Novels2Search
One Hell Of A Vacation
Chapter 122 - Worth

Chapter 122 - Worth

Chapter 122: Worth

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” Joseph growled, looking tired of the uncertainty and eager to leave.

Jax swallowed, looking at his Grand Hunter with a silent request for time before flicking his eyes back to his elder sibling. “I... She...”

A silence lingered between them, the Human’s expectant glare whittling down at his enthusiasm. His throat dried as he considered how poorly this could go; they had already started this off on the wrong foot, but Joseph’s ire would only complicate matters.

He took a breath, choosing to use English to buy a modicum of subtlety. “Joseph, may I have some time alone with her?”

His leader’s eyes narrowed, accommodating the shift in language. “What? Jax, first you didn’t know her, now you two are staring like lost lovers. Keep in mind that they tried to kill Tech.”

His paw clenched tightly, his claws digging into the pads as he bowed his head, ignoring the look from the First Claw. “I would like to speak with my elder sister, if you would permit it.”

The Grand Hunter’s mouth opened, the anger faltering to be replaced by confusion and reluctance. A single claw rose, falling into a fist until the arm dropped limp. Joseph’s jaw set as irritation burned beneath his gaze. “You owe me one fuck of an explanation, Jax.”

“I will give you all that I am, should you grant this worthless male his wish.”

A fist limply impacted his chest, pushing against his flesh instead of being removed. Jax let his head rise.

“Already gave it, Jax.” Joseph’s knuckles repeated the short, frustrated strike, hitting just lightly enough to communicate his displeasure. His tongue wet his lips as he thought about it, finally removing the disapproving contact. “Fine.”

“Thank y—“

“—But,” Joseph interrupted firmly, “Tel is going to be watching. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I don’t trust her.”

Jax closed his eyes, accepting the condition with a heavy heart. “Of course, Grand Hunter.”

“First Claw.” Rey’zel perked an ear at the Lilhun speech from the Human. “I’ll be going on ahead. I expect I won’t need to come back this sun?”

She blinked, raising a curious brow. Her regard lingered as she pressed a button on the desk at Jax’s nod, quietly ordering something before turning her attention back to Joseph. “They are informed that you will be leaving alone.”

“I’m not going to come back, right?” The threat was obvious, but Rey’zel seemed rather used to such things, tipping her head towards the door.

“Unless you or your company were to err, no.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” His paw clasped Jax’s shoulder, a sharp, stuttered whistle piercing the air. A moment passed before the Grand Hunter patted his arm, keeping his voice low. “Anything goes south, you know the signal, and you know what she’ll do.”

The door opened and clicked closed before he could gather himself to answer, Joseph exiting the room without a second glance. Guilt for his request stung in his chest, the absence of the Grand Hunter’s touch leaving him colder than before. The disdain in the male’s voice was clear; he despised being uninformed, yet he extended trust regardless.

If only it didn’t feel as if Jax had violated that trust, even through ignorance. If only he didn’t feel so unworthy.

“Quite the oddity, that one,” the First Claw opined quietly, as if afraid that her words would shatter the fragile silence that lingered behind. Her eyes flickered up to him, only to fall back to the floor nervously. He couldn’t blame her for the uncertainty, they were on opposite sides of what very well may be a strong point of contention.

“It is because he is different that I may truly appreciate what he has given me,” Jax replied, forcing away his guilt for her as he turned away from the door. Her own expression lightened in return.

Rey’zel stopped leaning on the desk, standing to walk around it slowly. Her claws lingered on the surface, skimming lightly across the red hardwood as if to distract a part of herself while she eased into conversation. “You have a mate, too. Is she here?”

“N-no,” the black-furred male admitted, a slight disappointment tinting his voice. If he had known, he might have... No, there are more critical things than wishing to introduce Harrow to his blood-kin. “She is tending to an important task at the settlement.”

His elder sibling stopped just beyond arm’s reach, the dominant persona fading entirely to be replaced by warmth and fondness. A small chuckle—weak and nervous—worked its way into her tone. “Just the one, Jax? I figured you would have an entire den of those committed to each other by now.”

