Boredom

The Egg was lonely... and bored. Cammie had stopped dreaming and dropped into a deeper sleep, leaving him with no amusements. He tried poking around in her head, but he couldn't get very many places, and if he poked too hard, she muttered in her sleep and tossed restlessly. So The Egg decided not to do that any more.

There were other people around... humans, like Cammie. They were sleeping too, from what he could tell, but their minds were harder to touch. He wasn't even sure exactly how many more people were here. There was definitely another female close by because Cammie had been talking to her. But he didn't know where this other human was. He wouldn't even care if he wasn't so bored.

He strained against the membrane around him, pushing at the hard shell of his egg. It didn't budge. He was getting too big for this, and he hoped that he could break the shell soon. Cammie didn't want him too... he could tell. She didn't want other people to see him either, which was why he had to stay in The Bag. It was boring in The Bag. The only not-boring thing about this entire situation was the marbles... and none were popping up at the moment to occupy his attention. Cammie was not-boring too... but she was asleep. He wished she had dreamed more about the fair, but after a little while, the cows had turned into giant mermaids and then swam away, so the fair had to close. It seemed odd to him that the cows would turn into mermaids, especially since there wasn't water there to begin with. Ridiculous cows and their ridiculous ideas.

Unable to help himself, The Egg turned his mind to Cammie again and prodded her. Her mind swatted his away sleepily, for a second rising out of the depths, then disappearing into sleep again. The Egg sulked. He was bored. Cammie should be awake to play with him! She was supposed to be taking care of him and amusing him. Given her track record, however, this wasn't surprising.

First, Cammie had thought he wasn't real. Even though he insisted he was, she thought that he was a delusion for a long time. When she finally decided that he was a real egg, she was not pleased. Most bondmates were supposed to be happy to see their eggs. Cammie had not been happy at all. Cammie had tried to toss him in a horrible box called a dumpster, with refuse. She had wanted to abandon him.

He shifted inside his shell in a mixture of anger and fright. How dare she try to leave him?! What if she wanted to abandon him again when he had to come out of the shell...? He wouldn't let her, of course. He would find her. Even though the world was bigger than The Egg, he would find Cammie if she tried to leave him behind... even if it was only to tell her that she couldn't just leave him behind places because bondmates don't do that. Bondmates take care of their eggs and wrap them in blankets and tell them stories and make them be not-bored.

Cammie was definitely not the model of a good bondmate. The Egg was here, however, and he had been given to Cammie in particular. And Cammie was certainly not-boring, above all else. Cammie liked to chase dangerous storms. She liked to feel the wind in her hair and hear the roar of wind and thunder and rain. She liked to eat fried dough at county fairs in the summer, and she liked to wrap up in blankets and watch movies about cops chasing people. The Egg had seen that in some of her wishes occasionally. He wondered what these "cops" wanted to catch the people for. Maybe Cammie would let him watch the movies once he got out of his shell. That is, if she didn't try to leave him somewhere first.

The Egg butted his head against the shell, making his entire house rock a bit. Still not quite big enough. The Egg sulked. Suddenly, he sensed Cammie waking. She stretched and yawned quietly, then rolled over. He poked her mind with his to get her attention.

What's wrong? she asked him.

*Bored,* he pouted.

Don't you ever sleep?

*Sleep all day. Bored.*

Well, I don't know what you expect me to do about that. It's the middle of the night, and we're in the middle of nowhere.

*Story?* he asked hopefully. Surely she must know some stories... bondmates had to know some stories.

A story? Well... let's see... Cammie spent a few minutes running through stories she knew, trying to find a good one. The Egg was glad that she knew stories... it meant she wasn't entirely hopeless. Cammie finally came up with one that she seemed to think would do.

Okay, once upon a time, there was a young scullery boy, and his name was Arthur... she began.

So The Egg listened to the story of the scullery boy Arthur, who had met a wizard and then got a magical sword out of a stone and become King Arthur, and then had knights and all sorts of wonderful adventures.

Later in the morning, the other humans began getting up. Cammie had finished the story about King Arthur and had told The Egg several 'fairy tales'. He wasn't sure why they were called fairy tales, since only one of them had a fairy in it. Cammie didn't know either, except that fairies were magical and that the stories were magical too, so maybe fairies had a hand in making them. The Egg got the impression that Cammie might be teasing him. Strange woman...

Eventually, Cammie had to get up and talk with the other humans. The Egg had to stay in The Bag. He busied himself with pushing against his shell with his tail and shoulders, trying to feel how much more he had grown overnight. He must have grown at least another inch... When that stopped amusing him, he started tossing his weight to and fro to test his strength. This was very fun for a while, until Cammie saw him and yelled at him to stop because he was making his entire egg rock back and forth. He sulked and sat still for a bit. If Cammie thought that The Egg was going to sit still and quiet in The Bag all day once he was out of his shell, she had a big surprise coming.

The truck had started moving again by now. The Egg listened, but all he could hear was the motor and the movement and an occasional gust of wind, as though they were in a tunnel. He tried to listen to the talking, but it was muffled. He couldn't understand it anyway. He could only understand Cammie, and that was because he could look at her thoughts and figure out what she was saying in words. He slumped a bit in defeat and then nudged his nose against his shell. So bored... He projected feelings of boredom and unhappiness as loudly as he could without directly telling Cammie.

Finally, after a lifetime, she noticed. Bored again? she asked. The Egg sent her an affirmative. She seemed to go rummage through things and look for something... something called a "CD". She came over and stuck something onto the outside of his shell.

She fiddled with something else, and suddenly, loud noises started pouring through his shell. He squeaked in alarm and curled tighter into a ball. Cammie adjusted it, and the noise became more bearable. It was rhythmic... and there were all sorts of sounds... and voices. It was music of some sort!

Sorry about that... this is Queen. It's good stuff. Try listening to this for a bit, okay? I have to work.

She went away again, leaving the Queen CD playing. The Egg was confused. The voices sounded male, and queens were usually female. The words were projected right into his shell, so they were clear, but he couldn't understand much of what the men were singing without Cammie to help him translate. They sounded angry about something.

The Egg listened to the music. It was actually very nice once you adjusted to the odd noises. He started making up stories about what the men were singing about, mostly centering on queens and how the men weren't allowed to be queens because they were men and how they were angry about this and wanted to be queens anyway. It seemed far too short a time before the music stopped and did not start again. The Egg chirped indignantly and tried to get Cammie's attention, but he couldn't find her. He panicked. Maybe she had left him here! No... that wasn't possible... she had to work... and she had left her CD and Queens here too! He squeaked and started rocking his egg back and forth, trying to get out... or at least trying to get the CD to give him back the music.

Hey, hey, cut it out! Someone is going to see you! Cammie's voice suddenly cut through his head. Lord, you are going to be a little terror when you hatch...

*Queens!* The Egg demanded, bouncing in place rather than rocking his egg.

Sure you don't want to listen to something else?

*Queens!* he insisted, tossing himself to the side to give the egg a good rock.

All right, all right, hold on a moment, Cammie said, and she came over to fiddle with the CD. And that's Queen, not Queens. Queens is a place in New York. Now, I put this on repeat this time, so it won't stop until you ask me to stop it. Try to behave yourself, and if you can't find me right away, don't start that rocking again! The last thing I need is someone discovering you...

She left to go do whatever it was she was doing... The Egg didn't see what could be so important. There were no storms outside; and therefore, there were no marbles yet. He wanted to ask her why all the men apparently wanted to be only one queen, but she seemed busy. He listened as the music started playing again, trying to figure out some of the words.