A human with dark skin, rapped in rags had stolen him away from them. One day when the sun was high in the sky and the others wallowed far to the west of the river, he had strolled into the grassy plains to lay under the shade of the palm. The stranger had bundled him into a cart and rapped him in blankets so he couldn’t see. He had called out to his mother but they were too far away to help him.
So that’s where his new journey had begun. He stayed, cramped in this cart, covered by dirty blankets for weeks, hearing the voices of the men but nothing else. His skin was cracked and sore and he was left hungry. He cried for his lost family and his home, he was scared of these humans. His missed his beautiful home and longed to wade in the cool lake again. They smelled of oil and tobacco and would shout and swear at each other, squabbling over there latest finds. It seemed as though they were gathering things to take somewhere. Maybe that’s where he was going too, or maybe they would just leave him to die.
One morning, the cart began to move again in the usual routine after their night in camp. The sunlight felt warm on Gharibuu’s back and his sore skin ached under the blankets. He could feel the sticky warmth of blood on his knees from the sores that wept underneath him. For weeks he had not left the splintered wooden cart and he had occasionally been fed some scraps of mouldy bread. His stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of the sweet grasses that edged the river. The cart wobbled unsteadily and Gharibuu rolled heavily onto his side.
A sudden beam of light reached his eyes, making him blink blearily and he noticed a moth eaten hole in the dirty rags that wrapped him. He held an eye closely to the whole and tried to focus on his surroundings. He could see a long dirt road that they were following, leading uphill to some unknown place. He lifted his head and then the dirty wooden sign came into view, carved with markings he had not seen before. It read ‘Ravenholt City ½ mile’, but of course poor little Gharibuu did not understand its meaning.
Before long his little cart came to a halt and he could hear the cracked voices of the men shouting to each other. Gharibuu heard them speaking to a new man with a softer voice.
“We are carrying goods to trade at the market, just fish and foods”. One of his men called Jihab croaked.
“Where do you travel from, the south? Do you carry smeesha herbs for trade?” he demanded.
“No Sir, we carry no illegal trading goods! Just fresh foods for the market” he replied anxiously.
“Very well, you may enter, but beware, any illegal trade is punishable by death by order of the King! RAISE THE GATE!” he bellowed.
The cart began to move again and Gharibuu shifted anxiously, trying to keep his eye to the hole. As he looked he could see the large arch of the gates behind them, the wooden door creaking shut, flanked by men dressed in metal that shone brightly. Suddenly he was surrounded by the bustle of hundreds of pairs of feet and the loud chatter of many voices. He could hear voices shouting loudly into the crowds, trying to carrying their voices over the loud chatter and shouting of others. A loud shout met his ears as he passed a wooden stall.
“Fish! Fresh Fish! Just caught this morning! 10 copper!” a deep voice bellowed.
As he looked through his spy hole he could see a fat, dirty looking man holding two large, dead fish in his hands, showing them off to the passing shoppers. He could smell the heavy scents of the different produce mingling with the foul stench of smoke in his nostrils. This place was very different to home. It was so busy and harsh, everything moved so quickly and loudly here. Gone were the rich, grassy planes and instead he saw an angular world of grey stone. Gharibuu sighed deeply to himself as a single tear escaped his beetle-black eyes and rolled down his leathery skin.
The cart bobbed and weaved in between the crowds and other carts. He saw a little wooden cart pass closely to his, stacked high with wooden crates. On top on the wooden crates sat a dozen wicker cages, all carrying beautifully coloured little birds. They chirped franticly and beat their wings against the cages that held them. Gharibuu felt sorry for the poor little birds trapped in their wooden prisons, just like him. He remembered bleakly how the birds of his home had soared high and free in the clear blue sky. He thought fondly of how they often came to sit on his back as he lay wallowing in the mud on hot days. He chuckled to himself as he recalled how their tiny feet would tickle him as they scurried back and forth.
Suddenly the cart lurched as it swerved to avoid something ahead, followed by a resounding thud. Gharibuu shuddered as the impact vibrated through him. He could hear the angry voices of the men around him.
“Why don’t you watch where you are going, huh? We have delicate cargo here! If you damage our goods you will pay for them!” Jihab screeched in anger.
“Yeah, yeah. You bloody travellers are all the same, why don’t you sod off back home?!” the stranger shouted back.
Continuing their journey, they turned a corner quickly down a quieter road. They began to slow as the din of the crowd became a quiet buzz. As they past more wooden stalls Gharibuu could see dark skinned men surrounded by sacks of grains and spices, shrouded in dirty rags. Lifting his nose he was delighted by the scents that greeted him. He closed his eyes and was back in the cool, thick mud at the edge of the river bank. He could smell the sweet spices that travelled across the plains upon the swirling air in the shimmering heat. He sucked at the cold air greedily, in this grey place, clinging to his memories of home.
