A/N: Not really much to say, other than here's another chapter. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I think it's quite obvious I don't own Two Kinds. Don't make the mistake of assuming that, okay?
We managed to get quite a bit of traveling down today, if I do say so myself. Most of the time – however – was our group of four traversing the wild in silence- other than a panicked shout from Flora early on, but looking back to her just showed her stuffing something into her shirt and running to catch up. The rest of the time?
Nothing. I'm beginning to think that this is going to be a normal occurrence, although I can't really complain. Something tells me that if everyone does start to converse, it'll end up with Keith getting pissy about Flora – again – and whatever tense peace I managed to help make would end up breaking. So I guess silence is the better of the two evils, in this case.
Not too awfully long ago, the sun started to set- sending the sky into it's orange-violet spectrum and Keith saying something – the first words for hours – about finding a spot to break for camp. Outwardly, I just replied with a 'whatever you say, fuzzball' – which he hated – while inwardly my legs were screeching for an end to it all. But that's neither here nor there, currently.
What is current,is when we made camp, I discovered that I wasn't really meant for this kind of adventuring life.
"..."
"...It's a tent?" Keith – who just finished whipping something up with the rations we had – said, looking at the thing in front of us with a shocked look.
"Just say it- it's terrible."
"...Yeah," He gives me a look like he gave up, himself. "It's terrible."
"Hey, are you guys alright..." I hear Flora trot up next to me, her words trailing off as she notices the mess in front of us. "Is... that supposed to be a tent?"
I don't say anything, but my shoulders sag a bit at her incredulous tone. Keith pokes the... tent with one of his weird foot-paws and-
-the whole thing collapses, now just a pile of cloth, sticks and string.
"..."
"..."
"...I'm going without a tent." I turn on the ball of my feet and stomp back to the fire, where Trace is currently eating some sort of salted meat – I think it's beef? – and plant myself on a fallen log across from him.
I look inside the pot – I have no clue where Keith keeps this thing – and see some rations mixed with some sort of herb. As to what it is, I can barely recognize what some stuff was back home, let alone what could grow in a place where there's cat people and magic.
Oh, and I guess there's Keith, too. Whatever he is.
I go through the motions of eating my portion of the food as the two non-humans of the group walk back to the fire- Flora sitting with Trace and Keith with me. While I eat – read; ravage – my meal, I can't help but notice the... divide between the group. I can see the negative looks being cast by Keith towards Flora, and the nervous ones that both blue-haired human and tiger send towards us.
Yes, that includes me, but I'll just write it off as being new. The ones at Keith, however...
Yeah. No need to explain that.
It's a bit too quite – bordering on awkward – and I think up of something as I polish off my food.
"So," My voice is loud as it breaks the silence. "You did pretty good with the meal, fuzzball. It's almost like you did this for about four years or so." The jab is pretty obvious, but snark is really all I have at this point to get Keith to talk. Speaking of, he turns to me – glancing at my empty hands, devoid of any food – and scowls at me.
"What did I tell you about that nickname?" If it's even possible, he scowls harder.
"That you love it so much to where you decided to make it your official name?" I can't help the small, shit-eating grin that crawls on my face. Keith breaks my previous expectations and manages to pull off a 'bitch face', even with his strange-looking one.
I hear the two across the fire snickering. It's better than the quiet that we had before- much better. Three out of the four people who were tense now have smiles on their faces, and I can find a way to make Keith feel better later.
But now, I rather have my questions answered.
"Now that we're all nice and loose," I stretch a bit, settling as best as one can on a log. "How about we have that talk you promised me?"
Really, though, I can only guess as to what is going on with all this keidran business. As far as I know, they're not human – that a certain redhead pointed out – and that people refer to them as 'dangerous animals' – thanks to a certain fuzzball – which... doesn't exactly paint a pretty picture. As to what extent the ugliness goes, well...
Hence the talk.
All of the people around the fire – excluding Trace; he has a touch of understanding on his face as he looks at me – seem to just look at me with a 'what am I going to do with you' look. However, slowly, both Trace and Keith's gazes settle on Flora. Said tiger woman gives each of them a look, then sighs.
