Came up with this on the bus going to school and ended up spending my first period writing it. It's rambling, really, but surprisingly good rambling since I've been in a writing mood thanks the beauty that is Journey. So here. 1000-something words of nonsense in code. There's a particular lack of polish, but eh, I don't really care. It's fine as raw as it is, probably.

Edit: Well, this is funny. I finally copy this over to my computer and I realize I typed out folklore as forelore. And no, that's not a thing. Three reviews and apparently no one else noticed...

She had chosen it on a whim. He just wanted to taunt some poor bastards with the thought of an associate that was hiding out among the commoners.

Fox.

It hadn't taken long to realize how well it fit. A sly creature of folklore fully capable of outsmarting those who were not paying attention, and even those that were. Soon enough, she had a porcelain mask resembling the creature, and she was free to come out on missions without fear. It had been fun seeing their expressions upon seeing her.

He had chosen it to strike fear in the hearts of others.

Crow.

A harbinger of death that flies through the air, grounded only by his own hand. A creature that is underestimated for its smarts and is simply thought of as a nuisance; a trickster like his partner.

The fox sometimes wished she could be as free as the crow, but he assured her time and again that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Grounded as she was allowed her to be safe and unseen, a priority to him. Still, it left her worried that one day he would take flight and never return again. Every day she inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when he came back to her, and the world could return to the way it was.

Fox had started it. The crow had been panicking. An alarm was raised, the target locked away where they could not access, and every exit was sealed. They had never screwed up this badly before.

She had reached out to him and, in the secret language they had developed, one for when silence was absolutely necessary, tapped, 'Fox loves Crow.'

It was so simple, yet so effective.

It carried with it the promise that everything was going to be alright. That, no matter what, she would not allow anything to happen to him if she was still standing. He had looked up to her in confusion, wondering if she really meant it when she said love, or if it was just to get the point across that she cared. For the moment, however, it did what she had been trying to do, and so he left it until they had gotten out.

She denied it, of course, that she had truly meant love. And of course, he had believed her.

But still, it became a common occurrence between them, to make use of the language for reassurance more than actual communication. It was a comfort to hear that one loved the other, even if they believed it not to be the love they were searching for from their crush and that it was simply there in place of something longer and harder to spell out.

Fox was always afraid. Crow could not be taken down, not out in the field. He was too fast, too slippery. Yet he insisted on staying with her for long periods in her little cave. He was less fast, less slippery in the cave. He was comfortable, slow and happy. She didn't want anything to happen to him. She didn't want him to get caught with her. He didn't want it either. But both equally didn't want him to leave. If she were to ever bring it up, the idea that he should, for his own safety, leave the neat he had built, he would grow angry, drive her away with loud caws and wildly flapping wings. Later, he would appear in her room, sit down beside her in the corner, and tap out, 'Crow loves Fox.' It would take a while, but she would return the gesture.

The next day, they would pretend that nothing had occurred. It was useless talking about it. They both knew how a talk on the subject would go; they had witnessed it just the other day.

So they ignored it.

And they were both fine with it.

When the fox heard that the crow was in love with someone, she thought that she needed to be happy. If he was happy, she was. Right?

Still, she had looked at him and asked if he was in love with this individual that he didn't know nearly as well or for as long. He had stuttered, unsure of how anyone got ahold of the information. Something about that infuriated her. So she ran.

She ran so fast that she missed the heartbroken look he had given her.

For the next couple days, she hid in an unfamiliar cave. She didn't like it at all. It felt wrong, to be out of the comfort zone she had been allowed to never leave until that day.

When the one that informed her that Crow loved another had appeared, spouting that he was wrong, she was skeptical. Like he would admit he was wrong.

But he had insisted, and so she rushed to the lair of the one Crow served, aware he was about to do battle with the big bad alpha wolf, and his chances of survival were not looking too good.

She reached him just a bit too late.

But he was not dead, much to her relief. In fact, he only had a couple cuts. The alpha had given up, allowed him to take what he had wanted.

Still, she had said it. Fox really did love Crow. Crow didn't believe her. It didn't make sense to his mind. But she assured him it was the truth.

After the nightmare was truly over, he looked up to her, told her he didn't need what he had stolen from the pack. With a smile on his face, he told her he loved the way that she thought. The alpha's lair was gone in an instant, nothing but rubble in its wake.

There was little reason for their secret language after that. They were accepted for helping remove the alpha from power. In fact, they were hailed as heroes. There was no need for sneaking around, and for quiet reassurance. They could boast their love to the heavens and they would only get a mild scolding for disturbing the peace.

Still, on the rare occasion, they could be spotted tapping out messages to each other.

The most common?

'Crow loves Fox' and 'Fox loves Crow.'

You know, this is the closest I've ever come to writing a PlaguexMona fic? Well, start with code, and work up from there, I guess. Still, it's funny because this is the only pairing I've ever truly let myself become invested in, so you would expect me to write proper love stories or something. But I don't and it honestly confuses even me sometimes.

Anyway, for some reason I liken Mona to a fox given that I like to think she's sneaky and sly, isn't much for pack mentality, and wouldn't hesitate to bite if someone she didn't like got too close. I've always kinda thought that, and I don't know when I started thinking it. But it's popped up a couple times in the stories that will never see the light of day, so I guess it's good to finally get a story out that does include that. And the secret language I like to think they would use out on a stealth mission. I like to think that the thumb acts as a space or changing to a new letter, and the other four fingers are used for letters. It wouldn't be too fast, but they would memorize particular simple phrases that they would practice and be able to say and respond to quickly.