New Story Whale Chapter 🐳: A New Day! 🦇🐹
A Fruit Bat and a Guinea Pig Against the World 🦇🐹 (and a look towards the future of the Story Whale newsletter)
Salut!
Before we get to today’s story, I wanted to have a quick chat about an important topic for the newsletter. The future!
I just wanted to take a second to thank everyone who has pledged support to Story Whale so far. It really means the world. An extra paid tier one day would be incredible. Not to say there won’t always be a free option too!
With that said, a paid tier would mean more writing time and more stories. It also offers a way for readers to financially support Story Whale (me) and help ensure a great future for the newsletter.
If the idea of extra Story Whale stories is appealing to you, please do let me know!
One of the best way to do that is through pledges. Pledges are a way for readers to say that they would be willing to pay for a paid option if one was ever made available. Importantly, you won’t actually be charged anything unless the paid tier is activated.
So please consider signing up! That way I can get a clearer idea of how worth it a paid tier might one day be 😊
Important note: I have set the pricing to the minimum that Substack allows.
Also, side note: I’ve made a chapter page for this series! Yay!
Now, back to the stories, here’s today’s chapter!
The night ticked on quietly. The nocturnal creatures of the forest went about their foraging business. Leaves rustled with the occasional landing of a bat. Branches swayed as possums played tag, screeching at each other in that special way that only possums do — when you can’t tell if they’re best friends or arch enemies.
Bruce’s wing was aching so badly that it was giving him a headache. It didn’t take long for his eyes to fall shut on him and give him some relief.
Down below, for a good long while, the two foxes continued to circle like vultures, every so often yowling out in frustration.
After what felt like a very long night, the sun finally stepped in to take over for its shift.
The nighttime animals searched for some sleepy shade and the daytime animals stepped out into the light.
Bruce woke up as an unfortunate ray of bright light snuck through the canopy above and shined on his face. A most unpleasant way for a bat to wake up, he rolled aside to find some shade for his eyes.
Unfortunately, his injury was sticking around. His wing still ached.
He was out of schedule with his normal sleep routine now. He felt heavy and slow and just wanted somewhere dark to lie down.
He looked around and Ginny was gone. He wasn’t too shocked. In his mind, it was fair enough for her to have left. He hadn’t had any expectations.
At least the foxes were gone too.
As Bruce properly woke up, he tried to come up with a plan. It sure didn’t feel like he had many options.
Thinking things over, a fleshy chunk of mango skin was suddenly plopped down in front of him.
Bruce looked up. Ginny was back.
“Dig in,” said Ginny.
Bruce didn’t hesitate. He immediately started chomping down the mango.
“How are you feeling?” asked Ginny.
Bruce spoke with a very full mouth. “Better now.”
“And your wing?” she asked.
The excitement faded in his voice.
“Sore,” he said. “Very sore.”
“Can you fly yet?” she asked.
“Not for a while, I don’t think,” said Bruce.
Ginny looked down at the drop below.
“Would you be able to glide down to the forest floor?” she asked him.
Bruce was finishing up his mango.
“I think so,” he said.
“If you want, you can come back to our village,” said Ginny. “It’s not far from here. It’s somewhere you can stay while you rest up.”
Bruce was hesitant. He didn’t want to be a burden.
“You can’t stay here,” Ginny continued. “There are snakes in these trees.”
Bruce knew she was right.
His voice was soft. “Thank you.”
Following their different routes, they both made the trip down to the forest floor. Bruce glided down in small sailing circles until he reached the ground. His wing stung and it was a choppy little descent, but he made it.
Ginny took the branches route, weaving from branch to branch and tree to tree, fortunately never having to make any overly treacherous leaps.
They regrouped at the bottom of the tree and began their journey.