They slowed to a halt as the men began chattering quietly amongst themselves. He could see through the window of some small house. There were many people sat inside around little wooden tables, drinking deeply from metal cups and laughing raucously. It looked dank and grubby inside and was lit by stubby melted candles dotted around the wooden walls. He saw Jihab enter the room and sit at a table next to a pale faced man.
He was older than the others with tufts of grey matted hair sticking out from under his cap. When he smiled Gharibuu saw he was missing several teeth and the rest were yellowed and rotting. He stood up and shook Jihab’s hand, patting him firmly on the shoulder with the other, smiling his toothless grin. He handed him the contents of a worn pouch he pulled from his pocket before walking towards the door.
“Pleasure doing business with ya gentlemen!” he croaked.
Gharibuu could smell his stench on the breeze as the wind swirled around him. He smelled stale and damp with hint of sweat and fish. He crinkled his large nose back in disgust. He could smell a strange smoke waft over him as the stranger lit his pipe and exhaled loudly.
He lowered his voice as he spoke again. “Ahh... thanks for the smeesha too, I was starting to run low.” He chuckled deeply and the others laughed along with him.
Before he knew it he was moving once more but as he went he saw Jihab and the other dark skinned men walking away behind the cart. He was being taken by the old, pale faced man. Gharibuu shifted anxiously in his prison, his sores making him wince. They turned again into a small ally lined with little houses, it was quieter here but smoke puffed from the chimneys and made him cough. They reached the end of this ally and he saw a larger house on the corner surrounded by a fence with a large pen to the left. It was filled with straw and little pink creatures routing around in the mud.
He could see a smaller gate to the north of the house, leading out of the city, flanked again my men in metal clothing. Before the gate was a large bridge and with a burst of joy Gharibuu realised he could hear the sound of rushing water, just like a river.
“Well let’s see him then Jim! We’re all dying to see this magnificent creature you keep banging on about” She cackled loudly.
“Now, now Vivienne, if you want to see it, you’ll have to wait until tomorrow and pay like everyone else!” he replied to the waiting crowd.
As the cart turned he saw a plump woman stood near a group of people with her hands on her hips. She wore a frilly green dress and had a tatty shawl draped across her shoulders. Her hair was drawn up into a dirty cloth cap and frizzy ginger curls framed her rouged face. Her haggard face crinkled as she scowled in the man’s direction.
“Yeah, yeah we’ll see Jim!” Vivienne turned to grin at the people behind and as she laughed they began to laugh along with her.
His view darkened as the cart bumped over the doorway of the man’s house and he was dragged into his living room.
“Now, let’s see what we have here then!” he said excitedly, rubbing his hands together.
Gharibuu could feel the warmth of a fire at his side and then two hands grabbing at his soiled blankets. They were lifted from his head and heaved from his tangled body. He blinked blearily as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings even the dingy light of the house was too bright for his tired eyes.
“Well I never.... Agnes! Get and see this!” Jim shouted his ugly face pressed closely to Gharibuu’s.
“I am washing Mrs. Stone’s gowns Jim, what do you....” her voice trailed off as her eyes focused on the cart in her living room. A skinny dark haired woman stood gawping in his direction. “What the bleedin’ hell is THAT?!” she squealed.
“It’s a hypa... a hippa... hypapo... a hippo! Bought it off one of my traveller friends, it came all the way from the south coast, near the islands!” He exclaimed.
“And why on earth did you want to buy that? We got a dozen pigs and sows as it is!” she shouted, looking angry.
“Because my dearest...” he cooed, stepping closely to her and wrapping an arm around her skinny frame “This is going to make us rich! Can you imagine it?” He focused on something in front of his eyes that Gharibuu couldn’t see. He lifted his hand as if pointing to the words on a sign. “Jim’s Amazing Animals – See Henry the Hippo – 10 copper!” Agnes sighed and rolled her eyes at him.
“Alright then love, do as please, you usually do! Oh Jim look at the poor creatures legs, no one will want to see him in that state”. She frowned as she stepped towards him, her eyes showed sympathy for him. “You had better get some rags on those. I’ll boil you some now”.
“Of course my beautiful Princess. I’ll sponge him down in the tin bath while you do it. Come on lad, down you get!” Jim said as he unlatched the wooden cart and lowered the flap to the ground.
Gharibuu wobbled unsteadily on his sore legs as he tried to stand. He shuffled slowly down on to the ground.
“Well you’re hardly a baby anymore, they said you’d be small. I guess it took a while for you to get here”. He bent down and grunted as he lifted the hippo into a tin bath beside the fireplace.
