Keep On Bleeding

Levent Kartal · 03-24-2012, 09:04 AM

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Hey hey!

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It had been a moon’s turn since about the time Levent had entered Nova Scotia, and still there was much to explore. He found himself physically and emotionally exhausted, however, too much to travel; his poignant grief shared with the merle girl and the tumultuous exchange with the blind one had left him unable to think of anything but sleep lately. And so he slept often, nestled up in a tree with his satchel as a pillow, a blanket draped over him, and a cat that would go out to hunt a few trees away before returning like always. Whatever quarrel they’d shared after the disaster with Amy seemed to have melted away like the spring snow, and Levent was grateful for that.

Tonight would be one of those cursed nights, however. Wilson was restless which made the wolf restless, and so he sat on the thick branch of one of the trees and scowled, his head in his hands. Reaching in his bag and playing with some of the shells and jewelry he’d collected helped calm him, but the white tom was pacing back and forth along one of the higher branches. Even when he’d stop and sit, his tail danced just within reach of the luperci’s ears and caused the man to snort.

“I know you’re a cat, arkadaş, but this hour is late even for you,” Levent scolded quietly.

The feline crouched on his branch. “Nightmares,” he stated simply, his voice coming as if from far-off. “I feel cooped up. I want to take a walk.” His head jerked at the sound of crackling in the trees, his white coat bristling, but it was only a particularly fat raccoon scrambling along one of the branches after some insect or another.

“What are your nightmares about?” the wolf asked, his words distorted by a massive yawn. Wilson did not answer, only looked at him with moon-huge yellow eyes then back at the trees. The merchant sighed, dropping down from the tree and slinging the satchel over his shoulder; one arm stretched out for the cat to drop down on before Wilson scrambled down his short, lithe body to the forest floor. “Tamam o zaman. Let’s go.”

The odd pair did not travel very far before a howl broke through the night, causing the cat to freeze and hiss. Once the despairing note reached their ears, however, they exchanged a glance. “Oh, tekrar olmasın,” Levent growled, but he was obligated to pad in that direction anyway. He’d seen and suffered plenty of breakdowns in these last few weeks, and he really wasn’t in the mood to deal with another one—but perhaps some part of him was trying to make up for the demonic dance in the north. The normally adroit male had stopped playing intricate games and schemes for the sake of being simple and nice. It might’ve made him “feel good,” but it wasn’t getting him any food.

This time, seeing the dainty silvery-black woman curled into a ball and weeping filled him with frustration. She looked uninjured, wasn’t cradling a dead friend in her arms. Had a lover cast her aside? Was she simply lost and overwhelmed like a puppy would be?

Levent watched from a distance, his blue eyes cold. His fingers played deftly with a gold chain, and with a glance at Wilson, he walked toward the crumpled figure. “Niçin ağlıyorsun?” he questioned in Turkish, not caring to translate his words. He thrust his hands in his pockets, the cat watching with fearful eyes.

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