così tanto da dire

Fort Cumberland

POSTED: Sat Apr 06, 2013 11:13 pm

the story of the beast with those four dirty paws

The terrible sound of Chehalis' cough hadn't left his mind, and he laid awake until the early hours of the morning when he decided to visit the medical hut in search of supplies. Zalen would understand, he told himself. There was no way the dark wolf would abide by a preventable death. Ksenjia was absent when he got there, but the stores were organized, and he easily found what he was searching for. He grabbed a sprig of fresh yellow, buttercup-like flowers from a shelf and tucked them into a bag he found hanging on a hook. It was unlike him to use items like this, but this would leave his hands free for sprinting.

Adonis headed north just as the sun began to illuminate the horizon. It took him a while, but he eventually made it to Fort Cumberland. Seer hadn't made an appearance, and the pale wolf was certain his companion didn't even know of his departure from the pack lands. He could see that the family was still present. Marcello was up and spotted him as he rounded one of the tall cobblestone walls. The boy approached him with concern laced across his features. "Papà has been coughing all night." Adonis set his hand on the boy's shoulder and sighed. "I know, which is why I brought medicine. A man of his age should take it easy." Marcello curled his nose and frowned. "He insists on joining us for everything. I'm worried about him, Adonis. His cough has never been this bad."

He raised his arm and dug around in the pack at his side and pulled out the flower. He squeezed Marcello's shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "In the event he fails to listen to my reasoning, I need you to administer this to him in a tea form twice daily. In the old ways, we would have eaten it straight, but tea will be easier on his body. There is enough here for a two week supply." Adonis gingerly put the flower back and closed the flap. When that was done he ran his hand through his hair and blew out a heavy breath. "Listen, I am certain you are smart enough to realize he is venerable. Ah-, before you interrupt me," Adonis raised a finger when Marcello made to speak out against the perceived insult, "He is very much the warrior I remember, which will make this difficult; that stubborn streak of his is both a blessing and a curse."

Marcello chuckled and nodded. "Come, but be quiet. He's finally asleep." Adonis followed the younger boy to the camp. Chehalis was curled up with his hood drawn over his head once more. Titan was sleeping on his back with one hand over his stomach, and Farran was passed out with his head tucked up against the log. "Here, there is room in this pack." His ears swiveled around to Marcello, who was holding one of his leather bags open for Adonis to place the herbs into. He hurried over and removed the flowers from his pack, and placed them gently into Marcello's.

That task complete, Adonis shook Marcello's hand and made to leave. But something stopped him when he caught sight of the look on Chehalis' face. His brows were screwed up, and his breath ragged from coughing all night. The pale princeps knelt beside his old companion and ran his thumb across the crease on his brow, smoothing it over. "Be well, frater meus." Hovering on the fringes was Marcello, who watched the one-sided exchange with an oddly serious look on his face. Adonis looked to him, "What is it?" In response, Marcello motioned for Adonis to follow as he walked past the horses and towards the beach.

Adonis dutifully followed the young DeMonte until they came to stop at the sea. "My father won't be around forever." He said after a prolonged silence. "And I want to make him proud before he passes. I want to make up for his mistakes, and show him that they don't effect how much we all love him. Even mamma. She doesn't see his faults. She sees who he was when he sacrificed himself for her when he fought Caligula."

"Marcello..." Adonis didn't want to have this conversation. Not because he didn't care, but because he had no idea how to reassure the DeMonte that he was doing exactly what he needed to do. But he didn't know that, either. He finally decided to just talk. "You know the story. How my own father died the night we attacked Nova Mountain. I never got the chance to try and make up for my own misgivings, and I spent years of my life denying my history; trying to cast out everything he taught me. But in the end I came to realize that everything he did, he did because he loved me. And though some of the things he did were wrong, he was a good father to me, and I could not deny such a large part of my life simply because he believed in something that I did not agree with."

"What I am trying to say is that Chehalis knows you love him, and that you try because of it. You do not need to prove yourself to him, or to make up for his past. The past is past for a reason; it can never be changed. Marcello," The boy looked up, and there was a hint of sadness in his face. "You are not responsible for your father. You are responsible for you. Do well by you, and your father will find his peace."

Marcello inhaled shakily and swiped at his eyes with his arm. "Thank you. For listening and just..." Adonis smiled. "It's okay Marcello."

Adonis rose to his feet and readjusted the empty satchel. "I need to return to New Dawn and tell Zalen about the medicine. He will not be pleased, but he has a good heart. He will understand." Marcello reached forward for a hug, and Adonis embraced the boy willingly. "I'll miss you. I wish you could come with us. Mamma wouldn't have any hard feelings, and Papà would love to have you around."

He smiled sadly and patted the dark boy on the back before disengaging his arms. Marcello stepped back and smiled. "I know. If the wind changes, you might find me there yet." Adonis turned to leave but not without a last parting farewell. "Take care of yourself, Marcello."

With that he dropped to all fours and began the short run home.

Woops, part two. +1100 words


Dead Topics