[ P ] Instinctual

T

he whole family… Cian’s family had not been whole for some time. They had been together only long enough for the boys to be big enough to send to the army barracks. For Father, having three sons was a source of pride -- and he had been a proud man, eager to make a name for himself in the Mainlands. But Death takes who he wishes, powerful and wretched alike. How could he tell Clover the harshness that was truth? Her innocence was so endearing, he hated to tarnish it. But he had already decided that deceit was not acceptable.

His stare seemed to draw blank, as if he were suddenly far away, and the girl’s carefree humming felt distant. Clover went to pick some of the local flora, but Cian could only shake his head. ”No – no, we could never– it wouldn’t– even if he–” The words were jumbled in his brain and on his tongue. He envisioned a somber graveside to visit, but in truth, he had no idea where his father had been laid to rest in the ground. Even that would remain a question mark in his memory, and the boy shook his head. His gaze had fallen to his paws. ”He died, um, not very long ago. The drought – I only found out…”

Well, the rest did not really matter, did it? His expression still seemed far off; he did not cry as he spoke of his sire’s demise. ”Maybe my mum found a way back to the Highlands without…” Words tapered off into silence, mind unable to utter the rest aloud: Without anyone to stop her anymore.



@Clover

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

S

etting a few bundles of the precious mountain flower to the side, she began to organize them into a beautiful tiny bouquet like her mother had shown her how to do. "Hm?" She asked absentmindedly as her friend started to speak again. Clover's ears perked up as he began to say 'no' and his words began to run over one another. "He wouldn't? Oh, maybe he's allergic then? Or he could be more of a rock fella...I can get some pretty shiny rocks for him!"

The animated fae child went back to her collection of nature's abundance, although this time she dug against the earth with her paws looking for precious gems hidden there. When she glanced back up at him, she did a double-take realizing Cian was not smiling and instead was looking down at his paws a look of sadness that almost made her feel his sorrow as well. She stopped clawing at the dirt immediately, ears flattening as she tentatively approached him. The explanation was then made clear to her as she came within a few feet of him and she halted there, one paw suspended in mid-air in shock as he revealed the death of his father.

"O-oh...oh no, Cian...I...I-I..." Clover felt a stabbing in her heart and her eyes widened for a moment, looking about to see if there was something anything she could grasp onto to help her find words in this moment. When she could find nothing to aid her she swallowed a lump that had begun to form in her throat and bridged the distance that remained between them. She stood on her tip-toes to nestle her head beneath his chin to try to comfort him. "I'm so, so terribly sorry, Cian...that is awful..." She whispered softly before she withdrew only just enough to be able to see his face and try to read how he was feeling.

He mentioned his mother again and she wasn't sure she understood the statement, though she decided she might offer an encouraging note there to ease the pain of his loss. "We might yet run into her then when we're travelin'. Wouldn't that be nice?" In the face of such grief, she had a feeling that focusing on something to look forward to might be beneficial for Cian.

@Cian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

C

ian could not bear to see the witness that clouded his companion’s expression as she began to understand, staring more intensely at his own paws to avoid having to see her secondhand sorrow. She had not known the man who had been lost, nor the complicated relationship he had with Cian, his youngest son. ”It – it’s okay, Clover, really. He was old even when I was little, and the heat… He couldn’t do anything to control that. No one could.”

Clover suggested hopefully that they might find his mother while they explored the Highlands, and Cian nodded as the hint of a smile appeared on his pale muzzle. ”I suppose stranger things have happened,” the boy acknowledged aloud as his fiery eyes returned to Clover’s. He lifted a large paw, hesitating for a second before placing it gently on Clover's much smaller paw. ”Who would have guessed we would be here today? Not me.”

Again, he considered all of the events that needed to happen in order for the present to be as it was. ”I know that my ancestors – half of them, anyway– lived in the Highlands. Her grandfather was a – I guess he was a storyteller known throughout– at least, that's what Mum said. A really kind wolf.” She had never spoken of her father, but had been very fond of her grandparents when she was herself a child. ”His name was – oh, let me think. It started with an H, like Hi– something.”



@Clover

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

S

he frowned as he tried to shrug off the death of his father that clearly hung over her friend like a storm cloud. Clover felt there was not much more that she could say to him and instead she leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder as she offered the comfort of her presence instead. When they began to muse on the possibility that they would find Cian's mother, Clover nodded in agreement with him. There always seemed to be odd ways of even just the two of them finding each other over and over again. Certainly the same thing could happen with his mum, right?

