Green
The well-forged arms of Boar the Fighter seemed to be coming together again.
In a locked chest.
Buried- beneath small tapestries, an extra quilt or two from the loving paws of Columbine, and the odd trinket bestowed upon him by various Dibbuns.
Three of them now.
He couldn't bear to look at them. Wouldn't touch them. Couldn't swallow their nearness to him now any more than when they were pressed into his paws.
A surprising gift from the shrews- what use has he for Log-a-Log's dagger?
But he smiles. A gift given in good will mustn't be turned down.
A gift given of a friend passed on to Dark Forest must certainly be cherished.
And Dinny himself pressed his straight into your paws.
There are two now. Only two.
He felt when Gonflet- Gonff, Son of Gonff and Columbine, he corrected- winced, turning his head away when the chest slammed shut and the lock clinked clearly in the dim room. He left the younger creature to sit there, leaving his chambers in icy silence.
"Martin!" The voice froze him. His body twisted, but the stormy eyes didn't rise to face the creature so like the lost one. "Don't leave us to handle this alone. Don't distance yourself from us."
The green eyes flashed full of despair, the paw shaking.
"No."
"Take it, Martin."
"No."
The blade clattered against the floor partway between them.
Columbine in the doorway, sobbing.
The green pommel seemed to twinkle from the stones.
"I… I need time. And space."
"And we'll give it to you," Columbine's paw was warm in his own, and the younger Gonff placed a steady arm about his shoulders. "But promise you won't shy away from us.
The green pommel seemed to twinkle from the stones.
"I promise."
He embraced them. Loosely, at first, an arm about each of them and his eyes dully staring through the open door to his bedroom.
The green pommel seemed to twinkle from the stones.
And he crushed them in a hug, pressing them close, feeling the pair of heartbeats humming close to his own.