“I...” Jax paused, taking a breath. “I have a loving den, all the same. We are bound by loyalty just as strong.”

Her paw reached out, gently placing it on his cheek as she closed the distance. Her smile and damp eyes matched her strained voice, an overwhelmed joy fighting disbelief. He knew not how many years she lacked the touch of her kin, but he could see that she was marveling at the sensation after so long. Again, he found himself subconsciously searching for the scent that would tell him that he had found another of his blood, that he could confirm his sibling was safe and well.

Yet he gained nothing from his broken sense. All he had to show for it was regret for not taking Robert’s offer, guilt for the thought crossing his mind, and scaring to remind him why he didn’t in the first place.

Scaring that Rey’zel’s claws slowly traced over, almost as if memorizing his face from scratch, matching the new markings with the youthful appearance she held in her heart. Jax smiled sheepishly, fighting with himself before suddenly pulling her in for a hug. Though surprised, she wasted no time returning the crushing pressure.

“What of yourself? Mates? Kits?” he asked, hoping that she would answer without wondering about the source, but Rey’zel faltered at his questions.

“You can’t...” She pushed off his shoulders, holding him at arm’s length as her eyes narrowed, scouring his features. She settled on the slight deformation on his snout. “Your nose...”

“Hindered.” He couldn’t help but feel reproachable, averting his gaze from the forlorn expression given. He didn’t want to disappoint her, yet every fraction of time that passed, he felt lesser, like he was letting her down by having such a key part of himself absent. By being more and more imperfect.

“Is it painful?” she asked quietly.

“It is not, though I find myself at a loss at times because of it.”

“Oh, Jax.” She lifted a paw to brush over his face, startling him slightly as the tip of her claw crossed the threshold of his limited vision. “Why.... Your eye?”

“Blinded.”

Worry and fury crossed her visage. “For how long? What happened to you?”

Jax lightly grabbed her arm, lowering it to her side. “Both are recompense for a grave sin, sister.”

“What sin cost you so much? Who collects such dues?”

Jax turned his head towards the door without thinking, wondering if he should divulge such information. Unfortunately, Rey’zel was paying far more attention than he thought.

“He did it? And you follow him as a guard? What did he do to you?” Every question was matched by her fur bristling, syllables snapping as her snarl expanded, her teeth glinting in the artificial light.

“Rey’zel—“

Yet Jax’s voice was ignored. The female extended her claws and flexed her paws, rage taking over her thoughts. “—That one stole from you, and you let him live!? No, I will not abide by this.”

“There is more than you know to the events,” he pleaded, grabbing her wrists as he tried to calm her down. “I deserved more than was given for my transgression.”

“He deserves to bleed out at my feet!” The First Claw turned, likely to march to her desk and order something of her forces, but his hold prevented it.

“Rey’zel,” Jax warned quietly. For how similar their builds were, it was obvious that he had an advantage in strength; try as she might, her arms were locked within his paws. She tugged, making no progress in freeing herself. He disregarded the almost feral snarl, matching the intensity with a cold tone while boring into her with his eyes. “You will not harm him.”

Be it the steeled edge to the words, or the complete lack of warmth, she recoiled back, losing the steam that had built up. “Jax, he—“

“—Is the one who I have sworn my life,” he finished, releasing her once her concern overpowered the rage.

She shook her head, slowly at first, but speeding up as she processed it. “No. No, Jax, you can come with me! We wouldn’t turn down more personnel. Y-you always wanted to follow in our father’s steps, right? I can get you a place within the ship’s security!”

“Rey’zel.”

“Jax, think! There is no future here with—“

“—Rey’zel,” he repeated, firming his voice and stepping forward. Her eyes showed the growing desperation. He placed his paws to her shoulders, staring until she settled into focusing on him.

She looked lost, like he had stripped away the last hope she held dear. “Jax, please. We arranged our leave for after this assignment. We can visit them!”

His ear flicked as he recalled how long it had been since he had seen his den-fathers. How much time had passed since his mother’s funeral, and how he wished to reunite with his kin to celebrate her memory. The anniversary would be approaching soon, if he recalled correctly.

