Sigrid's Pets
The sound of bending metal echoed in the night. Blaire stumbled out of her car, keeping one hand on the hood as she ran to see what she hit. The warped metal was hot to the touch, with steam releasing in clouds of white smoke.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, I hit someone!” she reached for her phone, dialing the only number saved.
“This is Sigrid. How may I assist you?”
“Siggie! Siggie I hit something, someone I think it's dead. What do I do? I've never killed anything before. I don’t know what to do. The hood is damaged. I don't know what’s coming out of it, but it’s white and smokey and- and- and,” She was starting to hyperventilate.
“Blaire, calm down. It's going to be okay. Send me your location I’m on my way.” Blaire heard them grab a jacket. They must be taking the motorcycle. It was usually faster than the car.
“How do I do that?”
“Get back in your car and turn on the hazards, then step off to the side of the road. Where were you going? I can just drive down roads until I find you, and if you actually killed someone, we can dig a hole in the right of way.”
“I, uh, was coming from the gas station.”
“Be there in 10.” the line went dead. Blaire just nodded, robotically following the instructions she was given and sitting on the embankment by the car.
She heard the bike before she saw it. Sigrid had a shovel strapped to the side of their motorcycle and an extra jacket wrapped around their waist.
“Blaire! There you are!” they grinned, shining a flashlight over the area, “Where’s the body?”
“Under the car,” Blaire mumbled, still staring at the gravel on the roadside. Sigrid nodded, checking around the car for damage and body parts. There was a furry lump under the front tire. Two eyes glinted in the light of the flashlight as they swept the beam across the area.
“Blaire.” they said, “This is a raccoon. And it’s alive.” they started laughing.
“I didn’t kill it?” She asked. Sounding to Sigrid like a lost child, Sigrid’s face softened into a slight smile, “no, you didn't kill it,” they reached under the car, pulling the raccoon out by the back of its neck before putting a hand under its rear.
“He's got some minor damage, but should be okay with a quick trip to the vet.” the raccoon squirmed in her grasp, hissing and biting at the air.
“Feisty thing, though.” they moved to sit by Blaire, petting the raccoon between his ears until he calmed down. “Im going to keep him. We have matching scars!” Sigrid held the raccoon next to their face, their hands under his front legs, grinning. The blood from the raccoon’s fur was smeared across Sigrid’s cheek and hands. Both of their left eyes sported a long white scar extending the majority of the left side of their faces in a long thick line.
Blaire snorted, covering her mouth to hide her smile, “I’m glad I didn’t kill it. But the blood is kinda gross.”
“Didn’t you grow up in the plague?” Sigrid deadpanned.
“Not really; I was adopted when I was ten and lived in a commune in the woods.”
“AH. faeries.” Sigrid nodded sagely,
“Sometimes I think you're more Irish than I am. And I am offended by that.”
“Ach, I lived on the isles longer than you did. Don't worry about it, okay? Now, let's get this little fella cleaned up and you home. We can call a tow on the way home.” the raccoon hissed but settled into Sigrid’s arms now that he knew they were not a threat to him.
“I’m gonna call you Odinson.”