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For a tense moment, the clearing was cloaked in a heavy silence. Perseus held Malachai captive in his burning gaze, their surroundings charged with tension.
And then, as if sensing Kieran's sincerity, the fire drake slowly released his grip, allowing Malachai to slump to the ground.
Kieran approached cautiously, keeping a watchful eye on both of them. He extended a hand toward Perseus, his voice soothing. "Good boy. Stand down."
The fire drake rumbled softly, his flames flickering as he regarded Kieran with a mixture of wariness and loyalty. Kieran turned his attention to Malachai, his expression pure, seething hostility.
Malachai's defiant gaze met Kieran's, the fire in his eyes flickering with a treacherous intensity. Kieran's patience was wearing thin, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. He had little sympathy for a troublemaker like Malachai, and his focus was solely on preventing any further chaos.
"Don't play the victim here!" Kieran snapped, his voice cutting through the tension. "You brought this on yourself, and now you're going to face the consequences."
Malachai's lips curled into a bitter smirk, his tone dripping with sarcasm like a bitter poison. "Oh, forgive me if I don't shed a tear for that dumb star-mutt."
Kieran's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he retorted, his voice a low growl. "You terrorized this place, drugged an innocent girl, and thought you could just walk away?"
Malachai's gaze never wavered, his insolence unyielding. "I did what I had to do to survive. You wouldn't understand."
"Survive?" Kieran scoffed. "Seriously, bud, you don’t need sex to survive. It’s but a luxury."
“F-fu…” Malachai winced in pain due to his wounds and burns. “Fuck you, man!”
The two foxes stayed locked in a tense standoff, the weight of their choices and actions hanging heavily in the air between them. Kieran's patience had run its course, and he was prepared to make sure Malachai faced the ramifications of his reckless behavior.
"Get up," Kieran commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He withdrew his menacing dagger, ready to use if he was forced to. "We're taking you to the authorities, and you're going to answer for what you've done."
“You don’t know what you’re doing, boy.”
“Get. Up.” Kieran growled more intensely now.
The defeated malachite-colored corsac fox pushed himself off the ground with a mixture of pain and reluctance, dried blood detailing his body, his gaze never leaving Kieran's.
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As they began to make their way back toward the tavern, Kieran's grip on Malachai's arm was firm and obdurate.
There would be no escape this time.
As they walked back, a hush seemed to settle over the city. The moon cast long shadows, playing tricks on the eye. In a fleeting moment, a soft breeze whispered through street-ways, carrying with it an echo of forgotten stories and unresolved destinies.
It was as if the night itself held its breath, caught in the suspense of this encounter. Kieran's steps faltered for an instant, a strange sensation washing over him – a momentary glimpse into the intricate dance of fate and circumstance.
And then, as quickly as it had come, the sensation passed. Kieran shook his head slightly, as if to clear his thoughts, and tightened his grip on Malachai's arm once more. But the night had left its mark, a reminder that even in the most determined of pursuits, the universe held its secrets close, revealing only fragments of its grand design.
‘I’m always wondering about you,’ thought Kieran affectionately, referring to the universe and whatever was out there. He may not believe in any deities, but he did believe in meaning. He believed in endless mysteries, and whenever things were quiet his mind slipped into thought about them.
As they continued on their path, Perseus marching alongside them, Kieran couldn't help but ponder the enigma of it all. The stars above seemed to shimmer with a knowing twinkle, as if they, too, were observers in this intricate play of light and shadow. Could they be living creatures?
Kieran, a mere mortal in the vast tapestry of existence, forged ahead, determined to uncover the truths that lay hidden in the depths of the night.
As Kieran and Malachai returned to the tavern, the scene had transformed from the chaos that had ensued earlier. The authorities, clad in intricate purple and silver armor, stood vigilant amidst the remnants of the struggle. Their presence exuded an aura of order and control, a stark contrast to the previous commotion.
Isabella was in conversation with one of the armored fox men, her expression a mix of relief and concern. Tessa sat nearby, her eyes downcast as she spoke softly with another of the guards.
Perseus went to her side immediately upon setting his sight on the dark blue fox, remained there, and did not move, his fiery presence a testament to the bond between. them. He was calm now, but watchful; he did not revert to his smaller form, likely in case something unexpected happened that forced him to protect his owner again.
Kieran's arrival with Malachai didn't go unnoticed. The leader of the guards, a stern yet composed swift fox figure, stepped forward with a nod of acknowledgment. "You've done well," he stated, his voice carrying a sense of authority that demanded attention. Through the armor, Kieran could see his white fur adorned with brewed tea-colored patches.
Maybe a desaturated, light brown was a good description of the color, or perhaps a light fawn color. His eyes were an icy blue, and his age was evident by the lines under them.
Kieran's grip on the criminal's arm tightened for a moment before he released him into the custody of the guards. He regarded the armored leader with a mixture of respect and wariness. "He's all yours," the bounty hunter stated simply, his gaze unwavering.
The guard leader inclined his head, his sharp eyes studying both of the males. "We'll take it from here," he affirmed, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You've helped secure Dawnbreak tonight, and for that, we are grateful."
Before the guards left, Kieran grabbed the leader’s attention back on him. “Sir, would it be possible if I can be there when you question him?” he asked.
“Why’s that?”
Kieran pulled out the wanted poster of The Shadow that he’d collected earlier, and displayed it to the white-and-fawn fox. “I’m working for you now.”
“Ah,” he smiled, “lovely. Another young man who has no idea what he’s messing with. Yes, you may be present, I give permission.
Be at the prison tomorrow at noon.”
“Great. I appreciate it.”
As Malachai was led away by the guards, Kieran's attention shifted to Isabella and Tessa. He approached them, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Is everyone alright?" he inquired, his voice gilded with genuine care.