WASSUP YALL I LOVE THIS CHAPTER AND I HOPE YOU DO TOOOOOO
The exit from the jungle was the exact opposite from their entrance.
None of the monkeys were visible, or even audible. The trek through the trees was loud, nearly violently so, and as Sunset supported Link along the way, he noticed that Spitfire stayed much closer to him than she normally did.
He swallowed, watching her turn her head this way and that, golden eyes searching the trees. Ahead of her, Mania led the way, his tail twitching every once in a while.
He wanted to reach out and touch her; at his side, his fingers twitched with the urge. He was warm all over, as if the heat in his soul had spread throughout his whole body. It grew as he took in the sway of her hair, her hips, the light golden skin that shone so freely--
"Stop drooling on me," Sunset hissed, smacking his arm. Link jerked and glared at her. "Shut up, I wasn't drooling," he muttered.
"Liar."
"Shut up."
"Then why is my arm wet, huh? Just stop salivating over--"
"Shut up."
Sunset smirked, having gotten a sufficient reaction from him, and faced forward again. Link willed the heat in his face to dissipate, trying not to hunch as Spitfire turned her head a little further, locking gazes with him from the corner of her eye. Her lips curved slightly before facing the front again.
Link swallowed, fighting a grin, and Sunset, watching this, rolled her eyes and pretended to gag.
Ahead, Mania flicked his tail twice. The sun splintered through the treetops, and as the opening to the jungle loomed, the sounds of more anima neared. Soon they stood in a bright open field, the very same as the day before, and yet it was nearly unrecognizable.
Anima were all over the place, in the watering holes, grazing in the grass, and they watched Link's group exit the jungle through narrowed eyes. Some didn't particularly care and went back to their business, others watched them closely, wondering if they were predators, and still others crept through the grass, golden eyes fixated on them.
Mania's tail flicked once before he set off. He led the way through the grass, and the more skittish anima fled. Link's heart slammed against his ribcage, eyes flicking over the assembled anima, and Sunset was tense under him. Spitfire walked as confidently as ever, head held high, and it wasn't until they had passed by the last watering hole, the brown eyes of a hippo watching them balefully, that Link was able to breathe easily again.
Soon they had retraced their path to the river, leaving the jungle behind, and Mania's tail had begun flicking again. With a quiet word to Sunset, Link slipped out from under her arm and tapped his thigh.
Spitfire looked at him through the corner of her eye, meeting his gaze for a split second. She huffed a deep sigh, clearing her throat halfway through. Her head turned to the right this time, scanning the woods on the other side of the river.
Beside him, Sunset shoved her hands into her dress pockets. The hem had become fringed during their journey, and was torn in many places. She scuffed the toe of her shoe against a root, tapping it twice as she passed over it.
Ahead, Mania let out a low rumble and turned to the left, away from the river. On the other side, as they trooped away, leaves crunched slightly. Sunset met Link's gaze, and his hand slipped down to his knife.
As they veered from the river, the silence dragged on--tense, loaded, filled with an uncertain surety. Minutes passed like this, until Link looked ahead of them, at the bend in the river.
In the distance, heat waves distorted his vision, but Link thought he saw a black shape leap across the water, where the bend was most narrow. He squinted, but then it was gone, and he pushed his tongue into his teeth.
They had been followed. That much was obvious. And it hadn't been Black Sage, either. The form was too long, from what he'd seen, and the scent unfamiliar.
So who?
The question nagged at all of their minds as they walked further into plains territory, and soon, as the sun began its descent, the heat waves shimmered into blurry shapes. Darting forward, leaping back. Link squinted, wondering if the heat was getting to him, but he couldn't quite make it out.
It was a moment later that a roar split the air.
It was faint, nearly lost in the scuffing of his shoes in the grass, but it was enough. He stopped dead, looked at Spitfire, at Mania, who stared into the distance, eyes wide.
And it was in the next moment that the four of them burst into movement.
Their stalker wasn't lost from their minds; rather, it was at the very forefront, powering the fear that drove them forward, made them strive to reach the fight that was erupting before their very eyes.