"Alright, so... Dawn?" At my nod, she keeps going. "How much do you know about keidrans?"
"Well, all I know about them is that you're one, but that's really it," I think about it, then add another tidbit. "And I guess Keith doesn't like being called one."
"Okay..." She looks like she has to psych herself up for talking. "I'll give you the basics. There are three different types of keidran: felines, canines and vulpines. Normally, they represent the three major territories – and variants – of keidrans, which are the tigers, the wolves, then the foxes. There are other smaller territories, but I don't know much about them..." Flora tries to add on to what she says, but something seems to stop her.
"Is there something wrong?" I ask, at first only getting silence. Trace scoots closer to her on the log, placing a hand on her shoulder- which she leans into. Taking a deep breath, she continues.
"I-I'm fine. But the relationship between humans and keidrans are... hostile." She stops there, like it answers everything. Everyone is looking at me, gauging me, but I could already guess that part.
"I get the hostile part, but how hostile are we talking, here? Second class citizens? Segregation? Illegal immigrants?"
Both Flora and Keith give me an skeptical look at that one. Trace, on the other hand, looks a bit curious himself.
"You really don't know?" When I shake my head, she glances at Keith, who only shrugs.
"Humans enslave keidrans; they always have."
My thoughts break, just like last night. Every part of me wants to go slack while another wants to keep going to ask something else. It feels like an eternity before curiosity brings me back up.
"And... nobody does anything about it?" The question seems to confuse her.
"Well, a lot of humans participate in it-"
"No, no," I'm leaning closer towards the tiger woman, not caring of the smoke from the campfire blowing in my face. "Does nobody do anything about getting rid of it?"
"No." Keith answers my question, and is starting to cast me worried looks.
Nonetheless, the response floors me- I lean back, trying to keep myself together because what the actual fuck. Isn't slavery a national crime on life itself? I remember there being a statement being said that any form of modern slavery – trafficking, I think – is very much not supposed to be around, anymore.
But they're not human. It's in human nature to demonize things, and when the thing you're trying to dehumanize isn't human...
"Oh, god..." I put my hands on my face, curling into myself a bit. Despite the fire right in front of me, I can't help but feel cold.
"What?" I peer through my hands, and Flora looks so confused. Was she a slave once? Did she have to deal with all of that- why nobody can seem to trust each other. I've always kept my distance, thinking that I might be the problem- could she be thinking I was-
Slow down, Dawn. Just... keep talking.
"Well," I take a breath, trying to not make it shudder as it comes out. "I... back home, stuff like this is illegal. It's been outlawed for over a century." Now it's their turn to look shocked, the looks only making that cold feeling worse.
I'm so far away from home, and staying here longer only makes the feeling cement further. It's like traveling back in time, and all the elements of doing so is here to screw with everything. Ugh, Danny would hate this place-
I shove the thought – and the feelings from this entire info dump – to the side, and I clap my hands together- which startle everyone present.
"Well, stuff like this is a bit too depressing, if you ask me," I sit up straight, wiggling a bit to try and get comfortable. "We're supposed to be going on an adventure, yeah? So how about we act like it, instead of getting all mopey and shit." I lean back in with a grin on my face.
"Anyone got any drinks?"
Turned out that both Trace and Keith – guess he likes to loosen up sometimes, too – had a bit of drink on them, pulling out mugs and filling them up to begin the night- this time with a less depressing atmosphere. I gladly accepted the ale, if only for the side effect of relaxing a bit. Sadly, I had to practically down the entire thing of the stuff in order to get even a hint of a buzz to start. Thankfully, everyone present – besides fuzzball, of course – participated in some form of idle chitchat, which made forgetting what happened earlier all the easier.
Currently, I'm holding back my snickers at Flora's state of mind. Keith made a comment of keidrans getting drunk easily off of 'human ale' – real creative of them – which translates to basically the entire species being lightweights.