“I can’t, Rey,” he whispered, pushing down the sense of defeat and self-chastisement. He couldn’t be humouring these thoughts, but the honest pleading tugged at him, pulling his heart towards what could be.

“But why, Jax?” she pressed, resting her paws on his chest. He felt the anxious claws prick his flesh. “They think you’re dead! Why would you force them to mourn yet another loss when you could come to be their comfort?”

“They...know of the ship?”

She nodded, falling into him as she gripped at his coat. Her face dampened his fur, a shuddering breath drawn through suppressed emotions that were too muddled to parse. “I have much authority now. I was able to request deployment listings and periodic status reports of our siblings.”

His breath caught in his throat. “Are they safe?”

“...Yes. You were the only one we couldn’t track. We thought... I thought...” A soft whimper matched the quiet sob. “Please, come back with us. Father is sick, and I couldn’t bear telling him that he had lost yet another kit. I tire of death, Jax. I tire of missing the departure of loved ones. I just want... Please...”

His arms wrapped around her, her shrunken posture compressing in his embrace as untold layers of stoicism collapsed in the grasp of one who would not judge her for it. He noticed the discrepancy in her words, and was almost tempted to ignore it, but he had to know... “Brother Quin?”

The shallow gasp hid the keening wail, but her shaking form brook no argument. His eyes dampened the fur beneath them, his voice small and fearful. “What...”

She forced a breath down. “Yours is not the first we have lost to a warp-spike, Jax. We found shrapnel littering the surface... You transferred after my last report. I had no idea where you were, but I hoped it was far away from... I didn’t want to lose you too...”

Further speech was choked by silent weeping, and before long, his questions found themselves with the same fate. The siblings held one another as they shared in the sorrow, riding the emotions until neither had more tears to shed.

She growled out of mourning, hammering his chest with a fist. “And yet my stupid sibling gifted his life to the one who crippled him!”

“Rey—“

“—No, Jax!” she barked, pushing away from him. The pads of her paws dug at her eyes as if to wipe away the moment of comfort they shared. “I don’t care what petty reason you have to think that it would be fair compensation, nor how ‘grave’ a sin you believe you committed! You pledged yourself to an alien, Jax!”

Her shoulders faltered before her voice, but the rage seeped into the floor, leaving behind an almost wistful visage. “If we lose our kin to them, what difference is it if I may hold you now, when the Void and a cold corpse would offer just the same?”

He lowered the arm that reached out to her as she walked a few steps to sit against the edge of her desk, covering her face. “It was not a small transgression, Rey’zel.”

“What could be worth—“

“—I almost killed his kit.”

The words hung over him like an executioner's axe. Here he was, finally reuniting with a sibling who he had long since lost contact with, and she had to learn this while begging him to return with her.

“Jax...you had good reason, surely—“

“—No,” he denied firmly, clenching his fists as his gaze fell to the floor. “We formed a pack after being abandoned—small, yet reliant on each other for survival. He claimed where we wished to reside.”

“And then you went to capture it! It was to prosper where death was the only other option,” she countered, desperately giving justification. He shook his head.

“He saved one of us from the grips of the Void—a defect, believe it or not. She has since become his mate, and Paw of the pack. He took on an Atmo kit as his own, gave supplies to a starving group of vagabonds, then without question, took in one bloodied and broken to heal. Again and again, he saved us from our circumstances, fighting the very Void itself for those to whom he owed nothing.”

“But...”

“I sought to end him.”

“You were...” Her voice weakened as she tried to apply logic where none could be found. True, he thought it natural at the time, but many moons had given him the opportunity to reflect, and not one reason could be attributed to more than vanity.

“I realized quickly that I was wrong,” he continued, smiling at how foolish he had been, a paw reaching up to touch his scars that signified his penance. “He was not a force to be subdued, no matter how inadequate I felt in comparison. Food, shelter, care... All of which he gave as naturally as breathing to those who were so different from himself. I challenged him. I led him to end my sin by his own paw, and allow the others a future that I would only hinder.”

