đ Leon Kennedy x Ada Wong đ The Last Carpool
The car window was rolled down a little bit. It was just enough for Chris to stick his cigarette out the window and tap the ash and embers away into the wind. He held it up to his mouth with one hand while his other firmly gripped the steering wheel.
"Smoking's bad for you, you know," Leon commented as he rested his elbow on the door and propped his head up.
The smoke from Chris's cigarette trailed out the window, eerily illuminated by the streetlights passing by above. Silence filled the car, with only the sound of the carâs engine and scent of cigarette fumes disturbing the air. After a few long seconds, Chris removed the cigarette from his mouth.
"Yeah well," he said, smoke escaping from his mouth with every breath, "so are our jobs.â Chris put his cigarette back into his mouth, keeping his eyes fixated on the road ahead. "By the way, how's that liver of yours fairing?"
"Better than your lungs, clearly."
"Those three bottles of Jack Daniel's a night have something to say about that."
"And yet, I can still breathe just fine," Leon said with a shrug.
Chris shook his head slightly in disapproval. "You wonât be able to for much longer once Ada finds out about that Porsche."
That Porsche. That expensive car that Leon left right in the heart of Raccoon City. The city that was nothing more than a dead zone. YeahâŚthat very carâŚin that very cityâŚ
"At least I donât have a daughter to worry about coming home to," Leon said, shifting his gaze to the window.
"You have Sherry."
"Sheâs forty. Besides, she hasnât stayed with me in a long while. You, on the other handâ"
"Rose technically isnât even my daughter."
"Technically. But she might as well be at this point in time. Think about it real long and hard, who is she happier to see: you or Mia?"
"...Jill."
"Well, still counts. Itâs only a matter of time before she stays with you permanently."
"With the nature of Miaâs involvement, or lack thereof, I wouldnât be surprised if that came sooner rather than later," Chris said, with a heavy sigh.
Leon shot him a somewhat perplexed glance. "Youâre acting like that would be a bad thing."
"Itâs not. But every opportunity she has, Jill has been teaching Rose martial arts as her idea of schooling. She even has her asking to train during whatâs supposed to be their down time. Now imagine her once she reaches double digits in age, having a head start in throwing punches before she could even read.â
"Afraid of a little girl, Mr. Valentine?" Leon said with a smug grin.
Chris laughed sheepishly, catching the cigarette in between his fingers as it fell out of his mouth. "Jillâs a force to be reckoned with. Hell, youâve experienced her kicks to the face herself, and now she has a trainee.â
"So, in other words, youâre afraid of both Jill and Rose."
"Not like you have much room to talk. A part of you fears Ada."
"I donât fear her," Leon was quick to clarify, "I listen to her. She tells me to do something, and I do it. Big difference."
"Do you bring back the Porsche when asked?"
Chris slowing down and pulling up to the curb in front of Leonâs house was most conveniently timed. Leon took the opportunity to not say a word in response as he exited the car. Chris was not willing to let him off the hook so easily, as he rolled down his window completely and shouted for him.
"Bastard! You didnât answer my question!"
"The answer doesnât matter if Iâm not going to make it back alive," he replied, not even bothering to spare him a look back.
Chris simply shook his head and rolled up the window.
"...Godspeed, soldier,â he said quietly under his breath before driving off.
In the dead of night, the house was rather quiet, as the sound of the door opening echoed throughout the still atmosphere. That however, did not necessarily indicate that the place was unoccupied. Two cats claimed his home as their domain: one that had followed him back through the streets one evening and one that had been following him since his first time in Raccoon City.
The sound of hissing caught his attention. His catâthe four legged oneâstood upon the armrest, ears flattened and teeth barred. He watched as it leaped off and bolted in front of him, stopping in its tracks to bristle its fur and spit at him one final time before taking off into the darkness of the first floor. Leon looked down at his hands. Though they were now free of signs of infection, they were still filthy. Dirt was caked on by blood and guts, making his familiar scent unrecognizable.