"Hah, I just notif'd how funny you humans look without fur on." Speaking of the tiger, Flora is leaning heavily on Trace, intently – drunkenly – studying his face. Said human has a fish-out-of-water look, sitting completely still as the feline laughs and hugs him.
The duo have gotten awfully comfortable, as time went on. They sat close before, and while they seemed friendly towards one another, now one is literally climbing over the other. It's almost like-
"Hey Flora," Keith suddenly speaks up. "How do you really feel about all of us?" Flora turns to look at him, but has to detach herself from Trace in order to do so. When she does this she sways a bit then steadies herself.
"Huh? Wellsh, I likes Trace. He's nice to me, not like other humans. Exshept for you, Dawn," She sluggishly blurts out. "Yous a cool human, too. I know humans an' keidran aren't s'pose to get along, bu' I can't help it." She takes a second, feeling satisfied with her slurred speech, then seems to remember something.
"...oh, an' you? Umm... you're kinda a jerk."
I snort at that part, which turns into a laugh when I see the offended look on Keith's face. Guess he got what he deserved there- Flora's brutally honest, in that regard. Although the 'cool' comment got me- I don't really see why-
Oh yeah, the photo. Duh.
After that part was said and done, Trace – like the little oblivious gentleman he is – escorted Flora to her tent. The little outburst where Flora 'seductively' tempts him got me laughing again and wow I haven't laughed like this in a long time-
The laughter trails off when I see the look on Keith's face.
"Hey, what's with the constipated look?" The fuzzball wipes the look off of his face – how does he do it so quickly? – and faces me with a questioning one.
"You don't find it weird how... close those two are?" He downs more of his ale, him having savored the bitter stuff unlike me.
"Well, yeah. But it's not like it's my business what they do behind closed doors, yeah? I mean, I've never seen keidran before today, but it's probably a normal-ish thing here, right?" I go to drink from my cup before remembering that – oh yeah – I drank it all, already.
"No. It's definitely not a normal thing." A smirk – accompanied by an eyeroll – followed my failed attempt to drink from my mug, then he takes another drink himself.
"Well," I set the mug into my pack, which I dragged over when the drinks came out. "More power to them, then. As I said- it's not my business."
As I sit there – Keith scoffing at my answer, but not saying anything in return, the jerk – I begin to feel the alcohol start to kick in, and I feel the urge to not sit in one place. I stand up and start walking towards what I think is a good are to go-
"Hey, where are you going?" I look back to see Keith giving me a look.
"Don't get your panties in a twist- I'm just going to walk off the alcohol."
"I'm... pretty sure that's not a thing." He just gives me another one of those looks. Well screw him, I'm a big girl- I can go for a walk without having someone glued to my side.
"Whatever, I'm not going too far, so don't worry- 'cause I know you secretly do, fuzzball." With a smirk sent at him – and a scowl received – I turn back towards the woods before me. Now...
Well, as I walk into the brush, I feel a shudder form and crawl down my back as I let out a shaky breath. A cool breeze rushes through, and whatever heat that I had – from the drinks, the clothes warmed from the fire – is gone with the wind.
Now, I can think alone.
Somewhere in the trees...
A cool spring breeze brushes by, and despite everything that is covering me I can't help but shiver. I could be resting right now, but the weather could be worse to stay up in. However, the mission I am on requires me to stay just out of sight, watching where the group of four as they slowly drag themselves into their tents for the night. It was going along smoothly, and half of them – including Flora – had went to sleep already. All I had to do was wait until the rest do the same, wake up Flora, and leave the rest up to her. Usually, this would've been over quick enough for me to leave and bring back up the plans for Flora and I's wedding, all of this mess being left behind.
Usually, unfortunately, doesn't fit right now.
The more I pay attention to the happenings of the night, the more... confusing it gets. The biggest part being the other human – this one female – not acting like any human he has ever met. One thing he has learned is that any human – no matter what – will always have some animosity towards his kind. There will always be a human that will look at keidrans and think them nothing but animals. This human, however, claims to be a foreigner – wherever she was from is beyond him – and has never heard of a keidran.