Gharibuu closed his eyes as he felt the relief of the tepid water on his skin. The old man smiled as he trickled water down his head and back. Agnes strode into the room, her brow beaded with sweat carrying a large basket of steaming rags.
“There that’s better isn’t it little fellow. I guess he’s kind of sweet looking in a way. He won’t be fit for showing tomorrow Jim. I insist you wait until those wounds have healed. Let him be for a few days, we can keep him in the pigs shed”.
She kneeled beside the bath and dipped a hot rag into a bowl of steaming liquid beside her. Dabbing it at his sore leg he winced in pain, pulling back from her.
“It’s ok, it will make it better” she said soothingly and he held his leg back out for her to bathe. “Right take him out now and I’ll dress his legs, then you can take him around to the pen and put him in the shed.”
He sat next to the fire as Agnes dressed the sores on his limbs and a scratch to his back, taking in his surroundings. It was a dusty dark room, with wooden floors and dirty peeling wallpaper. It smelled slightly damp and the air smelled stale, it reminded him of how Jim smelt when he first met him.
“Right, there you are, all done” she said bearing her yellow teeth in a grin. “Now you can go around the back and have a rest. Jim! Take him around the back!” she yelled.
Jim came hobbling from the kitchen, sucking deeply on his pipe, dragging a frayed rope behind him.
“Come on then boy, out the back” he grunted, slipping the rope around his neck. It felt tight itchy around his neck as he was led through the kitchen and out of the back door. Jim threw a blanket around him as he stepped through the door. “Can’t risk anyone seeing you yet can we, come on, in here”. He said, dragging him through the gate of the pen and into a small rickety shed. It smelled like other animals in here and damp earth. He could hear the noses of them chattering excitedly as he was guided through their home.
“Who is that? That’s the biggest pig I’ve ever seen!” one piglet snorted.
“It can’t be a pig, it must be a cow, it’s far too big!” one squeaked in reply.
He didn’t like them talking about him like that. These ‘pigs’ were just as strange to him and he wished they would leave him alone. He was so tired. He shuffled heavily into the shed and slumped onto the straw bedding, burying his face in the moth eaten blanket. He sobbed as he thought of his lost home and his family. Before he had realised his heavy lids fell, his body tired and aching from its ordeal. He fell into a deep sleep only to be awoken by a familiar sound, calling out to him from the edges of his consciousness. He woke with a start, hoping that he had simply had a bad dream and was still safely sleeping between his parents. When he focused his eyes he saw the bleak surroundings of the pig shed. Heaving himself from the ground he shook off the blanket.
Suddenly filled with a fierce determination to find home again, he followed the sound out into the pen. He was now surrounded by darkness and could see unfamiliar patterns in the stars. As the pigs slept quietly he crept to the wooden fencing, pushing his nose into the gap. He could see the gate and the guards from the morning and the bridge that arched over rushing water. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the sound.
He had to find a way home! Rubbing his neck against the splintered wood he freed himself from the rope around his neck. He had seen how fast and strong the elders of his pod where, he hoped desperately to summon the energy break free. He trotted quickly to the opposite corner, readying himself to sprint. He was going to break down the gate. As he ran, building speed he thought of his family, throwing all his weight against the wooden fencing. A resonating crack filled the air as the wood crashed to the ground. Tripping as he became tangled in the wood, he struggled to get to his feet as the guards shouted in his direction.
“What the heck is that?!” one man shouted through the darkness.
Panting deeply Gharibuu ran as quickly as his legs would carry him towards the bridge, flinging himself into the rushing water below. He was submerged within seconds, kicking off the bottom powerfully to propel himself along. He saw a dark stone tunnel ahead and kept kicking until he reached the end. When he surfaced he was beyond the city walls, as he turned back he could see the puffs of smoke filling the sky above it. He was free! He glided merrily down the stream until it became too shallow for him to swim in and he reached the edge of a dark forest. He slept on the embankment, glad to be free, but anxious he was lost forever.
In the morning he began his journey home, trotting quickly through the forest, nibbling at grass and moss as he went. He enjoyed the sunshine as it shone through the branches above him and drank from the clear stream. After a long time he realised he had ventured very deep into the forest. The trees looked taller and older and their dense branches blocked out most of the light, casting him into an eerie twilight. Before long he saw a clearing ahead and at its edge a vast cave, covered with stones that shimmered. As he drew closer he could see two large eyes staring back at him from the darkness.
“Hello there. Are you lost?” it asked, it voice smooth and velvety. As it drew closer Gharibuu gasped aloud at what he saw. He had seen animals like this on the plains before, the lion and the eagle. What he saw before him was both, yet neither. It had the large muscular body covered in golden fur, the dangerous paws that housed claws like daggers. It had the majestic head of an eagle, covered in brown and white feathers and its vast, powerful wings. Its huge beak shone in the little light that remained as it spoke.