The heat waves dissipated abruptly and completely, and behind them the battlers were strikingly clear.
Cheetahs versus the lions, coalition against pride. It was Spitfire's worst fear realized, and as she burst onto the scene, she let out a sharp chirp, her eyes wide and filled with horror.
Link shoved himself in front of her as a tumbling lion went past, snarling at the cheetahs that hounded him. The lions had an advantage--the cheetahs could not take on a lion by themselves, so they resorted to double-and-sometimes-triple-teaming the lions.
It worked, but not enough.
Link took in the scene and was about to leap forward, when Spitfire let out a strangled growl and pushed past him. He barked sharply and grabbed her leg in his teeth, wincing as pain shot through his soul
Let her go let her go let her go his mind screamed at him, Spitfire snarled at him, but he couldn't, not when he could lose her for good--
A thunderous roar made the entire battle shudder, but not stop, and Link slowly let go of Spitfire's leg, his eyes fixed, as hers were, on the center of the battle. Spitfire trembled as she watched a massive lion, its mane voluminous and golden like its fur, throw a cheetah almost as large as he was to the dirt.
A flash of light, and-- "Father!"
No--
Link dashed forward and pushed Spitfire to the ground, snarling, hoping his desperation showed in his gaze. She glared at him, her eyes filled with tears. Ahead, in the battle, the cheetah rose and snarled before launching an attack.
Spitfire heard the answering roar and struggled to rise, but Link nosed her down again. Don't, he begged. Stay here, with me. Safe.
He whined low, but this only made Spitfire turn her face away. She ground her teeth, glaring at the fight, ignoring Sunset's efforts to get her on her feet. On Link's other side, Mania had been patrolling their group, warding off attackers, but then--
He roared, rearing up on his hind feet, shaking wildly. Two cheetahs hung from his back, teeth buried in his shoulders. Link snarled and tackled one, sending it to the drt, and it bared its teeth at him before it pounced.
A heavy paw batted it away, earning its attention, and Link used that excuse to join Mania in fending off the other cheetah. As they did so, and Sunset and Spitfire's argument turned to a screaming match, Link felt the chaos bear down on him, like a dozen needles pricking him from every direction, and his body screamed at him to get to Spitfire before something happened--
Behind the fight, a shadow rose from the ground, golden eyes showing the amusement the face could not. Unbeknownst to anyone, the anima slipped into the fight.
Spitfire's father let out a growl so low it rumbled in Link's chest, even at his distance, and as he looked up, a lion glanced at them and shifted.
"Mania!"
His first shout was nearly lost, but another lion heard it, and then a cheetah heard the second, and soon it had spread throughout the fight. It ground to a halt, soon with every anima's gaze fixed on Link's group.
Mania shook his mane and stepped in front of the group, who huddled together. Link pressed close to Spitfire, huffing at her. She'd shifted back into her anima form along with Sunset, and the three of them looked around at the coalition and pride pressing close, shuffling even closer together.
Spitfire's father and who Link now assumed to be Blazing Sun had stopped battling, but even despite this, the tension had risen to a fever pitch. They glared at one another before Blazing Sun huffed and padded away--towards Mania.
Link held his breath. The lion was massive, at least twice Mania's size, and his golden eyes intimidated every anima he passed, whether lion or cheetah. He stopped before the group, those eyes flicking between Mania and Spitfire. He growled.
It was all too obvious what he expected, but Mania did not budge. Blazing Sun's eyes narrowed. He put a paw forward and growled again. Mania still did not move, not even an inch.
The growl rose into a snarl, and yet--
Link stared at Mania, a dozen emotions swirling in his chest. Was he just protecting Spitfire from the lions' wrath? Was he protecting all of them? Dare Link think that Mania, during their journey, had begun to consider them--
Blazing Sun's snarl rose into a full-blown roar, so loud it made the other anima turn their ears back, so loud Link could feel it reverberate in his bones, so demanding he felt it, the instinctive urge to lower himself before this great anima.
Predator, was the word his mind conjured.
He shook with the effort, but Mania--Mania had not budged, his eyes blazing. He set his paws and lowered his shoulders, his lips pulling back from his teeth--
If Link had been human, he'd have gasped.
