She slowly rose through the top of the marble coffee table. Just enough to bring her eyes to where she could see the room. She could take the form and texture of any rock, crystal or mineral, but she couldn’t match the glossy shine on top of the table. She barely missed a glass sitting on the coffee table. She saw the noise and picture box, and that the man was so engrossed in watching it, that he didn’t see her rise out of the table.
For her, travelling through rock was like swimming in syrup would be to a human. After doing this for thousands of years, she was so strong that she could traverse great distances this way. The name of her race could not be pronounced by humans, and doing so would take far too long. But even if we could know her name, we would have to be killed, because she was a spy. The native American people had met distant cousins of her race. The Cherokee Indians called them the little people. There were three kinds of little people. The Laurel People, The Dogwood People, and the Rock People. The Onondaga Tribe knew a form of her race that were giants and ate the uncautious Onondaga warriors. Her race had once been allies to the dwarves of human legend, but that was long before her time. For the dwarves and elves no longer walk the earth.
But what had brought her to this place was the human who sat watching the noise and picture box. During the day he led other humans in stripping away the layers of earth and stone. They dug deep terraced holes far into the bedrock. Even they called it bedrock. Did they not know that when you rouse a creature from its bed, you must deal with its anger? She was sent by the elders to learn of this human’s plans for the next day. For tomorrow he would be killed by what his co-workers thought was an accident, but the stone of the earth protects its own.