[ P ] Never See You Again

Part of her had hoped that the unexpected kiss might liven him up a little and earn her a flustered reaction. It was the sudden squirming in her own belly that she hadn’t anticipated. Why of all sensations would this affect her and not him? Most importantly why did it bother her so much that he barely seemed to notice it? She interpreted his stunned silence as apathy. It had sparked nothing within him and that was… fine. It had only been a joke anyway. The denial jumped quickly to her defence and she used it as a shield to block the feelings of confusion that had suddenly arisen. You should be, she quipped back, lifting her head in a haughty manner. A kiss from a Tiamat was a gift indeed.

The seriousness of Belfast’s condition couldn’t be ignored any longer. She wasn’t a doctor by any means, but she could tell that he was in poor condition and it wasn’t just the illness. There was something broken within him. Alphonse died, he clarified and the reason for his sudden retreat began to make more sense. She had seen the man in passing a few times and she knew that Belfast had relied on him as a mentor of sorts.

Why didn’t you tell me? She wanted to ask him, feeling the sting of rejection from his decision to turn away from her and run away to the red wood. It was such a childish thing to do, running away and hiding. I didn’t come to you either, did I? she realised, thinking back on her father’s death. She had run away too, avoiding dealing with her feelings so that she could focus on revenge.

You don’t have to decide anything right now, she assured him, sitting down so that she could press her side against his. And you don’t have to do it alone either. I’m here, she added, wanting him to understand that she was there for him. What she didn’t tell him was how scared she was that she might lose him because she wanted to be a strong reassuring shoulder that he could use as support. If he knew she was afraid then he might not think she was strong enough to handle his pain.

Art by Ashon

The sickly sweet

secrets of the poppy seed

If only he could have seen into her head, he might have been able to offer some sort of explanation, soothe some of the sudden rejection. Alas, he could read the signs she gave him, but his interpretation was hazy. He figured she was frustrated that her coy little kiss hadn't sparked more life in him—but he was blind to any butterflies within her own stomach. It did not occur to him, not even remotely, that she might harbor feelings for him. Which truly dampened any feelings he had for her. While they existed, he had silenced them for so long—shoved them so deep within himself for years—to the point that even he had started to believe that he valued her only as a friend. That he could go to her inevitable Tiamat wedding with a smile on his face.

That he could give her away one day with a laugh and a joke.

"You don’t have to decide anything right now," Xandria offered and Belfast grimaced slightly. He could feel the flakes of blood on his nose and, internally, he could hear the ticking of a clock. Time was running out. "And you don’t have to do it alone either. I’m here." Her side pressed into his, an anchor in a sea.

And it was that touch that caused him to roll back onto his stomach and meet her gaze. "But I might not be."

Internally, he gritted his teeth. Already, he braced himself for her reaction. For her strong desire to fix him at all costs. Just like the time she had almost marched him to her mother in order to make him a ward of the Tiamats. Back when they had been youths, she had wanted nothing more than to get him off of the streets. And yet, he could not imagine living so close to her family—of being so close to it yet never a part of it—even if it meant being more comfortable.

"I've started to have fevers. Nosebleeds. Nausea. Sleeplessness. I've never seen an illness like this before, nor have I found a remedy." Not that he was a doctor. Or that he could afford a good one. Or that he had the energy to search. "I might not last the year." His shoulders sagged slightly and, while he wanted to look away, he did his best to maintain eye contact.

Seeing her now, he supposed that she deserved a goodbye... even if it was a shitty, last minute one.

code by EGGSY, minor modifications by claerie

@Xandria

When they were younger Xandria had wanted nothing more than to bring Belfast into her world so that he might enjoy the comforts that her privilege allowed her. The young Tiamat Princess couldn’t understand his stubborn refusal to accept her offer. It didn't occur to her that it would cause him pain to be a guest in her home, but not one of the family. In her ignorance she could only see the benefits of not having to sleep rough and look over his shoulder every night. Why? She’d pushed back, insisting that it was no trouble, and he’d refused again. It was a humbling moment for the spoiled girl to learn that she couldn’t always get her own way. The lesson was one that had made a lasting impression and she’d been gentler with her approach, more considerate of his wishes.