His sister hugged herself, worry and fear battling against her concern. “The scars?”

“I threw a spear for him to claim, but I had underestimated how worn and disturbed my sense of self would be. It flew, grazing him as it soared towards...” He swallowed, bile rising as he thought about how close he was to ending a kit he had come to silently call his own. “I do not remember the rest, save for awaking mended and bandaged. Blinded, broken, and lesser than I recalled, I heard someone worry for me. I felt their touch, their affections, and their kiss as they resigned themselves to nothing more, the moment fading to obscurity.”

He licked his dry lips as he smirked at the First Claw. “He had much more to give than my life was worth, Rey’zel. He gave me forgiveness, a mate, and a purpose. If he wished it so, I would breathe my last to end his enemies, or I would shield him with my form.”

“Jax, I... You can’t...”

“He will be the sire of my young, just the same as myself,” he stated proudly through the misting in his eyes. “My mate and I decided long ago to give him that which he could never have, and await the first moments they can gaze upon their strange father with the same love they give us.”

“Do you regard him as better than your kin?” she asked, tears dripping down her cheeks. “Is he really worth more than your own? More than our father? You would rather stay with that alien than see him before his passing?”

Jax swallowed, unable to hold eye contact. “Do not make me choose, Rey’zel.”

“You already have, Jax,” she whispered, wiping away the remains of his blood-kin and replacing her with the same First Claw that spoke so professionally with Joseph. “I believe our matters have come to a close. You may leave. The escort will direct you to reclaim your possessions on your way out.”

“Rey’zel—“

“—We are finished here,” she snapped, pushing off the desk to retreat behind it. She sat in her chair, making a point of never glancing in his direction. “I shall be available to listen to any concerns during the negotiations at the congressional, should you choose to attend. May the rest of the sun treat you well.”

Jax closed his muzzle, stopping himself from pestering someone who had clearly made a decision. He turned, pausing as the door opened to reveal the soldier who would lead him outside. He left a simple statement before exiting the office, filling it with as much emotion and sincerity as he could, the entryway closing behind him.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“I am glad you are safe, Rey’zel, and...I’m sorry.”

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Volta wiped down the tables again, making sure each and every surface was as presentable as possible. It made her feel more at ease when she thought about the subtle smiles and relaxation of others, free of considerations about the cleanliness of their surroundings. That urge only intensified when she remembered that they were staying in a den provided by the UM, and that they could very well be judged for how it was kept. It would reflect poorly on them if she were to overlook even the smallest buildup.

The only other duty she had actually been assigned was to see visitors, should they arrive. Thankfully, her assistance had yet to be required, but that left her very much aware of the company within the building.

Four humans, a Trilaxin, two Atmo, and Scarlet. The first five seemed more than content to talk amongst themselves, involving the Grand Hunter’s kit and guard when the mood struck, but the latter was more interested in bothering her as usual.

“You have been working the entire duration,” the dark red-furred female noted. Though her tone was cordial, Volta had spent more than enough time with her to know when disapproval was being expressed.

“There has been work to do.” She inspected her cloth for what little residue was captured, frowning when there was more than there should be, given how short a time the structure had been erected. She had more of them in her belongings, but she was sadly limited in her cleaning chemicals. It meant that she needed to prioritize some areas over others, and the servant was quick to claim those as her own duty. The help was appreciated, but she wished that Scarlet would simply allow her to do as she must.

She didn’t like the feeling that came with seeing the female assisting so earnestly, putting such a lowly cleaner above her own health. It pushed Volta to do more to validate her reason for coming along at all.

She was woefully inadequate in combat, inexperienced in matters of politics, and could hardly be called ‘relaxed’ around the new species she was suddenly exposed to. She had to prove her worth, and cleaning was all she had.

Well, she had experience in another area, but she wasn’t particularly interested in the Grand Hunter or his allies, and Head Tel would likely take offence to the offer. She had yet to see Scarlet indulge with anyone, so perhaps...

She cut that line of thinking off as soon as it formed, despite the warmth in her core that formed because of it.

