Hive Mind (Febuwhump 2025 Day 4)
Pixies are clever en-masse, while in smaller quantities they are exponentially less intelligent. A single pixie may as well also have a single braincell. By this matter, its been theorized that they may have a sort of insectile hive-mind with a queen at every swarm's heart, a core mind formed of the interconnected tiny minds of the collective whole. Perhaps even a grand pixie queen that is the true underlying driving force of all the individual pixie swarms in existence.
A fun thought experiment, but the fact remained that a small group of pixies were not that smart. Still smarter than Chester, though, Seth Noganti concluded, wrapping the still-wet cat into a towel. Snuggly. He'd left off trimming claws and was not going to tempt fate again while Chester stewed in post-bath hatred.
Cat swaddled securely in his favorite sunning spot, the apothecarist returned to the disheartening task of restarting the whole process a new batch of dandelion salve. He'd have to tell his customers there'd be a delay; that was never fun, but infusions took time especially when he didn't want to ruin any delicate compounds by over-heating it to speed up the process and---
Gentle Seth never needlessly hurt animals, no matter if it was a spider or a snake or a mouse. He'd never had an occassion to know just how horrible it was to step on a tiny creature and feel the snapping of twig-thin bones or the warmth of blood spread beneath his bare heel.
Oh, he wasn't a healer. Not in that sense, not in a way useful to those actively dying. Only in remedies that took far too long to be of use to the little pixie that flopped on shattered joints in his too-big hands. He frantically searched his cluttered work space, the potted plants growing over every surface, the ruined table-cloth, the still over-turned bowl Chester had knocked over and---
Chester had been a proper wizard's cat before retiring his arthritic rump on the apothecarist's porch. He'd once been a focus and an aid in real magics for many years before even his old master's spells couldn't keep age at bay and he was placed with Seth to keep eachother company. And, admittedly, to keep that beloved feline plump and well supplied with pain-relieving salves in his twilight years.
"Chester, buddy, if you've got anything this is the time to use it" Seth pleaded, kneeling down and unrolling the cat with one hand while still cradling the rapidly fading pixie in the other. Seth hadn't actually expected the cat to do anything, but that was an ever present risk when dealing with ex-familiars. He certainly didn't expect the lightning bolt of raw magical energies that ripped through his body in a glowing-eyed flash when Chester head-butted his hand. Cats were… unpredictable, he would have thought if he was still just he.
They were badly injured but no-longer dying, cradled in a giant's (their?) limp hand. They were a crumpled mess laying in a heap on the sunny porch. They were still untangling from the damp towel keeping their furry limbs contained. They hurt and buzzed with magic, their heads throbbing in time to the misaligned heartbeats in three separate chests. The largest of their collective forms finally pushed up onto unsteady arms. They looked at themselves with three separate sets of eyes.
Three separate creatures shared a single thought and a single scream.
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