When I remember looking at her face when Flora told her that humans commonly enslave our kind, she looked shocked, revolted, and angry-
I silently shove the thought to the side as I prepare to move. Some time after Flora was taken to a tent, said human went off for a walk. I don't know who she is, but every time I look at her I get this chill crawling up my back, like... something is wrong.
I need to keep an eye on this one, even if I delay his death.
Quietly leaping from branch to branch, I trail after her. None of the other people accompanying Flora discovered me, this human not even checking for anyone stalking her. I guess the comment of her not being from around here hold some merit. She is even struggling with trying to move through the brush!
Soon, she breaks through into a clearing and I have to stop myself before I run out of branches to hop. The break in the wood reveals a small, burbling creek with a gravel shore. On said shore is a lopsided tree, as if it still tried to grow despite the stones in the way. It was here, where the human finally stopped. On the way here, it was obvious that she was doing more than 'going for a walk', her pace increasing and her arms occasionally hugging herself when the brush didn't get in her way. Then she does...
Nothing. The human just stands there, her gaze looking to be fixated on the scene in front of her. She seems frozen in place, as if she suddenly turn into stone.
After a while of nothing but her standing, I turn back around to do as I came here to. It doesn't look like she's going to move anytime soon.
I watch as Flora – shocked expression still in place – turns back to the camp, the dagger gripped tightly in her hand. She walks with purpose, and I know that she is going to follow through with killing that templar bastard. I just wish that lying to her wasn't necessary- but if it ends with him dead, then it will be alright in the end. I move back into the trees, the boughs holding steady as I jump back away from the camp.
As I do that, my thoughts drift back towards the human that's not at the camp, currently. The more I think about her, the more that feeling seems to worsen- it's almost shouts danger, but I've seen her barely navigate a stretch of woods. It makes no sense-
"...sniff..."
I stop, my ears going straight up to locate the sound. Is... is that crying? It almost sound like...
Going off of where I heard it last – and my curiosity getting the better of me – I begin striding through the canopy. The closer I get to where I heard it, the more I hear, and it is definitely the sound of someone crying. Did some poor sod get lost, and finally broke-
I reach a familiar clearing, the one where I left the human standing at the shore. At first glance, nothing really seems to be out of place-
Except that she isn't standing anymore, instead curled up in the crook of the tilted tree. Her arms are wrapped around her legs, which are pulled up to her chest, with a small, thin object held in one hand.
Why is she there, now? I slowly climb down from the tree I perched on, landing onto the ground with a small thump. When I look up to see if she heard me, a breath leaves me in a sigh when she doesn't move-
Her shoulders shake slightly, and another sniffle escapes her. It was with this final tremor of her body, that the thing in her hand slipped from her hand, slowly drifting to the ground.
…
I shouldn't.
But... she said it herself, that she isn't from around here. And if Flora's drunken comment of her being alright when they first met-
No! Why am I thinking about talking to a human?! I'm having one getting killed somewhere behind me, and I'm thinking about walking up to this one? No, there's no way-
Another sob escapes her, and this time I hear words.
"I... hate this place, Danny..."
'Danny'? And what does she mean that she 'hates this place'?
Before I could stop myself – I've already messed up one woman, damn it – I've already started breaking the treeline.
"I... hate this place, Danny..."
It wasn't exactly my plan to do any of this- all of this moping was supposed to be that: moping. Not... all this sobbing. I guess being here was a lot more stressful than I thought.
Well, I did thought I died, at one point. Then that all went down the drain when I ended up in... Tekkan? Whatever this place is. And whatever this place is, it's the worst, in theory. I mean, mass slavery hasn't been around for a long ass time, and yet I ended up in a place where they enslaved an entire species that almost everyone hates with some sort of passion. Then there's the fact that the only thing that reminds me of home is coffee, and anything technological has yet to be seen and holy shit I'm so far away from home-
Another short sob breaks out, and I try to curl back in to rein in any more. Yeesh, I haven't been this bad since-
No. Don't go there, Dawn. Just... no.