Volta never begrudged her assignment as a comforter—if anything, she found it fulfilling to have some aspect of herself be valuable on a planet that required little of her actual skills—but having a more transactional relationship with the Wraith would be...wrong, somehow. True, there was merit in relieving the stresses amongst friends, yet she couldn’t quite shake the thought that it wouldn’t end as it started.

It scared her.

A paw rested on her hip, startling her from starting another pass along the countertop. She spun to glare at Scarlet, the soft smile hidden beneath the stoic facade weakening her building chastisement.

“You must eat, if nothing else.”

The blue-furred female rubbed down the disturbed fur, her claws lingering on the cream-coloured coat above the warmth she tried to ignore. “After I have completed my task.”

Her friend smirked, grabbing her paw and dragging her along while informing the rest of their temporary absence. Volta was about to protest, but she soon found herself led outside, then behind the building. It was only when they slowed that she tugged her arm free, flushing slightly at how long it took for her to consider the option.

Casually, the Wraith produced leaf-packaged snacks from beneath her apron, presenting one to the Head of Sanitation.

...What a ridiculous way to earn such a station...

“Here. Eat.”

A sigh escaped her muzzle as she accepted the bundle, unfurling it to reveal all of her favourites, cooked just the way she liked them. Why Scarlet ever bothered memorizing such trivial things, she could never say, but the thoughtfulness was appreciated. The dark red-furred female selected a broad stump nearby to sit on, patting the space next to her. Volta obliged, ignoring how the servant shifted closer once she was settled.

It felt nice to repeat their usual ritual, even if it was performed so far away from the place she had come to know every nook and cranny of. It didn’t feel so isolated, for some reason. If anything, it felt...comfortable.

The two ate, sharing both silence and company. Only the occasional question broke the tranquil atmosphere before quiet ease returned, one of which caught Volta off guard.

“Have you considered a mate within the pack?”

She choked down the bite she had taken, coughing until Scarlet offered her a drink that was pulled out of one place or another. She had long since grown used to the female storing who knows how much in pockets that only she was aware of, but it did little to detract from the sudden query.

Where did that even... Ah, the group was discussing something along those lines before the Grand Hunter was called away.

“I have been dedicated to my work,” she hedged, choosing a noncommittal answer. Truthfully, yes, she had, but Huntress Pan had been rather firm in turning her down, and she had only recently been given the mental space to consider otherwise. With the assault on the settlement and subsequent aliens, she was preoccupied with everything going on. It was hard enough to start seeking comfort with another when everyone had already taken the time to form their relationships, let alone gain affections beyond the physical.

Scarlet hummed in acknowledgement, her tail swaying lightly as she enjoyed her food. “What about when your work is sufficiently delegated and managed?”

That was a thought, being free of the micromanagement of her volunteers. She valued them for it, truly, but it didn’t sit with her right to rely on kits and the distressed to do her work. She managed a dry laugh, instead of the exhausted sigh that wanted to be known.

“Perhaps then, but I feel it will be some time until such an arrangement.” She glanced at her company from the corner of her eye. “You are still in need of a Sheath, no? I believe Head Tel has spoken about such at length.”

Scarlet slowly finished the red meat, licking her claws clean before selecting another morsel to sample. Though her expression remained unreadable, the pause before her answer was enough. “There is none who draw my need, so I will dedicate myself to the master and mistress… Until then, I am but a simple Blade, exposed and unwanted.”

Volta faltered, laying down her meal. It wasn’t often that Scarlet openly showed a true emotion, but the sound of discouragement was one she was familiar with. It rested within those who felt themselves worthless—devoid of mates or purpose—walking the path of life while their paws were rapped and beaten when they reached for affection. Those who exude such tones naturally had become little more than shells hugging themselves for comfort, for no other offered to do it for them. She had heard it within each of the Wraiths, truth be told. Their inner turmoils were hidden behind calculating eyes and cold regard, but the evidence of solitude remained.

The voices of those who cried out for love, but received punishment instead, again and again, until there was nothing left to seek it.

The kind of voice that Volta always imagined herself saving from the torture of loneliness, because it would help ease her own.