The stairs leading to the bathroom upstairs would be, in theory, his easiest trial as of recent. However, his entire body weighed him down and a sense of helplessness loomed over him as the adrenaline had completely worn off. Leon wearily stood in place and stared at the imposing staircase reaching up before him, dreading that first step of the treacherous climb. Light, graceful footsteps piqued his attention and he turned his head away from the staircase.
"Not even a 'hi honey Iâm home' for me?"
Ada stopped a few paces before him, scanning his disheveled appearance from top to bottom.
"...Hi honey, Iâm home," Leon said with a soft yet tired smile.
"A little late for that," she poked with a playful giggle.
The light was dim and thus it was rather difficult to say for sure, but Leon couldâve sworn that he saw her eyes dart towards the door. Did she notice that the car keys werenât back on the hook? Did she think that it was unusual for him to not hang them up after returning? In a clever way to attempt to divert her attention, regardless of the reality of the situation, Leon leaned forth for a greeting kiss out of habit, but Ada stopped him in his tracks by pushing back on his cheek with her finger.
"Not until youâve had a shower," she said.
"Racoon City sewer water is fine, but you draw the line at a little bit of zombie stink."
"Thatâs radioactive Racoon City zombie stink for the record, darling."
Leon put his head down and nodded. It was an argument that he had already lost before it even began. Ada did have a point somewhat, but she was also acting as if the sewers werenât already radioactive in the 90s.
Even with sad puppy eyes and a pout on his face, Adaâs willpower was unbreakable. But she wasnât enough of a coldhearted woman to leave this matted dog to fend for himself. She threw his arm around her shoulders and guided him up the steps and into the shower, even despite that "radioactive zombie" she was so insistent that Leon clean up before coming any closer to her. Soon, Leon was showered and had retired to their bed, though he was unable to wash himself clean of the many worries that still plagued his mind. The undead that still roamed the city...Grace and her injuries...the car left in the middle of the dilapidated road...
At least his life was one thing he no longer had to worry about for the time being. Rather than claw his throat out, at least for now, Ada crawled into bed and curled up beside him, not saying a word likely under the assumption that he was asleep. He was still unsure if she had become aware that he did not bring home the Porsche, but Leon had no energy to spare for worrying, as he had been awake for well over a day straight. Perhaps all it would take was the span of a night for one cat to forgive his appearance and for another to disregard his negligence.
When he woke up in the morning, or afternoon, or whenever it was, Ada was not beside him. It was nothing unusual and of no cause for concern, so he did not spare her absence a second thought. Slowly, he pulled himself out of bed, not rushed by the obligation of pre-work routine. Not even a missed call from Sherry asking where he was, as she knew he would be impossible to wake after an excursion like that.
Using the wall as guidance as he was still half asleep, Leon made his way down the stairs to the kitchen. At least the cat seemed to be feeling at least neutral towards him now, as it didnât bolt at the first whiff of his scent. With a cup of coffee in hand, he went out front to hopefully enjoy at least a few minutes of fresh, peaceful air before the inevitable phone call.
That peace was short lived. Three steps out of the door, and Leon froze in place in utter disbelief at what he saw.
The Porsche that was supposed to be stranded in the middle of the Racoon City streets had pulled up in front of his house. The window rolled all the way down.
He seemed rather carefree about the claim, but Suisui was bothered by his lighthearted attitude. She hired this little rodent to aid her in Mengzhou as a one and done type of deal, but his five-star mercenary service had her coming back time and again. Soon, a little rat introduced himself as Cat of the Nether Lamp, and this feline's title was eventually shortened to Jingran.
Casual. Easygoing. Yet he was always serious about getting the job done with a smile. After Yangyang was reunited with Suisui safely, her mind was still plagued with concerns over the whereabouts of another. Did Jingran don that same cunning smile, even as he wandered alone through the heavy fog?
Suisui looked at Dumpling, who was laying on the desk by her resting hand. The little bird's body had melted outward like a warm steamed bun fresh out of the pot. Gently, she rubbed her finger on the forehead of her tiny companion. Dumpling looked up at her and purred softly.
"...Youâre wondering about him too, arenât you?" Suisui asked.
Dumpling chirped in response.