I squeeze my hands together, only noticing the emptiness in my hand, where I held the photo. I... thought it would be good for me to partake in my hobby, and I tried to look for a place that looked well enough to be noteworthy. I stumbled upon this creek, and after taking a while to look it over I decided it was worth a shot. The lighting could've been better – it isn't the full moon – but there's enough light to capture everything.
And quite suddenly, all of the walls I put up to keep myself in one piece just... fell.
So here I am, curled up next to a tree while I wait for all of this to end because why did this place had to look so much like home-
Snap.
I whip my head up from behind my legs, looking around in the low light from the moon to try and find what made that sound-
...Oh. That's... new?
Standing in front of me, lightly bathed in moonlight, is a wolf. He – I think they're a guy – is standing on two legs and wearing clothes, and a small part of me reminds itself that this is also a keidran, if what Flora said is right. I can't tell much color, but the one thing that stands out is the eyes- an eerie glow of amber that seem to pierce right through me.
Oh, and he's holding a spear.
...Holy shit he has a weapon is he going to-
He walks closer, and before I could think I involuntarily curl in farther, never breaking contact with the amber orbs in front of me. But he never does anything violent, just walks close enough to where I could reach out and poke his weird paw-feet. When he does get that close, he pauses for a second, then reaches down with his free hand-
-and picks up the dropped photo. Slowly, he brings it up to his face, the unreadable expression from before turning into a jaw-drop the longer he observes the picture. He even looks up from the piece of film to look at the clearing, then back down to it.
I couldn't help but break out into a fit of giggles, of all things. One that brings the attention of the wolf back to me.
"S-Sorry," I take in a shaky breath, trying to push back down the earlier sobbing. "That look never gets old- the whole 'surprised wonder' one, that is."
The only response I get is a stare, and after a few moments of it I couldn't help but squirm under the intensity of it. Thankfully, he looks away to give the photo another once-over, then his furred hand extends the photo in my direction. I raise my own hand, but I hesitate for a second, then continue forwards-
-only to lightly push the hand back towards him.
"You can keep that one- I have enough of them to last me a while."
I feel a small part of me start to get annoyed at the surprise that stretches across his face – it's far too common here, it almost hurts – but he pulls his hand back, tucking the photo into his shirt. Again, he extends his hand, and I can see the sandy-gray color of the fur. Untangling myself from the fetal position, I grabbed the offered hand and – with a yelp that didn't come out of my mouth – I'm suddenly hoisted to my feet.
After brushing off my clothes, I head over to the creek to splash some water on my face. After that much crying, my face probably looks worse from how red it is. Well, that and the possible snot that was running down it. And the stuff probably got on my clothes...
I was thorough with the rinse, and when I turn back around I see the wolf still standing there. What followed was a small stretch of silence, where I only just realized that he hasn't spoken yet, and it feels wrong to just keep referring to him as 'wolf'. Thankfully – again – he speaks up for the first time.
"I normally don't do this, you know." The voice – one that's tinged with an unique accent – says, and an equally odd expression covers his canine visage.
What does he mean- oh.
"Oh, yeah, the whole... racism thing. That."
"Normally, I would have to... you know," He shakes the spear in his hand, then shrugs.
Oh. Yeah, it's a good thing he decided not to poke me. Viciously. With, like, a sharp poking stick-
Okay, alcohol, that's enough.
"Well, you could say you didn't see me," I throw out there. It's not the greatest escape plan, but working on being a bit tired and tipsy... yeah.
After a few moments of the conversation not moving forward, I sigh and step forward to put out a hand. He flinched a bit, angling the spear downwards slightly, then puts it back up to look at my hand.
"How about this; it's nice to have not met you..." I trail off at the lack of a name, waiting to see if he reciprocates.
It takes a while – and the frustration on his face is now visible, wow – before he puts out his own fuzzy hand, clasping it in mine. Or the other way around because holy shit his hands are huge compared to mine.
It's also so soft...
"Sythe," We shake hands, and I see a fanged grin come across his face. "Nice to have not met you..." He does the same trailing off.
I smile, saying, "Dawn." I start to pull back-
I see the confusion on his face, and there's a moment where the intensity of his glowing amber eyes reaches a new high-
"Dawn." And it's gone, back to that toothy smile.