And if Link had been human, he might have missed what came next.
The move was so sudden he only just caught it. Blazing Sun took in the expression, the body language, and leapt forward with a roar so loud it put all others to shame. In a moment Mania was gone, his shoulder clasped in Blazing Sun's teeth. He was dragged to the center of the plain, though not without a fight.
He set his paws in the dirt, snarling through the pain, even as blood leaked from the wound. He managed to twist out of his leader's grip and blood sprayed, splattering the ground, and matched Blazing Sun's roar with one of his own.
Spitfire chirped and darted forward, but both Sunset and Link grabbed her, sandwiching her between them. She shook, her eyes fixed on Mania.
He was putting up an impressive fight. The two lions were a golden blur on the field, and though Blazing Sun outranked him in size, strength, and stamina, he was on the receiving end of more than a few wounds. He had ignited Mania's rage, and was feeling the full force of it.
Mania, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to the numerous wounds he was accumulating. Blood streaked his sides and face from Blazing Sun's claws, and yet he leapt forward again and again, his face set in an expression of feral fury. He batted at Blazing Sun's face and backed up on his hind legs. Blazing Sun shot forward and tackled him, and they wrestled on the dirt, and even as Link watched, a scent shot up his nose, and he let out a sharp bark, knowing it was too late, just as an arrow slammed into--
Mania roared and lurched forward, sending Blazing Sun sprawling and the arrow into the dirt, inches from the pride leader. Mania got to his feet, panting heavily, bleeding from several injuries. Link panted, out of fear, of adrenaline, of anticipation. And perhaps there was a bit of confusion too, and suspicion. Why had Mania stood up to his leader? A move like that could get him exiled from the pride.
But all of these things fled Link's mind as Blazing Sun stared at the arrow, at Mania, and the two anima tribes behind him cautiously maneuvered into their tribes. The clearing was silent, much as it had been for the fight, caught in the throes of shock and fear as it was. Blazing Sun shifted in a flash of light, and Link took that as a sign. He and his group shifted as well, and pulled Spitfire to her feet, huddling together, looking through the treetops for the archer, though no shadow was to be seen, and anyway, Blazing Sun had approached.
Even in human form, Mania let out a growl. His leader spared him a glare, then turned to Spitfire. Her hand latched onto Link's, fingers threading through tightly as if to stop their trembling. She swallowed.
"So you have returned."
Spitfire swallowed again, and rasped, "To a war, it seems."
Blazing Sun was indifferent. "It matters not. You are back. Last King."
The bedraggled cheetah who'd fought Blazing Sun approached, and though he was wounded in several spots, he walked with his head high, his steps sure and strong. Spitfire let out a noise and clenched around Link's.
"Dad," she whispered, stepping forward. "What--what happened?"
It was obvious what she spoke of. As if in answer, the anima tribes in the clearing shuffled apprehensively. A few cheetahs let out hisses to nearby lions, and several of them snarled softly back.
Tension rose in the air like a thick blanket. Something was coming, Link could feel it. He pressed close to Spitfire as her father seemed to deflate on himself, and looked behind him, at a group of cheetahs that hadn't moved.
At his look, they stepped back, revealing a cheetah lying on its side I a puddle of blood. It was on the small side, with half-closed red eyes, and darker-than-normal spots.
It hit him like a brick, and he felt a shudder go through him. But it was nothing to Spitfire's reaction.
She sucked in a strangled breath, her hand falling from Link's grip. He closed his eyes as pain shredded down his soul, as a scream unlike anything he'd ever heard rip from Spitfire's throat.
She ran from him, and Link fell to his knees, clutching his chest. He panted for breath even as Spitfire screamed again, the sound full of the deepest pain. He glanced through half-lidded eyes and saw her at the cheetah's side, her hands pressing to his side.
Black fluttered through his vision; when it faded, her hands came away red. There were hands on him, a voice in his ear, but he couldn't hear it, could only let out a low, guttural groan as blades of fire filetted his soul, and the bond that entwined with it.
