It actually was Pickwick, curled up in a fetal position and looking worried in her bed.
"My name is Pickwick and I am mute," the parrot moaned.
Fable didn't know whether to laugh or worry. After all, this was the only phrase Charmwill allowed Pickwick to utter. It was a mind-boggling phrase.
"Are you looking for Loki?" She held the parrot up and hugged it. Pickwick seemed to enjoy Fable's embrace immensely, and hugged her back with his short wings. "Don't worry, Pickwick. Everything is going to be all right, I promise." She patted him, thinking about how Charmwill had told Loki to take care of Pickwick in case he died. Now, with Loki dead, Pickwick had been orphaned twice. Fable wondered what this mysterious parrot really meant to Charmwill. No doubt Pickwick knew tons of secrets he couldn't utter. Without his help, she wouldn't have guessed Charmwill Glimmer's True Name to be Wilhelm Carl Grimm in the first place.
"Tell you what," Fable suggested, "I will feed Itsy and Bitsy in a while. How about I make you a big breakfast?"
Pickwick shook his head. He didn't seem interested in food, unlike the rest of the Crumblewoods and their animals. He pointed out at the fields beyond the window, but Fable couldn't understand what he meant.
Suddenly, Fable's bed started to shake. Pickwick hugged her harder, squinting his eyes. He was like a baby in need of all the love in the world.
"Shh," Fable whispered, waiting for the shaking bed to stop. She was used to it. Everyone in Sorrow was used to it. She could hear a trail of a distant and hollow sound, as if some giant wailed over the mountains. The bed shook for a few more moments before it stabilized and calmed like a ship against the tides of the ocean.
"See?" She smiled at Pickwick. "It's all gone. That's Sorrow's whale,
" she explained to him. "The whale which Sorrow resides upon. He likes to shake the whole town every now and then. We're glad as long as he never rolls over and drowns us in the ocean."
Pickwick pouted.
"I know it's silly." Fable put him aside, stood up, and stretched her arms. "We live in a town on the back of a whale." She rolled her eyes. "And that's the least of our worries, believe me." She pulled her towel and walked to the bathroom. Pickwick clung to her shoulders on the way in. "I'm not sure about that." Fable stopped. "I'm a girl, you know. I need privacy in the bathroom." Pickwick didn't move, and Fable had a sweet spot for animals. "Okay." She rolled her eyes again. "I'm only going to brush my teeth. Don't expect anything else."
Inside, Fable washed her face and teeth while Pickwick sat on the sink's side. He still seemed worried, but she had no idea how to help. She had her own worries, that strange feeling again. What was it?
Fable stood looking at the mirror for a while. She didn't want to think about any of the things she had to think about, like how to resurrect Charmwill, where Cerené was, or what would become of Shew. Hell, she couldn't exactly understand what all of this was about. She was sure Axel would have tons of suggestions and theories when she met him.
For now, she waved her toothbrush as if it were a sword at the mirror, posed like Loki used to do, and said, "My name is Loki Blackstar, and I'm here to kick your ass!"
Pickwick's eyes widened. So did Fable's. Why had she done that? It came out spontaneously. Was it because she missed Loki already? Was she trying to forget the fact that she might never see him again?
"That was weird," she told Pickwick, who nodded with utter agreement. "You think I'm weird?" She squinted. Pickwick nodded again. This time, he clapped his wings together. "So you like weird?" she said. Pickwick flapped his wings. "I always thought weird was cool." Fable looked back at the mirror, unable to explain that weird feeling she had. She felt so…so… She couldn't put her finger on it.