“But,” Scarlet continued, warmth entering her words. “The master needs me, because the young mistress is often beyond his reach. I will be his guiding paw when the others he trusts to do so are preoccupied. I will serve the one who reforged me into what I am, as well as the one who sees the world through unfiltered, insectoid eyes.”

The blue-furred Head lingered on her words, ruminating once again on the depth of her meaning. Just as she was about to offer her thoughts, Scarlet sniffed the air, her ears pointing towards the front of the building.

“Apologies, Volta. The master has returned.” The Wraith wrapped up what was left of her meats, placing some within the cleaner’s own allotment before slipping the rest into the ever-expansive storage beneath her uniform. “Please, take your time. You need rest.”

And then, Volta was alone with only the slight breeze that navigated the buildings and an absence of company.

Alone again, because someone else was worth more.

It seemed that no matter what, the dark red-furred female would always have a use, as dubious as it may be. It was dangerous for her to be gone, following the whims of the one who claimed a defect before a normal female. Scarlet would return carrying a feral tint to her eye that never really faded, building with each leave, and never being sated by the violence she leapt to participate in.

The Wraith was...is the first friend Volta had made in quite some time—one that wasn’t tied to anything beyond conversation and companionship, anyway. It hurt to see her slip away at the behest of another, then return both satisfied, and also utterly in need.

Volta wasn’t blind to the signs—she had her fair share of partners over the moons, even if most were just visiting her quarters aboard the ship on a whim or calling for her assistance in Hasen’s roaming encampments.

It was the fact that she was never sought out to ease the molten heat that plagued the female, perhaps. It suggested that even one who would slaughter her own found her undesirable. It brought forth a genuine laugh, if only to avoid the actual pit in her chest that tugged the rest of her downwards.

She really was pathetic. First, a defect that wanted nothing of her, then an assassin who would end her without pause—her life forfeit, if only Scarlet’s ‘master’ requested it.

When did she become such an idiot?

The sound of footsteps broke her from her self-pity, a disgruntled Grand Hunter tromping his way behind the building as he muttered to himself, the vitriol pouring through the veil of solitude. It stuttered to a stop as he finally noticed her, but by that point, she was gathering her items in a bid to return to work.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, scrubbing his face with his paws. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your break.”

A jolt ran up her spine. She avoided speaking with him for all this time—keeping what was inevitable to brief exchanges at worst—but any rush now would scatter what Scarlet had taken the time to prepare for her.

She forced a small smile, politely shaking her head. “I was about to return to my duties.”

He brushed the fur on his head away from his face, his expression falling as he inspected it before turning his regard to her. Concern and curiosity overtook his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

She panicked as he started approaching her, fumbling with the leaf wrapping of her meal and forcing herself to slow down. “I am well.”

A furless paw lifted her muzzle, meeting his piercing stare with her own anxious eyes. “You’re crying.”

A blink freed the moisture she was unaware of. When it started, she didn’t know, but there were plenty of points that would be valid guesses. “Irritation,” she deflected, lacking the will to force his touch away.

He frowned at her, refreshing the deep fear she tried so desperately to keep at bay. “What happened?”

“I-it is merely something in my eye.”

“Both of them?”

“Y-yes?”

“At once?” His tone firmed in disapproval. The tears built up quickly as she felt her grasp on her worthless hopes slip.

“Y-yes...” She was shaking, that much she noticed. There was too much in her mind vying for attention, and all of it could lead to her expulsion from the pack were she to say one wrong thing. The pressure clawed up her chest, squeezing her throat as breaths became shallow and forced.

His eyes widened, mouth opening as if remembering something important. His paw snapped away from her to join its other in being displayed at his sides. “Shit, sorry! I keep forgetting. It’s been a bit of a sun. I didn’t mean to...well, scare you.”

The way the male shifted his gaze away—shrinking under his own scrutiny—threw her off balance. He was the Grand Hunter, the master of the Wraiths, and one of a very select few people who would decide her fate with but a word. Yet, he shied away from her as if her discomfort would harm him...

Like he was worth less than her opinion.

Was... Was she the one making others feel isolated? Was her fear taking away his value?