"But I might not be."
The words sent a shiver down her spine, fur rising along the nape of her neck as she waited for clarification. "I've started to have fevers. Nosebleeds. Nausea. Sleeplessness…”
Her tail began to thrash like a restless snake, every hair bristling with anxiety and fear. A knot of dread tangled up inside of her stomach as the sense of deja vu settled upon her. She knew those ghostly fingers that tickled her spine and clutched at her throat. Death.

Your father was killed in battle…

Ahkoris is missing… They haven’t found a body, but…

"I might not last the year.”

It was too much. She’d tried so hard to ignore it, to be strong and pretend that she was okay. Faced with the reality that she might lose a third person that was dear to her broke the seal to the bottled emotions she’d tried so hard to keep hidden. Tears burned her eyes and she turned away from him, not wanting him to see her cry again. She was supposed to be supporting him, showing him that he could rely on her, not breaking down. The sobs came, deep and mournful. Shoulders shaking and sides heaving with each breath. I-I don’t want to lose you too, she sniffled, looking back at him with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. There was no point in hiding it now.

Art by Ashon

The sickly sweet

secrets of the poppy seed

He wasn't sure what he expected. Perhaps a grimace and a wariness in her gaze. A sort of slow detachment where she struggled to comprehend what he was saying and, to spare herself that burden, grew distant. There'd be a listless "I'm sorry," and perhaps a squeeze on the shoulder. It'd be an awkward, stilted performance, but a necessary one.

Her tail began to thrash and fire seemed to burn within her gaze. Like a spark catching flame in a forest, it spread along her back and shoulders until the whole of her fur seemed to stand on end. She looked like she was in battle—no, that wasn't right. No, it looked as though she had just lost the battle. The war, the world.

His brow knit as sobs started to wrack her frame. Her hunched shoulders made her look small and fragile despite all of its hardwon muscle.

"I-I don’t want to lose you too," came her choked response at last.
"I didn't want you to," he answered in response, ears folding back and a weak smile on his lips. "I wanted to just be the ungrateful bastard that left and never said goodbye. Not the dead childhood friend that haunts you." He sat up onto his haunches and extended a paw to press against her shoulder comfortingly.

"But you had to find me—now what will all of that trauma do to you? Your lordly husband will never be able to compete." A wane joke to try and cut the tension, a soft deflection to soothe the sudden burning at the corners of his eyes and the tightness in his chest.

He hadn't expected her to care this much.
And he didn't know what to do now that it was clear that she did.

code by EGGSY, minor modifications by claerie

@Xandria

His explanation was not the soothing balm that wiped her tears away, but a flint that sparked the flame. Anger flared up within her, so swiftly that she choked on a sob that had died in her throat. You’re an asshole, Belfast fucking Moss, she growled, golden eyes narrowed and glistening with fresh tears. Whatever his intentions had been to save her from the pain of losing someone else had had the opposite effect. Xandria felt hurt and betrayed that he had abandoned her without a word. I can’t believe you, she groaned in frustration, grinding her teeth together and bristling.

Of course I would look for you. You’re my best friend, she retorted, And even though I really want to bite you right now… I still care and.. I’m not leaving without you, she stated with all the firmness of a stubborn pup that refused to budge. Her chin lifted, muzzle raised in the air in a defiant manner. It would be a familiar look to the boy who had been faced with it whenever Xandria wanted to get her own way. Stop it. I don’t care about any of that. I want you to live, Belfast. Maybe I’m selfish. Maybe you’ll hate me for it, but I’m taking you to a doctor, Xandria stated firmly, raising from her slumped posture and looking him directly in the eyes. Her golden eyes were resolute, prepared for him to argue with her and lament his own fate. She had already decided to save him and she would not change her mind.

Art by Ashon

The sickly sweet

secrets of the poppy seed

Anger flared within her golden gaze, sharp and hot that it made her glassy gaze look particularly biting. Despite himself, he flinched back slightly. Guilt was a fine-edged blade and it wedged itself between his ribs. She insulted him without hesitation, a growl properly mollifying him. "Of course I would look for you. You’re my best friend." The words were like a cuff over the ears and his brow knit slightly. He wanted to say that he hadn't known that she'd felt that way. But, just as he did, he knew it would be a self-soothing lie.

Deep inside, he had known. And that sudden realization was one that he had kept locked away within his chest, as if not acknowledging it would somehow make it not true. As if she'd eventually see how much of a waste of space he was. His parents had not stayed around long enough to see him grow up, even his aunt didn't remember him. Hell, his sister had even left. So why wouldn't Xandria?

