What occurred next is best organized into phases. To Astrid, however, they felt like whole eras.
First, the Genesis of her journey. It all started there, on a single, indiscriminate point on her tongue—a spark was born. The birth of taste. The microscopic agents that the berry had planted finally came to life, given the perfect landscape to do their duty.
Next, the Honeymoon. One, then two, then ten thousand sparkles dotted her mouth, blossoming like an entire meadow in the spring. Astrid figured if she could ever taste the night sky and all its distant galaxies, this would be what it tasted like. Rich, tangy flavor with the perfect mixture of blunt impact and soothing aftertaste. For a mere second, this was her blissful haven. Alone, high in the sky, tasting it all.
After that came the Great Drought. Where everything changed. Where lies were brought to light. It wasn’t just Astrid’s taste buds that started spinning like mad, oh no—the whole world was spinning now. Explosions, wildfires, thunderstorms, tornadoes, all erupting inside of her mouth. Earthquakes rattled her teeth. Spicy meteors struck her brain, ending the ice age that had existed there in a ball of violent fire. It was during this phase that Astrid’s facial expression, as well as her awareness of what she’d just chosen to do, caught up with her, erasing the last traces of the terribly naïve smile she’d just worn. She heaved, hard, taking in a breath, flinching as the cold air only further intensified the spices on her everywhere.
“Hhhhh-hhhh…”
Then, Revelations. Pain. Understanding. Recalibration: only to realize that no potion, and certainly not her measly glass of water, could save her now. She tried anyway. Glug glug glug. She knew it was in vain. But she tried anyway. Glug glug. Useless.
“Hhhoooooooottttttttt!!”
Finally, The Void. The Great Beyond. Her voice was reduced to ashes. Her eyes were red, and she was pretty sure she was seeing red too. Her face was probably red. Maybe she’d turned into a normal Vulpix. Maybe she was just red now. That was her new color. Everything was already on fire anyway.
Her tongue was undetectable, for her entire mouth had been reduced merely to an area of her body in which she experienced waves of sensation from no particular point. Was it still there, or had it been burnt to a crisp? Glug glug—ah, enough of that.
Astrid faced Curio, feeling like she was ten years older and like an additional ten years had been shaved off the end of her life. Her eyes were leaking, watering up like blades of grass on a humid morning. She nodded once, coughed, and thumped her own chest with a closed paw. “Told ya. Cold-blooded.”