...Okay. I'm too tired to question that. I give the wolf one last nod, then I start heading back towards the campsite, feeling lighter than when I walked out here.
It takes me a while to find my way back to the camp – if anything, the ale sets in more, and being darker than hell out doesn't help – I see the final embers of the campfire glowing in the center of the familiar clearing. A small part of me almost expected Keith to still be out here, waiting for me to come back to nag about how long it took for me to 'go on a walk', but there's nobody there-
-except a knife on the ground, along with a smattering of blood.
I'm only just noticing the way how everything is silent, like something went down and now there's nobody left-
I bolt to the knife, picking it up and start frantically looking around, but it's too dark to make out anything in the treeline.
"Hello? Anyone?! Guys?!" I can feel my heart starting to thump harder, my head on a swivel trying to find something-
"Up here!"
My head juts upwards, following the voice to...
"...Why are you in a tree?"
Yep. The one and only basitin is currently up in a tree, hanging on for dear life. If it wasn't for the fact that I thought I was in danger, the situation would look comical.
"Trace threw me up here then chased after that keidran!"
...Yeah, I'm just tired to deal with any of that noise. How about I deal with what's in front of me.
"Can you get down fine?"
"...Maybe?"
Good enough for me. I drop the knife and start heading back to my tent, then a tent off to the side from the... crumpled mass catches my eye. It's perfectly made, and doesn't look like a tap of an odd foot won't destroy it.
Well, you know what they say; lift your meat, you lose your seat.
"I'm going to take your tent!" I shout up to Keith as I snatch up my stuff, ignoring the protests shot down at me as I crawl inside my recently acquired den.
I tossed his stuff out- I'm not cruel, c'mon now.
I have mixed opinions about the rain.
The precipitation has a way of bringing out the best in some scenes, coating the area in saturation that makes thing... pop. The way light can reflect of off walls not normally disposed to bouncing off light, how it gives contrast after it washes off the dust of the suburbs, and so much more. It's honestly breathtaking, how a bit of water can change everything.
On the other hand, as I run through said shower without an umbrella, my shoes making soggy squish noises with every step, I can do with a little bit less of it when it gets everywhere. I try to pick up the already quick pace as I round the last bend, showing me the last stretch home. Said rain only seems to pick up even more, the wind making it look like it's raining directly in my face instead of on my head. The street has that look to it that I described earlier – the dark of the asphalt contrasted by the lights of the streetlamps – but honestly I can barely appreciate it before another gust of wind blows more water into my face.
I soldier on the last bit of distance, coming onto the fence gate that I have trouble unlatching, thanks to the shivering rain. Finally getting it open, I slam it closed behind me as I rush up to the front porch to escape the heavy shower.
The front porch isn't anything crazy, the only things decorating it a porch swing for two – three if we feel like pushing it – and the odd plant here and there. We would have more chairs for people coming over every now and then, but the only people that we tend to have over are friends of Ma and Papa, and such. No family reunions- the only ones we have are us, despite how odd we are at first glance.
But to me, it was always normal. The people who raised me were always that- Ma and Papa. Papa is my birth father, but my birth mother died when I was born. Suddenly, he had to end up juggling being a single father and grieve the loss of a loved one. Then, soon after – whether it was out of desperation turned lucky or was meant to be – he met Ma.
Ma, despite us looking nothing alike, is the best mother I could ask for. She had a job that was extremely well paying, and I've been told that the two meeting – Ma and Papa, that it – was something straight out of a romcom- complete with hilarious high-jinks and everything. Ma has dark skin – unlike mine or Papa's light tones – and her hair is always put into a dreaded bun of dark hair. Her eyes were something that I could say that we almost share, with me getting my birth mother's dark brown and not Papa's hazel.
Soon after the two married, they had a kid of their own, Danny. My own little brother, only two years younger than me. He has most of everything Ma has, and if someone were to put the two of us together they couldn't tell if we were related at all.