Link felt cold, but his body was on fire, burning, and he swallowed the nausea that rose up. Pushing away the hands batting at him, he staggered to his feet, his gaze fixed on the tear-streaked cheetah ahead of him.
He could hear her now. Hear her pleading, begging to stay with her, please.
I'm trying, he tried to say, but a choked gasp came out instead.
He made it almost to her side before he collapsed, and the last thing he saw was her golden gaze on him, the agony in her expression sending ripples of pain down his soul, and then he was gone.
Zelda stared at him, hardly aware of the crowd observing it all, but then a wet cough sounded, and she jerked her head back to Sheik.
His red eyes stared into hers, blurring into a smear, and Zelda blinked hard. "Please," she begged, to whom, she didn't know. "Please, stay."
A sharp gasp slipped out of her, and she pressed her hands to the wounds in Sheik's side. They looked like slashes, but she couldn't be sure--and they bled, and she could see black in them--
She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood, and searched inside for her power. She felt it answer her questing mind, lend itself to her desperate fingers, and she saw in her blurry vision a golden glow begin to spread outward.
More, her mind demanded. She could feel the virus, seeping into Sheik's bloodstream, and his side rose and fell just so under her hands, and with it Zelda's breathing increased with fear.
She sucked in a deep breath through her nose. I need more.
It came to her, undulating like pure sunshine, beating away the virus, but--but it lashed out, fighting her--
More! She screamed, and she couldn't tell if it had been aloud or not. She was only aware of her power, how it flooded through her body and out of her hands, and of Sheik's body, how it became the battleground of life and death. She could not tell who was winning anymore.
She closed her eyes, feeling cold spread from inside. More, more, I need more, she chanted, and felt the virus balk. It was fighting, but not as strong.
It's not enough.
She ground her teeth as the cold spread further, and now she could not hear the voices that called her name, could not feel the hands that pressed into her shoulders. She couldn't feel anything beyond the warmth at her fingertips, but even that was fading now, but that was fine, because the virus was retreating, it was dying--
Just a little more, and if her voice had been a scream earlier, it was but a whisper now. A breath.
Her body was numb, her ears full of cotton. She tensed herself and pushed for just a little more, and as it left her fingers in a last burst, she felt a sigh leave her lips, and all of a sudden, sound returned in a crash.
"Spitfire!"
"What did she do?"
"By the Holy Three--"
And then-- "NO! You swore--!"
A sound of flesh hitting flesh and roaring, and then she couldn't hear anything.
Sunlight and whispers woke her.
Zelda cracked her eyes open, feeling as if weights held them closed. She squinted at the searing sunlight, mouth twisting into a grimace, and even those small motions left her with no energy.
She tried to sit up, eyes half-closed against the sunlight--it couldn't be midday, could it?--and found her muscles were leaden. A groan slipped out before she could stop it, cracked and hoarse.
The bushes somewhere in her periphery rustled just before a familiar face popped through, and Zelda nearly cried at the sight of it. It turned back and said something, dull and muffled to Zelda's ears, and then there was another, bursting through the foliage, golden eyes concerned.
A sigh slipped from Zelda upon seeing him, and she felt herself grow warm--had she been cold?--as he drew close to her side. His hand grasped hers, and she saw, through heavily-lidded eyes, his own eyes narrow at it. Then he began rubbing it, trying to coax some feeling into it before turning to her face again.
Zelda tried to summon a smile for him, but a twitch of her lips was all she could manage. But he noticed anyway, could sense it somehow, and he gave her a smile of his own. One hand raised to her face, and she let out a tiny breath as his warmth ghosted over her skin.
Funny, she considered, that only when his heat found her did she realize how cold she'd been.
"Howler."
That smile dimmed ever so slightly, those golden eyes becoming just so haunted. He turned, and Zelda tried to follow, to see the anima from before watching them grimly. "We have business, if you recall?"
Howler's lips twitched with words unspoken, but he nodded. However, he didn't move from Zelda's side, even moved closer, and Zelda's father's frown deepened. Rhoam came closer as well, perching on the edge of Zelda's cot, and as lucidity returned, memory followed, to jarring effect.