“My name is Gharibuu. I was stolen by a man and now I am lost trying to find my way home”. He explained.
“Well my name is Varashar. I am a Griffin. But not an ordinary Griffin, I have special magical powers, you see.” He said silkily, as he chuckled deeply in his throat.
Gharibuu was scared of him, there was something about his eyes that he did not trust.
“Do you wish very much to go home? I can help you get there very quickly!” he offered, turning his head from side to side, assessing Gharibuu with each eye.
“Yes of course more than anything. Please help me get home!” he pleaded.
Chuckling darkly the Varashar replied “As you wish little Hippogriff!!”
“No, no, I’m a hippopotamus not a....” he words stuck in his throat as he felt a churning inside of him and his skin began to burn. He fell to the ground, curling into a ball. “What are you doing to me, stop it! It hurts, please!” he pleaded.
“Just what you asked for, I’m going to help you get home quickly!” he replied, chuckling louder.
Feathers began to spring from Gharibuu’s neck and shoulders, quickly covering his face. His front legs began to lengthen and the skin that remained turned to a yellowish crust of scales, each toe armed with a lethal black claw. His back legs grew longer and slimmer, sprouting a glossy chestnut fur, and his little toes turned to hooves before his eyes. As he stood shakily he realised to his amazement that he had grown wings. He stretched them out, testing there power, the tips nearly touching either side of the clearing.
“There you are, much better!” barked Varashar. “Now hurry up and thank me and be on your way.”
“Umm thank you. So now I can fly home?” he asked shakily.
“Yes, yes! Flap your wings! Fly out through the clearing, over the forest and follow the river south, you’ll soon be there” he replied smugly, a dark look of satisfaction on his face.
Gharibuu beat his new wings furiously and he was soon soaring up to the tree tops. “Thank you Varashar!!” he yelled to the ground.
“Oh no my little hippogriff, the pleasure is all mine.” He chuckled darkly as he retreated into the gloom of the cave.
As he followed the river south the ground became drier and flatter, the hills and forests left far behind him. Then his heart leapt as he saw it, the mouth of the river opened into a wide lake, and there were the bright grassy plains of his home. As he soared over the water he could see a group of hippos slashing in the distance. He swooped down to close to them.
“Momma! Papa! It’s me Gharibuu!” he yelled to them, as he galloped across the grass.
“Don’t be so ridiculous boy, you are a strange creature, we have never seen your kind before! Leave us now.” He barked
“But Papa don’t you believe me, it’s me! Momma it’s little Gharibuu!” he pleaded, his voice cracking as tears filled his yellow eyes.
“My Gharibuu was killed by poachers! How could you be so cruel!” she said angrily, turning her back on him.
Gharibuu, filled with sadness turned and flew across the vast waters, flying further south. After abandoning all hope and dropped his beak and swooped straight towards the glassy surface of the lake. He dropped into the lake, sinking deeper and deeper until he reached the bottom. The water felt cold on his skin as in seeped in between his feathers. Then as sadness washed over him and the cold reached his core she saw something shimmering before his eyes. It was a giant fish, larger than any he had seen before, its silver scales dazzling, refracting all the colours of the rainbow.
“Hello little Gharibuu...” it said, bubbles flowing from its mouth. “I see you have gotten yourself into a spot of trouble. You haven’t spoken to a mischievous Griffin by any chance have you?” she giggled brightly, swishing her flowing tail back and forth.
He nodded weakly, loosing strength as he ran out of air.
“Dear, dear. Sometimes what seems the easier route to take is not the right route to take. You would have found your way back without him. All you had to was be Gharibuu and keep on trying. Now I will help you again. The plains have not been the same without you!”
The fish swam around him, faster and faster gathering speed. The water around Gharibuu fizzed as he was surrounded by a whirlpool of bubbles and swishing water. The water was filled with the sound of a low hum and before he knew it, she had stopped. When he looked down he saw his own legs and feet again, gone were the talons and feathers, gone were the hooves and tail, he was a hippopotamus again! He zipped around the water gleefully before turning to the fish.
“How can I ever thank you?! What is your name?” he cried.
The fish giggled sweetly as she swam beside him. “My name is Nobu, do not worry, that’s what friends are for. Now go to them!”
“Thank you Nobu, I’ll never forget this. We will be friends forever!” he shouted as he bounded across the river floor, rushing to be with his family once again.
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1 Comment
i kno wi mentioned last tiem the over use of descriptions, but the first part (up until he escapes) is wonderfully detailed and 'felt'. I think you varstly improved this from your first draft, but it does seem to change pase and feeling when he escapes :)
I wonderful read, a bedtime story for me.
thank you for a wonderful bedtime story
Jak :)
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