'Course, if any of those people were to spend some time with us, they would know the 'Underwood crass', as Papa likes to call it. It all comes from Ma – she is the true master of it – the two of us could put anyone who tries to act like they're the shit into their place.
I try to shake off as much of the water that's dripping off me as I unlock the door, stepping inside and wipe my soaked shoes onto the welcome mat. After a while I end up kicking off the things, along with the socks, onto the designated pile for wet footwear. Sighing, I skip going to the rest of the house and go straight to the stairs, climbing them two at a time while thanking the carpet on them for having good traction, unlike hardwood floors.
Reaching the top of the stairs, I turn to the closed door opposite of mine and knock.
"I'm home, Danny! How're ya?" I don't wait for a response as I head into the open room behind me- my room.
I set my soaked bag and satchel as I shut the door behind me, heading to the closet to change into something less water-logged. The room is painted in a warm brown, something that reminds me of a wood color and healthy earth. There are pictures – not posters, Papa, get it right – here and there, depicting some kind of art taken from a camera. There's one of a beautiful mountain lake, said mountain looming behind it in the background, while a lush field covers the foreground, and a clear blue sky to cover it all up. That one's my favorite, above all else.
Soon, I change out of the soaked items and into comfy, worn clothes. The tank top is a navy blue color, and I threw on some gray sweats.
'My transformation from hipster into trashy is complete.' I think jokingly.
Danny still hasn't responded, and I can't help but let out a huff. I love him to death, but the excuse for not going to school today was that he felt 'sick'. Honestly, it was the oldest trick in the book, but the act he put up was oddly convincing. He looked so pitiful...
I walk out into the hall to bang on his door again. "Hey bro, you alright? Need anything warm to help with your 'illness'." I couldn't help but smirk as I wait for his return jab, like always does.
…
The smirk slowly slides off as silence greets me. Even the fan he usually keeps on in his room – the air flow in his rooms sucks – is off.
"Alright, you better not be naked, Dan." I turn the knob on the door, throwing it open to-
-a strangely clean room. His room is damn-near spotless, and everything is put back where it was.
It was known that Danny has the messiest room, and to see it this clean without Ma threatening him sends a chill down my spine. He likes to paint a lot – as evidenced by the plethora of supplies in the corner – and there's always something spotted, somewhere. But there's not an area to be marked- everything is just so clean-
I spot a single piece of paper, laying almost innocently on his desk off to the side. There's something written on it, and it's the only thing that's out of place in this familiar-turned-alien room. I picked up the piece of paper and started to glance at it's contents.
A few seconds in, I grip the paper with both hands as I read faster.
A few minutes in, I have the letter in a death grip, my body shaking from an unseen tremor.
A few hours later, Ma came home to me blankly staring at the wall in Danny's room, eyes red from crying and face moist from tears still falling.
The letter was addressed in three parts, and the biggest one ended in words that broke me.
'To the best big sister anyone could ask for.'
Could anyone blame me for breaking, after all; you never know how much you love something until it's gone. Gone...
A/N: It's a bit shorter than before, but it's also where some changes occur. Said changes are obvious, if you have read the older version of this story. As for how the changes make the story different, well you have to wait on that one.
On the bright side, got a reviewer here!
TigerWarrior1998: I like to think that the differences are there thanks to the change in point of view, and having Sythe's pov is a thing. I think that his thought process would be more... refined, seeing how he was a diplomat before he got shoehorned into a soldier, and before that into marrying Flora as a political move. As for the same story, different look, well... no. Things have changed overall, and I couldn't implement them before without going in and replacing the entire story, so I just left it there for whom it may concern, and have this one be similar, yet fundamentally different. In the end, this isn't going to be the same story, sorry if that rubs ya the wrong way.
And so that concludes the end of this chapters author's notes. For those people who don't read responses to reviews, and have read the previous story and want some answers now, then I highly suggest reading the response for some insight.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed, and have a good one!
P.S: Why is it a natural thing to do; having terrible things happen to your characters? I mean, the answer is most likely 'plot device', but if those people were real... it makes my head shudder uncontrollably. No, not because of Rom, either. Rom's different.