It crashed down on her, erasing the warmth Howler had restored to her, and she felt the panic, the fear, the crushing agony of seeing her family fighting, dying--
A hand landed on her shoulder, and she realized she'd hardly breathed. Looking up into Howler's eyes, Zelda sucked in a deep breath, then two. "What happened?" she asked.
The two exchanged looks. "You nearly spent yourself, Spitfire," Rhoam said, "to an . . . interesting effect."
Howler twitched. Zelda gave him a funny look, not quite remembering what happened, but knowing it had hurt. "What kind of effect?"
Another glance. "I believe it is between you two now," Rhoam said, though the stiffness in his voice was not so easily masked this time. "But that is not the point."
Howler rolled his eyes. Rhoam ignored him. "Spitfire, darling . . . you must never do what you did again."
Zelda was more than a little confused, but she decided to focus on what her father was saying rather than the unspoken tension between him and Howler. "What did I do?"
"When you saved Spots, you . . . went overboard," Howler said, cutting off what her father had been about to say. He ignored the glare sent his way and continued, "We tried to get you to stop, but . . . we think it may have had other effects."
Other effects? "What kind?" Zelda demanded. "Is Spots okay?"
"Spots is fine," Rhoam interjected quickly. "He is healing nicely, thanks to you. The effects, however, do not pertain to him."
Do not pertain to him . . . "Then to whom do they pertain?" Zelda said, growing hysterical. Memory flashed through her mind, and she pushed it down savagely. No.
She felt lashes strike down her soul and held back a wince. "Tell me what happened," she begged, her hand seeking out Howler's, almost unconsciously. It clenched his fingers as if they were a lifeline, and she felt his hand squeeze hers in response.
Rhoam swallowed. "Spitfire, try reaching for your power."
Try . . . Zelda stared at him, swallowed, and reached inside with trembling fingers.
Nothing.
There was nothing, no golden glow, and she was cold where she should have been warm. She reached deeper, hearing her breathing come faster and faster, but no matter how far she reached she could not find it, and she could almost feel the cold spread out and overtake her--
"Spitfire!"
Hands gripped her shoulders with unexpected tightness, and Zelda latched onto the grip tightly. She jerked her head up and found Howler's face close, hsi gaze searing into hers. "You're okay," he murmured, and it almost sounded as if he were convincing himself.
Zelda sucked in breath after breath, trying to slow it down, but she--she couldn't feel it, and memory was surging with a vengeance, and she could see her, see the blood--
Tears blocked her vision, but then there he was, tilting her chin up, and she knew it shone in her face because she saw it reflected in his eyes, the fear, and she saw him swallow.
"Why can't I feel it?" she whispered, and it took her a moment to realize she'd spoken aloud.
Rhoam stared at her with tears in his own eyes, and as he blinked them away, he forced the image of her mother from his mind. "We don't know, Spitfire," he whispered, and cleared his throat. He must be strong, for her. "But you must promise me that you will take it easy. You must promise me to get better."
Whether she caught the undertones of his voice or not was inconsequential--not as that wolf lifted his gaze from Rhoam's daughter, golden gaze flaring. "I will take care of her."
"I've heard that before," a new voice said. Howler ground his teeth.
A familiar figure slipped through the bushes, and Spots appeared. Zelda let out a half-sob, half-laugh, and Rhoam stood up to leave. He fixed the now-surly wolf with a hard glare. "Let's give them some privacy, Howler."
The wolf matched his glare for one of his own, but he stood, tangling his fingers with Zelda's. "I'll be back soon," he murmured, and Rhoam's heart twisted at the sight, at the feeling in the wolf's eyes, how it was reflected in his daughter's. He swallowed tightly and left, aware that the wolf followed after.
Zelda watched Howler's back disappear between the bushes and tried to sit up, but her body protested. It was like it had lost any energy after Howler left, and as Spots sat down in his place, she felt herself deflate slightly.
She opened her mouth, but Sheik cut her off. "You're not allowed to do anything like that ever again, ever. Do you understand?"
Zelda immediately flared up. "If I hadn't you would be dead."