What was it about this plucky princess that kept her coming back? Why was she so reluctant to let him go? As if there wasn't a long line of wolves that would have loved to have such a beautiful, radiant friend by their side? There were a thousand wolves more worthy than he.

But she'd dropped everything to be here for him. And that caused his chest to ache a bit more.

Her chin lifted as she told him in no uncertain terms that she was not leaving without him. Somehow, he was not surprised, and he didn't even voice a protest. He'd seen that look before. He knew very well that fighting wasn't an option—she'd kick his ass quite frankly.

"Stop it. I don’t care about any of that. I want you to live, Belfast. Maybe I’m selfish. Maybe you’ll hate me for it, but I’m taking you to a doctor."

He felt the urge to tell her what he'd already told himself: that they couldn't do anything. That he was a lost cause. That it was best to just leave. And then he took a long, hard look at her face—at the tear streaks from the sobs... and he didn't have the heart to break whatever hope was left. If taking him to a doctor stopped those tears, then he'd suffer through it for her. That much he knew.

"Okay," Belfast said, rising to his paws. "You win, I'll do it." With a flick of an ear, he cast her a sidelong glance.

"I... care about you a lot, Xan." His throat felt tight, his voice thick. "More than I want to admit. I'm sorry for hurting you, truly." It felt like he was pressing on a bruise, but he owed her an apology. "I won't leave you alone if I can help it. If that's what you want."

He still struggled to believe that this was really what she wanted, but she'd never been one to lie, had she?

code by EGGSY, minor modifications by claerie

@Xandria

Okay. You win, I’ll do it, Xandria watched him, searching his features for any signs that he was being dishonest with her. If he was determined to go through with his plan she knew she would have to show him how serious she was by wolfhandling him all the way to the lowlands and she really didn’t want to have to treat her friend like someone she had arrested. She released a sigh, letting the tension in her body loosen the taut muscles in her neck, shoulders and back. Her head felt fuzzy with exhaustion from the sudden burst of emotion and the swell of relief from his agreement did little to ease the headache she could feel pulsing between her ears.

"I... care about you a lot, Xan."
Heat flushed through to her cheeks and she felt her heart quicken a little. It was too fleeting a feeling for her to think anything of it other than embarrassment to hear such words. Similar to when her mother fussed over her. She simply just wasn’t used to such earnest declarations of affection, but the not-so-subtle wag of her tail gave away how she really felt about it.

Surprise flickered through her expression when Belfast apologised. She hadn’t been expecting him to acknowledge her pain so soon and appreciated that he did. You can make it up to me later, she answered, giving him a friendly nudge with her shoulder to show that she didn’t hate him. There was still lingering hurt beneath the show comradery and she knew she would need time to trust that he wouldn’t try to leave her again. Alright. I’m going to get you something to eat.. Stay right there, okay? she told him, yellow eyes lingering on his form lest he disappear from her gaze. She lingered, uncertainty furrowing her brow together before she finally trotted off into the redwood to find something to hunt. She could only hope that her trust in him wasn’t misplaced. As much as she wanted to take him to a doctor immediately. He needed food before he was ready to travel.

- Fade to end

Art by Ashon

Will-O-Wisps

Suddenly, 7 little blue fire-balls appear amidst the trees. When they appear to spot you—if something can be believed—they suddenly form a perfect circle. The circle grows until they suddenly grow bright orange


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He couldn’t fathom why she cared about him. Well… no, perhaps that was uncharitable. He knew that he was precious to her in the sense that he was an old friend. They had shared many nights together within the Tiamat manse, a book between their paws whilst caught fireflies illuminated the room. They had grown up with the understanding that, at the end of the day, at least they had each other. Which, to him, was all he had—an old, bitter apothecary not withstanding. To her, he was one of many. She had two brothers, three sisters, a caring mother. Friends, comrades, or so he presumed. So, to be most honest, he didn’t understand why she cared about him so much.

But he accepted that those feelings—extreme to him—were real.

Belfast took in the relief in her gaze. The wariness that hid beneath her playful gesture, and the uncertainty that invaded her gaze when she offered to hunt for him.

With more strength than he felt, he offered her a smile. ”I won’t move even an inch,” he promised.

Exit