nothing more cruel than to by loved by everybody (but you)

He climbed up the mountainside.

He climbed down the mountainside.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Ad nauseum.

Day in, and day out.

---

“Half-and-half!” He barked, down at the frail, fragile, feeble, pain-in-his-ass old fucking man.

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There wasn't much happening these days that kept him tethered to the borders of Vanderfell, so today he had told @Ira he would wander a bit. To familiarize himself better with the landscape and possibly see a path, he could take @Rea down for their own adventure and teach her how to navigate the world without a nose that others heavily relied on.

Instead of a pleasant little walk, he found something else a little more intriguing. The little blonde he had left in the pass and on the beach with the tale of sea beasts waiting to devour him whole. What was he up to now? “Ah so the sea beast didn't get you in the end did it?” He sauntered up with a bright smile on his face.

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And like a cat just doused in water—

He rankled.

His ears splayed back. A sour expression on his face.

“Fuck off, old man.” He barked. “That never fucking happened.”

Fuck, he hated him.

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Honestly, why was this lad so angry all the time? Hieronymous had only been kind - well... perhaps there was a little bit of teasing and prodding at the boy's ire but really, when will he learn?

“I can see that, you're still standing here after all.” But like a child around a hot stove, Hieronymous felt the urge to keep poking. See how far he could take this young man before he snapped or saw that his attitude would get him nowhere around the jester king of vanderfell.

“Then again, maybe even to a mighty sea beast you may be a bit too bitter for it.”

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He scoffed.

His ears pressed flat, back against his head.

He wasn’t fucking dumb enough to insist he wasn’t too fucking bitter to get eaten by some fucking fish in the ocean. And fuck, if he wanted him dead, he should have just fucking said so.

Everyone else already fucking had.

“Whatever, old man.” He grunted.

He had better shit to fucking do than argue with his senile old ass all day.

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“Is there a reason why you're always so crotchetty?” Okay okay, enough teasing. The lad wasn't biting and was rather more keen on walking away. There was no real reason for Hieronymous to continue to poke the bear other than just nailing in his claim about the pass being difficult to navigate through earlier.

Perhaps now he could try to mend this. If the lad would allow him to offer an olive branch.

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He started walking.

First around his senile ass directly in his fucking way, and then further down the forested path. Dark dirt and green trampled grass underfoot. His pace slow; slow enough for whenever grandpa realized he could fucking shamble along behind him.

His shoulders neutral.

Broad, and slouched. The bone—the muscle—moving with his every step, beneath his skin, beneath his fur.

His ears pressed back against his head.

His tail deadweight between the hocks of his back legs.

And—

“Who fucking said I was fucking crotchety.” He grunted.

And who the fuck even was he, saying shit like that, his fucking mom?

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The blonde continued ahead, while Hieronymous - both a little guilty for this anger of his, as well as curious, continued to prod along behind. His little limp barely hindering the High King's movements for now as he easily kept up from behind. At first Fate's Summit's mountainous terrain was difficult, he found himself incapable of walking much in his earlier days - but now he was one with the stone and rock. Slithering with an awkward limp grace.

“Mhm, I think that speaks for itself.” He chuckled along, tossing his head skyward with a light laugh on his tongue. “What's got you so grumpy then? Are you like this with everyone or are you still bitter about the maze?”

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‘What’s got you so grumpy then?’

It was his first strike, against him.

And it landed, heavy and ugly, between his shoulder blades. The tension creeping in.

He kept walking.

His ears now furrowed back, tight, against his head.

His shoulders drawing around him; edging towards his ears.

“I got out the maze.” He said. His voice low.

Or was that not fucking enough for him, now?

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“I can see that! For a while, I thought you perished within its walls.” He kept up his trot with the grumpy lad. While the other was bothered and irked, Hieronymous was the complete opposite with a smile on his face and a banner waving gleefully in the wind with his head held high.

“You don't seem too happy about it though. Did I upset you that I wasn't there to watch your victory?” A tilt of his head was offered as he gazed at the back of the lad's head.

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“Whatever.” He grunted. Both his ears drawn back.

He was just being an ass, now.

He was fucking over it.

---

For the rest of the walk, he walked in silence. However long it took for half-and-half to get the fucking hint and fuck off.

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The blonde was quiet and continuously shrugging off Hieronymous' attempt to reach out to him. There was something there he was certain. But what the man just couldn't put his paw on... So he followed the lad in silence while the High King pondered what to do...

In moments like these, perhaps words weren't what was necessary. But perhaps something that spoke deeper - to the soul where simple words could just not reach. With a quick trot to walk shoulder to shoulder to the blond, Hieronymous broke out every last tool he had in his arsenal to try and break through the grouchy boy. “Oh, I bid farewell to the shores and the land —”

“And I paddle away from brave Vanderfell's white land —” Oh he hoped the blonde would listen at least, letting a song in his heart and bring with him during his travels. Even if he didn't like Hieronymous nor did they ever bridge their differences, perhaps the song could uplift him in the next few days. “To search for my long ago forgotten friends, To search for the place I hear all soldiers end—”

---

Song here edited by Hiero to fit wolf language

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And like a tick he couldn’t fucking shake—

He followed him.

Glued and pressed to his side like the sad, weak, dawdling, senile old fucking man he was. No family to fucking love him. No family to fucking watch him.

Until—

‘Oh, I bid farewell to the shores and the land,’

His ears pressed back.

His eyes bulged.

Bewildered, by the fucking sound coming out of his fucking old man mouth.

And—

“What the fuck are you doing?” He barked.

And then—

“Fucking stop.”

Fucking freak.

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The other wasn't receptive.

Shocker. Really.

He was always so prickly, so closed off even to song!

Jeez, Hieronymous was running out of tricks and ideas to make this lad less wound up.

“Come now, relax, you're so high-strung just listen.”

“As the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind
I'll search without sleeping 'til peace I can find — maybe one day you'll learn the lyrics~”

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‘As the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind—’

He lunged.

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the blonde lunged, cutting off the musical notes sung by the hog king. He did little to move out of the way, thinking that perhaps the guy needed a good win or at least to blow off some steam.

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