Suisui held out her finger in front of Dumpling. She solidified, stretching out her wings and leg before perching upon her finger. Suisui stood up from the desk and glanced over at the window behind Dumpling. She thought for a moment, looking back and forth between it and the little bird tilting her head.
"Iâm sure thatâŚchecking up on him wouldnât hurt," she said
She reached forth and pushed open the window.
âItâs a little more inconspicuous if you investigate on your own. No need to pester himâŚjustâŚsee what heâs up to. And maybe that heâs okay.â
A lot of words were contained in those few little chirps. Why are you thinking about your mercenary? Why do you want to how heâs fairing so badly? Why wonât you go ask him yourself? Why is this cat so special? Why do you shy away from conversation with him even though you are paying him to do your bidding? Why do you look at that eyesore like that? And the answers to those questions, she wasnât too willing to give up so easily, not even to her feathery companion would could only communicate in tweets and chirps. Some of those questions, she wasnât too sure of the answer herself.
But, now was not the time for them to concern themselves with such an interrogation. With a parting side-eye, Dumpling took off, flying away through the window. Suisuiâs doubts had arisen just a moment too late, but what was done was done, and all she could do was stand at the window and watch as she flew off.
â ^. .^ââłËđ â
Nobody could see anything in such thick fog. Jingranâs instincts, however, were honed enough to where he could sense another set of eyes tracking his movement. He pretended to not notice. He merely kept his eyes on the road ahead, as the perpetrator would notice him scanning his surroundings and thus be far more cautious.
The sound of flapping wings grew louder and louder, untilâ
Snatch.
Without sparing the stalker a gaze, he reached up his arm and caught whatever it was in his hand. Curious as to why it wasnât struggling, he held it down in front of him. The fog was just light enough for him to see that his claws had curled around a bird. It wasnât just a common swallow; immediately, he recognized the birdâs appearance. Under the light emitting from his lamp, its golden feathers shimmered almost green under the glow of his lamp.
"Heh, she misses me that bad, doesnât she?" Jingran said, a smile creeping on his face.
Despite the compromising position Dumpling found herself in, she did not struggle against the catâs claws. Rather, she looked at Jingran with beady eyes. He held her up closer, and looked at the little bird all over.
"I suppose she didnât send over anything with you, little fella? No money? No care package? Not even a cute lilâ letter? Or is she following behind, and you just arenât telling me?â
Dumpling remained quiet, not like it could respond in a way that Jingran could understand. The reason as to why she was this far out, no Suisui in sight, was quite puzzling to him. His initial assumption was that she was carrying some sort of message for him, but if she needed anything, Jingran was just a call on the terminal away. Perhaps Dumpling had gotten lost in the fog?
What Jingran wasnât anticipating was Suisui quietly waiting at the window for some sort of response from Dumpling regarding his whereabouts.
Unfortunately for him, Jingran was not fluent in bird, so he would have no way of knowing that. With a shrug, he opened up the palm of his hand and held it up high so that Dumpling had the freedom to fly away. The little bird righted itself onto her feet, but she didnât take off flying.
Jingran, most perplexed, narrowed his eyes and said, "Donât tell me you gave up right as I caught you.â
Chirp, chirp, was all Dumpling had to say for herself.
"Go doâŚwhatever it is that you were sent to do. Suisui is gonna be worried sick about you in due time. Not to mention, if she catches me with you in my hands, there goes my only stable source of company and incomeâŚâ
The two of them stared at each other silently. Dumpling could tell that Jingran was tense, as if he was holding himself back from something. She refused to fly out of the palm of his hand, until the fear of regret overcame the cat and he gently closed his fist around her once more.
âW-wait,â Jingran said, hastily digging through some of his belongings.
He pulled out a scrap of paper and an ink pen, and he held it against a bamboo tree with his arm as he quickly scribbled something on it. Jingran folded it up just small enough so that it Dumpling could carry it with minimal difficulty.
"Take this back to the lass, will ya?" he asked, holding the note up to her beak.
Jingranâs words were clear to her, as she took the note. He opened the palm of his hand, and Dumpling took off headed back in the direction she came. For a few minutes, he watched as the little golden bird disappeared into the fog like a star amongst the morning sky. Then, Jingran changed course to stay low and quietly follow Dumpling.