"You didn't have to go so all-out," Sheik shot back. "You could have died, Zel, or worse, lost your power. I know you were upset, but--"
"I wouldn't have been so upset if you hadn't been there to begin with," Zelda spat, tears contradicting the venom in her voice. "I always told you, stop getting into fights. If you had died, if I hadn't gotten there--"
Sheik hurriedly wrapped her in a hug, and she bit her lip, burying her face in his shoulder. She sniffed. "You're not allowed to fight anymore," she said, voice shaky. "Not ever again. Do you hear me? I can't lose you. Please."
She felt his chet inflate as he sighed, and he pulled away. "Then you have to promise to stay where you can heal me, and everyone else," and though he smiled, the worry and the undertones of his voice spoke the words he refused to say aloud.
Zelda gazed into his eyes, feeling her throat close up. "I have to go, Spots."
"Why?" Sheik growled.
"He needs me."
"I need you, too. What about me? What about dad?"
"I'm doing this to protect you. I promise I'll come back," Zelda whispered. "I just--I have to do this."
Sheik shook his head, his gaze never leaving Zelda's, and she felt her heart sink. "I see the way you look at him," he said.
Zelda jerked, feeling defensive and hot all at once. "I--what's that supposed to mean?"
Sheik just huffed a sigh and shook his head again. "Get some sleep, Zel," he said, standing. "You'll need it."
He left the den, and Zelda let her head fall to the pillow, blinking back tears.
She awoke some hours later from fitful sleep, and forced herself to rise. She could hear voices from outside her den, mostly male, but once or twice a female voice joined in. It sounded like an argument.
Zelda rose on tired legs and staggered out of the bushes, finding her father, Sunset, Howler, Mania, Spots and Blazing Sun all in a circle. Howler stood at the sight of her, and entangled his fingers in hers, as if he couldn't hold himself back. He let out a deep breath that shook slightly, and pulled her gently to the circle.
Zelda swallowed as she sat, her shoulder just an inch from his, and she shifted, uncomfortable. She squirmed, trying not to make it noticeable, but Howler scooted over until his shoulder pressed into hers, and Zelda breathed a tiny sigh.
The others viewed this exchange with expressions ranging from mildly annoyed to outright hostile. Blazing Sun in particular stared at the pair with searing golden eyes, flicking between them.
Rhoam cleared his throat. "As we were saying, Spitfire, we need to decide what happens next."
"I believe we already covered that," Howler said coolly, though his fingers tightened possessively around Zelda's. She cleared her throat.
"Father, I've told Spots already," she said softly. "I made a promise to Howler and Sunset. I can't leave them now."
She left out the part where leaving them might actually cause her physical pain, but they didn't need to know that.
"I am not letting you go wander around a virus-infested countryside with a wolf and fox as your only companions," Rhoam gritted out.
"We've protected her thus far," Sunset said.
"And yet, she comes to us in the midst of a war, after you took her away," Spots shot back.
"Funny you should mention that," Howler said, his hand twitching. "We were actually on our way here to tell you that there's no need for a war. Spitfire came with us of her own will."
Tiny pinpricks struck something in Zelda, feeling vaguely guilty, though she could think of nothing that would make her feel that way. Then she felt Howler's fingers clench, once again, around hers, and suddenly she knew.
He was guilty.
Zelda glanced at him, lips parting. He truly thought he stole her away? She almost laughed; at this point, there was little she wouldn't drop for him, but even at the outset, he had a hold on her that had both terrified, angered, and thrilled her. She couldn't have stayed away if she'd wanted to.
But none of them knew that, even Howler himself. She knew it by the way his shoulders were tense, how he sat stiffly and tried not to glare at Last King and Spots.
"Whether she left of her own free will or not does not matter," Blazing Sun boomed, and Howler rolled his eyes. "What matters is what she does now."
"Spitfire, you are the catalyst," Rhoam said, and Zelda felt responsibility crash down on her. She swallowed, missing the way Sunset hissed at Rhoam, the fact that they were visiting anima be damned. She also missed how, beside her, Howler's face had devolved into a near-snarl, for he had sensed the weight falling to Zelda's shoulders, and who had placed it there. He didn't care if he was her father or not--Howler's protective instincts had reared up in a frenzy, and they demanded that whatever caused Zelda distress needed to be eliminated.