No, surely not. He had his mate, his kin, his adoptive kit... So why did he look so fragile, so close to breaking? Why was her response to his presence cracking him at the seams?

“While I’m here,” he continued, lowering his arms and taking another step back. “I wanted to apologize for grabbing onto you a few moons ago.”

What was he talking ab—

“I didn’t mean to, I just kind of... I’m a bit...” His resolve faded as he attempted to phrase his thoughts, looking more and more defeated with every attempt. “I hug and cuddle in my sleep. I swear I didn’t try to... I’m really sorry.”

She remembered now; Scarlet convinced her to participate in the communal rest under the promise of doing so with Huntress Pan and herself, while also making sure the Grand Hunter wouldn’t be too near. Despite her claims otherwise, she wished for even a taste of what she had desired, even if it included being in proximity of the one who she felt so uneasy with. When she did finally fall into a deep sleep, it was amongst a collection of scales and fur that put her at peace, comfortably within the Wraith’s arms.

She had taken more solace in that than she would like to admit.

The point of contention was that Scarlet was not the one holding her when she awoke. It was conflicting, though pure to be held so reverently, her fur gently stroked as if it was the most decadent and valuable thing to behold. She had warmed at the thought, a part of her eager to return the affections, yet hesitant, lest the moment end at her involvement.

Instead, she went to hold the affectionate paw, to affirm everything that poked and prodded her deepest thoughts, but she met strange digits and an alien language mumbled through the filter of sleep.

She had never left a room so quickly. Shame, embarrassment, and beratement was rife within her mind, scolding her for thinking one might care for her in a way that would warrant such touch.

Scolding her for hoping about who that touch might belong to, and again for hoping at all.

Her tremors settled as she gazed at him in a stupor, lost between apprehension and pity. Without his mates, his kit, or his kin, he seemed vulnerable. Scared. It was as if his pillars had been removed, and all that remained was a male who needed a moment to let his fears escape the deep prison he had kept them in, free of those who relied on him, and the effects that those doubts would have.

It was not the unknown quantity that commanded the claws of the Void just a scant few moons ago, but another who trembled at the thought of losing everything.

Just like her.

“Y-you are forgiven.” She cursed her muzzle for messing up such a simple sentiment, but his form relaxed just the same. He gestured to the stump she was seated on, an unspoken request to join her showing through hesitant eyes. She nodded against her better judgment.

He smiled in gratitude, purposely placing himself as far away as comfort would allow. She expected him to... She wasn’t sure what, but she waited for something from the male, be it question or request. Instead, he rested his elbows on his knees and his face in his paws, staring at the ground in quiet rumination.

He looked so alone in the moment—enough so that she presented him some of the oddly flavoured grey meat from the ‘rock-worms’ that Scarlet had left behind. He lifted his head once he noticed her offering, accepting it with a subtle nod. Her stomach reminded her how little she had eaten recently, now that the male beside her was no longer a perceived threat to her survival. She swallowed her saliva as she slowly unpackaged the rest of her meal and joined him in eating.

For the first time, she wasn’t scared of him, nor of what he represented. He was seeking a moment of solitude, yet was terrified of being alone. She could accommodate that.

“How are things with you and Scarlet?” he asked after a long while. His gaze didn’t rise from the arbitrary point it had settled, but she felt he was listening for if she was comfortable enough to answer. When she didn’t do so immediately, she heard his breath catch, shifting into a small sigh. “Sorry, I just... I shouldn’t assume anything. Just curious.”

She wiped her claws off with a spare rag as she considered the question. Despite the numerous ways she looked at it, there really wasn’t much of an answer. “We are friends.”

He turned his head to raise a brow, dismissing his intrigue with closed eyes and absently choosing something else in the environment to ponder. “Well, thank you for being her friend, then. It means a lot to her.”

His choice in words gave her pause. As far as she knew, she spent far more time with the Wraith than him as of late, yet it seemed that he knew her far more intimately. He was firm and genuine in tone, allowing no doubt that he believed what he said.

