my boy builds coffins

It drizzled and it poured.

Towering pine and evergreen, branches bowed beneath the wet. The entire forest dark green and brown. Alive, in the summer. Alive, in the rain. Humidity and heat. Electricity in the air. Roots thick and overlaid. The path up steep; buried, in mud and overgrowth.

He climbed.

Up, and up, and up.

Out, from the bowl of the valley.

The rainfall trickled and streamed.

Overhead, lightning flashed, arced, sparked, from the sky.

Thunder rumbled and clapped.

And from beneath him—

The soft, wet, dark, crumbling dirt gave way.

He fell.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Down, onto the unsuspecting stranger below, rolling—crashing, colliding, falling—from the brush and the bush. A single sapling crushed, mid-descent. His shoulder clipping theirs. The sudden unwelcome feel of cold, wet, damp coarse fur against his own and the press of thin bones.

Crash course collision, grossly overcorrected.

Lost—fallen—on his side.

Wet, dark, matted ears pinned back. Black lip raised and curled.

He launched, snapped, sideways and up, open-mouthed.

“Fuck off—"

the staff team luvs u

there was just the slightest curve to the lip of the peaks, arching in just the right way to discourage the rain, where vere had hidden himself in a disgusted frenzy when thunder had first begun to rumble. he had not made it in time, and now, wet and miserable, he pressed his body tight against the back end of the hideout, lip curling into the slightest hint of a snarl with every flash of light. what a terrible week. a terrible month. whatever. a terrible life, one could argue, but he was tired of arguing with himself.

he sat silent and watched little bits of earth fall from above with every clap of thunder.

terrible to say he almost missed the predictable weather of his before. the lack of... loud and sudden. he'd almost begun to surrender himself to having to just wait it out and do nothing, and then the ground above gave a rumble, and, weird, there was no flash of light, and—

loud and sudden and vere would have yelped had not all the air been knocked out of him. he tried to pull back, found his legs hitting and tangling something moving and wet and alive, all flesh and fur; shock and disgust alike rolled inside him. “don't touch me—” he managed, high pitched and distracted, and then — snap!

he veered back with an undignified squeal, a milisecond too slow, spine hitting the wall hard. small clumps of dirt came loose with the impact, raining over his already messed up fur in a gross mixture of ground and mud. what on earth—

the staff team luvs u

Dirt rained down from above.

Tree roots holding on thick, buried deep in the soil and dirt, exposed by the cut of the earth and crumbling walls.

His fur was dark, dark with the rain, and saturated. His paws and legs dirty, streaked with dirt and mud. His undersides soaked.

“Don’t fucking touch me—“

He flailed.

Teeth and leg and muscle and thigh. Limb against limb.

Chaos and anarchy, in the crux of the burrow.

the staff team luvs u

the stranger flailed and vere didn't stand a chance. there were already bruises forming, he could feel them, so with all the petulance of a child he went “you touched me first!” as he tried to pull himself back and back and back and—

they came undone with a strange pop of vere's joints, and he tumbled backwards onto the wet ground, coming to a skid in the mud. oh, disgusting. left side covered and dirty, legs fighting to straighten again and find balance in standing, he only had a moment to register the filth before the full force of the storm was coming down on him and oh, come on.

vere stood right outside the earth's cusp, panting and dripping wet, mud running down his leg, and stared at the larger blonde figure back inside it.

“what—” pant “—is wrong with you.”

the staff team luvs u

She reminded him of the fucking runt.

Obnoxious and fucking annoying. Clingy, too. But unlike fucking her—

He had had fucking meat on his bones. Taller, and heavier, and darker. An obnoxious, annoying fucking brick shithouse.

She was—

She was soft.

Soft, with short blonde fur and too-thin bird bone. Pale—bright—eyes and an even paler face.

‘What,’ she breathed, panted, winded, stood beneath the pouring, drizzling rain, ‘is wrong with you.’

He flushed.

Rankled.

Stood, beneath the dirt. His back pressed to the ceiling.

His ears pinned back, back against his head. His teeth exposed with his lips peeled back, and his dark, off-coloured tongue and gums on display.

“Fuck off.” He snarled.

He didn’t fucking do anything.

It was her fucking fault for fucking being there.

Not fucking his.

the staff team luvs u

this was probably the closest he had ever come to throwing a tantrum.

the stranger grew larger in front of him, fur into fur and teeth into air and back against earth and despite his best efforts vere went down as if on cue, belly close to the ground and legs tucked safely beneath his chest even as his own lips drew back in snarl. there was no way vere would be able to take him in a fight, but he figured there was enough distance to bolt, if it got too rowdy. probably. the prospect of staying out in the rain longer than he had to was not particularly appealing. “very eloquent,” he mumbled, sulkily, half to himself. 

he wanted back in. he remained low, but made no further move to disengage. he was here first.

the staff team luvs u

“Whatever.” He grunted; his ears folded back. His muzzle furrowed in disgust.

He moved on.

Slow, slouched, heavy steps. His movement rigid and stiff.

If she were standing, he would have shoulder checked her.

She wasn’t.

Instead, he bared his teeth. The bridge of his muzzle ridged and furrowed. His upper lip curled and peeled. His tongue mashed forward against the backs of his teeth. When he passed her, he was too close.

“Don’t fucking follow me, runt.”

He left.

the staff team luvs u

it was all vere could do not to spit on the stranger at the look of disgust on his face. asshole. he came closer as he passed and vere pressed lower on the floor, snarl still only a millisecond away from being called, and then—

excuse me.

and just like that the snarl was gone, his ears rose, and vere stared, dumbfounded. the man continued to walk. vere found himself a minute too late, pushing back up, a loud “why the hell—”

he was gone.

what on earth. were they all like that? 

vere stared for a moment longer, but it wasn't really worth it. he snorted and scuttled back into the cusp.

the staff team luvs u