Even Mania subtly glared at Rhoam, clenching his fists in the grass.
Zelda herself was oblivious to all this, struggling to find an answer to her father's obvious meaning. He expected her to stay--and she should, by all rights. But she knew her answer, and she knew it depended on the wolf at her side.
So she lifted her head and spoke clearly. "I'm going with them."
If Blazing Sun was shocked, he didn't show it. Rhoam, however, made his displeasure known. He pressed his lips into a thin line, and his eyes tightened. "Spitfire--"
"I know what I am, Father," Zelda interrupted, and the unexpected bitterness in her tone shocked even her. Howler's hand tightened around hers, a stroke of--was that pride?--shivering down her soul. She allowed a tiny smile to come to life.
"I know what is expected of me, but I have decided that it is rather absurd. A single anima keeping two tribes from killing each other? Because if there was a war, I'm too valuable to lose? What about me? What about what I want?"
Rhoam and Blazing Sun were silent, and that gave her the courage to continue. "I'm deciding now," she announced, standing. Howler pulled on her hand, entwining his fingers with hers. "I'm deciding to do what I want, and that means I'm going with my friends to stop the virus."
Rhoam opened his mouth, pain and regret and a dozen other emotions in his eyes, but Blazing Sun spoke first. "If that is the case, I will send a lion with you to make sure you stay on track."
The way his eyes flickered between her and Howler, too subtle and too quick to pass for much, spoke volumes to Zelda. She felt herself flush, but then--
"I can do that," Mania said, crossing his arms. Blazing Sun's gaze flashed to him. Mania shrugged. "I've stuck around so far, and we've made pretty good progress. I figure, if I tag along further, we may have the answers we want by the end of the week."
Howler snorted; of course the lion would try to claim credit for their progress. But—
"There may not be any tribes by the end of the week," Rhoam snapped, rising to his impressive height. "While you have been gone, daughter, the virus has encroached into half the territory. The Outliers are gone!"
"I know," Zelda said quietly.
"Then why are you leaving?" he demanded. "Why are you abandoning your duty?"
Howler snarled, in a sudden fit of fury, shoving past Zelda, and she had to hold onto his arm to keep him from advancing further. Blazing Sun and Rhoam flared up, growls emitting from low in their throats, and Sunset and Mania readied themselves.
Zelda stared at Howler, willing him to meet her halfway. His eyes were wild, his canines poking his lower lip. He didn't look at her, and she knew with chilling certainty he was falling further away from her. She yanked his head down by his hair and whispered in his ear, praying silently that he would hear her.
Blazing Sun and Rhoam watched this, watched the cheetah plead with the feral wolf, triggered into a frenzy. Watched her hand slip to cup his cheek, pulling his head down to her, pressing her forehead to his, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and watched the wolf slowly, so slowly, calm down.
His chest heaved, and knowing his history with abandonment, Zelda could tell his episode wasn't solely because of his own experience. He had shown so far that he was receptive to her emotions and moods, more so than normal, and it triggered her innate curiosity. What could cause a change like that, she wondered? But now wasn't the time.
She tugged on his hand, and sent her parting words over her shoulder. "We are leaving. I promise I will return, just . . . wait for me."
Then she was dragging Howler through Running Wind, Sunset and Mania hot on their heels, and into the setting sun.
Hello there! So this came out of nowhere about three days ago and I feel it greatly enhances the story so now Essence is officially, counting the prologue, 17 chapters long. But that's okay.
Review replies.
To StJames1: PSYCH!!!! HAHA
yayyy thanks! Also yesss there's another BOTW reference here, can you spot it???
Yeah that was supposed to be stritch LMAOOO I FORGOT ABOUT HIM HAHAHA. And uhhhhhh does this chapter answer your question?
To Queen Emily the Diligent: T_T thanks
(Also idk if it's weird or arrogant to love character that I wrote but I love them too lmaoo)