Was she so sure in her own claim? Scarlet was the one who initiated their relationship; it may have been through relentless teasing and provocations, but it was her doing all the same. Could she say that she had communicated how much the meals together meant to her? How the long moons since the attack were only possible because the Wraith made it feel possible?

That she had not simply given up in the face of the aftermath because there was someone who cared?

“I... She is the one who chose to be.”

A huff of a laugh was returned. “She’s like Tel in that regard,” he admitted, sitting up and stretching his back. A series of soft pops signalled the relief of a long held stress. “Stubborn in her ways, but she’ll fight the Hunt Mother herself for those important to her. She might even try to claim the throne, if pressed.”

Scarlet the Goddess. The image brought a soft giggle from her muzzle before a paw could silence it. The Grand Hunter joined her with less reservation.

“It sounds ridiculous, but Scarlet doesn’t do people.” He scratched the nascent fur beneath his jaw. “Trying to get her to be polite to anyone who wasn’t higher up was...a challenge. Still is, really. She really likes sarcasm. And screwing with people...”

Volta found herself smiling fondly, nodding in agreement. The female would sow chaos as if it were a fleeting pastime, and she would be elated to do so. Those once troublesome pranks and prodding had become something she had learned to either begrudgingly accept, or silently find amusement in—not that she would tell Scarlet that.

“She still hasn’t opened up to anyone else,” he added, placing his paws behind him to support the shift in posture. Strangely, she didn’t feel uneasy by the increase in proximity it caused. “I’m sorry you’ve been chosen as the victim of her boredom, though.”

“It is something I have grown to accept,” she sighed, surprising herself with coherent speech.

“That’s one way to phrase it, yeah.” He laughed, the tension loosening from his shoulders in stages. “Seriously though. Thank you. She’s been...far more helpful than I could ever say. I’m glad she found someone to talk to without all the ‘Blade’ stuff around it. I was hoping that you two could use this as a break from everything, actually. You’ve both definitely earned it.”

Her ears perked towards him, a blink needed to process his words. She was being rewarded by coming here? It wasn’t that she found the place distasteful or inadequate, but she assumed she was expected to present only the very best to their hosts. It was a large task to earn the Grand Hunter’s trust, right? But...if she was truly brought along in recognition of her labour, then she needn’t do so...

Could she really just...rest here?

“Do you not need my services?”

“Hmm? Oh. I mean, I appreciate it, yeah, but I really couldn’t care less if the tables went a sun or two without being pristine.” He shrugged, sitting up straight. His paw reached out, patting her shoulder. “Take a break, Volta. You brought my kit joy in ways I couldn’t ever put value to, and you’ve done more good for the settlement than I could ever repay. Actually, I feel guilty for the impromptu promotion. If I had known that you would work yourself to death, I would have left things as they were.”

She stared at him, only vaguely aware that she had yet to flinch away from the contact; her mind was preoccupied with everything she was learning.

She was truly valued? Her efforts were noticed? She mattered beyond a single physical moon?

The male snatched his paw away, panic building in his eyes. “I did it again, I’m sorry. I just... Sorry.”

Volta blinked, freeing more tears from their temporary prison. She shook her head as she allowed the bleariness to fade.

“Thank you.”

He seemed conflicted, but nodded regardless, allowing the peaceful silence to surface once more until a soft whistle called him away. Once again, she was alone, but it didn’t feel so terrifying this time.

When Scarlet returned to retrieve her, she allowed herself a moment to reflect on the brief interaction with the subject of her previous fears, and the sentiments he expressed. It let her acknowledge parts of her new life that she had perhaps been subconsciously refusing.

It let her join the Wraith’s side with a smile as they went about rejoining the temporary den.

It let her toy with a thought she had been dismissing for some time now as well.

Perhaps she could seek something different, and that would be okay.

“Something on your mind, Volta?”

She glanced at the Wraith wearing her usual teasing smirk.

“You.” She tapped Scarlet on the tip of her snout, chuckling at the stunned expression and fleeing into the building before the dark red-furred female could recover.

For the first time in a long while, she felt she might be worth something, and the sweet laughter from outside made her believe it.