A warmth settled over one of her paws and she looked down to find his large paw resting over hers. She felt her insides warm up, her features brightening with a smile as she peered back up into Cian's eyes. "I thought you'd never stop running away from me." Clover teased him gently, although she did sometimes wonder in the back of her mind what it was that caused him to stay with her now. Did it have to do with his family? His father dying? She pushed away the thought and tuned back into what the red-headed boy was sharing about of his Highlander ancestors.

Pink eyes grew wide with excitement as she mentioned that there had been a renowned storyteller in his mother's family. "Ooo!! Storytime was always my favorite time with my Papa." An idea popped into her head and she blinked at Cian with a little gasp. "Maybe you have the gift of storytelling from your grandpapa! What was his name again? Hi?"


@Cian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

E

ven as his paw rest upon Clover’s, he seemed nervous to look over at her. Why? She had not pulled away immediately… though he had not exactly anticipated that she would, shyness suggested that it had been a possibility. His fluttering nerves almost inspired him to pull away as Clover spoke softly, "I thought you'd never stop running away from me." His face turned slowly to see Clover’s countenance, smiling and vibrant. Not for the first time, the youth found himself at a loss for words, though his brain made a feeble attempt to reply. ”I – did I – I wasn’t running, I–” But it was of no use. Kismet had intervened, and he lowered his chin so that his face was closer to Clover’s delicate features.

For a second, his dark ears fell along with his expression, and he shared his realization with an air of disappointment: ”I don’t – I don’t know many stories.” The supposed frivolity of fairy tales had been yet another thing that Father had tried to banish from his youth, something deemed unnecessary to his future as a fighter. But Cian’s smile swiftly returned as he mused, ”But I can learn them now. And we – when we travel, we will have our own stories to tell.” This notion seemed to hearten the boy considerably.

His thoughts returned to his ancestor, and dark lips pursed pensively as he explored recollections unvisited in some time. ”Hi– hmm..” Like a flash in the darkness, the old moniker returned to Cian, in the words of his mother whispered when he was still little, about memories she had made a long time ago. He shouted it out loud in his excitement: ”Hiram! That was it! That was his name.”



@Clover

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

H

is stuttering words made the smaller girl giggle, enjoying the affect she seemed to have on the boy. Clover remained where she was as he lowered his head, his face so close to hers that she could study each individual strand of hair that made up his facial features. She admired the way the cream of his muzzle would fade into the vibrant flame of the majority of his coat. The girl continued to simply behold the physical embodiment of this gentle giant that was Cian, not able to recall a time where they were quite this close to one another for such a length of time.

She hummed thoughtfully, a kind smile of encouragement pulling at the corners of her mouth when it was suggested that they could make stories together from their travels. "Oh, what stories we could tell..." The fae child sighed happily as her mind began to wander only to be reeled back in by her best friend remembering the name of his grandfather. "Hiram? That's a lovely name!" She exclaimed with nearly equal excitement a laugh rising in her throat, nodding to herself as though she were to mentally take note of the name as well.

When she turned back to peer into Cian's face again, the side of her maw accidentally tapped against his. Her vibrant pink eyes flickered upward in search of his as her instinct willed her to stay where she was. Her ears folded back slightly as her eyes slowly closed, focused on the sounds of their breathing and the heartbeats between the two of them. Guided by her other senses, she allowed her muzzle to slowly nuzzle against his, a contented hum rising in her throat.


@Cian

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck

”O

h, what stories we could tell..." Cian smiled brightly as his imagination ran wild – the mountains they would climb, the ocean air they would smell. And always side by side… or so he hoped, anyway. Who could guess the future? In Cian’s short existence, he had been surprised many times, so often that the carefully laid plans had disintegrated like chalk. He would think more of old Hiram and those who were long gone, but still mattered so much. Perhaps Cian would make his Highlander ancestors proud, after all.

It was in this dreamy state that Cian found Clover closer than ever before, so close he could feel her gentle breaths on his snout. Their eyes met, pale pink and amber pools, eyes which saw the world very differently, and yet, seemed destined to see that world together. His heart was beating in double time, so furiously thumping within his ribcage, and noisily pulsing in his ears. He was almost certain that Clover could hear it.

His eyelids shut; no longer seeing, all that remained was feeling, and breathing in her delicate scent. The feeling was electric, almost startling, but Cian did not dare to move, for fear that it would be over just as soon as it began. The sound of Clover’s hum was the sweetest music he had ever heard. A sigh escaped his maw. "I am glad that we are here." His words were uncomplicated, and his mind, for once, did not cloud his sentiment with uncertainty.

How did the trees know when to change for the fall? They just did.

How did Cian know that he had made the right choice to leave the Mainlands, the army, and the Royalist view behind? Instinct.


/end


@Clover

art and code by Yahtzee-Penguiduck