â đËŕź â
Suisui sat at her desk, having neglected to close the window. The thought to do so had occurred to her once or twice, but she quickly forgot in the midst of her daydreams. Snapping her out back to reality was the sound of familiar wings headed through her window and landing on top of her desk.
"Oh, I didnât think that you would return so soon," Suisui said, pleasantly surprised.
Dumpling dropped the letter in front of her and looked up at Suisui, chirping and tilting her head.
"A delivery?â
She picked up the piece of paper and investigated it. The front of it was signed with a rather rushed doodle of a cat. She unfolded the paper and read:
Order a little something extra?
Suisui blinked at the paper, rather confused. As if it wasnât evident by the scratchy handwriting by itself, Suisui could very much figure out just who sent her that letter thanks to that scraggly cat. She did not recall having any outlying requests for him. The last mission, he had successfully carried out for her and she had paid in full. Suisui looked at Dumpling, as if the little bird would know anything.
Their attention was piqued by a knock, and both of their heads whipped to the side to look directly at the door.
Suisui readied her rectifier as Dumpling safely perched atop her shoulders shielded by her hair. She cracked the door open slowly, but tensions immediately eased upon seeing their visitor.
Leaning up against the doorway, arms crossed and lamp stick relaxed in his hold, was the stray black cat.
"How did youâ"
Before she could finish her question, Suisui was hushed by Jingran. He dangled his lamp right in front of her, kissing her lips with a gentle tap of its base.
"Haha, letâs just say a little birdie showed me the way," Jingran said, glancing at Dumpling and giving her a wink.
Suisui shot Dumpling a side eye. She tweeted in protest, as if to say she had absolutely nothing to do with this.
He mustâve followed Dumpling back to my place after giving her that letter to take back. she thought. A clever little cat, he is.
If it were anyone else, Suisui wouldâve closed the door right in their face. But this visitor, she simply could not bring herself to turn him away. Her residence was in no position to house another person at the moment, but tidying him up a spot to sit with her would be no tall order. In fact, she could just as easily ready a spot for him to sleep for the night, even if the cat had to curl up at the foot of her bed.
Suisui glanced down at the note she still held in between her fingers. She disarmed herself, then opened up the door further.
"Well, you said my order came with a little âextraâ," she said, with a soft smile.
Jingran carefully studied the wide-open doorway in front of him. An air of uncertainty loomed over him, despite being the one to invite himself over in the first place. Seeing as he was still hesitant, Suisui stepped aside, with nothing standing in between him and her warm, cozy house, even if only temporary.
Finally, he came to peace with her acceptance of his self-proclaimed invitation, and Jingran stepped inside. When he walked past her, Suisui caught glimpse of his cunning gaze softening, as if to silently say:
This is it everyone! Today is the day that preorders open for Colorful Nights, a Shuyuka fanzine. Take a look at all of the available bundles:
We also have some stretch goals for the 20, 40, and 60 sales mark!
Lastly, we'd also like to announce that all proceeds towards Colorful Nights will be going towards the Immigrant Defense Project!
Shop Link for Preorders | Charity Link for More Info
is anadyomene going to be split into phaidei and myphai versions regardless? no hate to anyone who likes it but myphai really gives me the ick as a phaidei enjoyer.
hi anon, thanks for the question!
that wasn't our original plan when the zine had started, but recently, we've thought about splitting the zine into separate pdfs and providing a full one for those interested :) also the reason why we have the purchase interest check! if you like phaidei, you're more than welcome to fill out the form and selected phaidei as a preference <3 the more people fill it out, the better we'll be able to format everything on time!
but also, we'd prefer if ick wasn't used for t/b preferences....
people need to be at least a little more respectful when it comes to discussing ships. its fine to have a preference, even i have preferences myself, but there is no need to be rude over how the two exact same characters are paired.
there are real people working on this project, it is basic fandom etiquette to not put down others' work especially when it is unnecessary. all that was needed to ask was if it would be split or not. i think the offer of doing so is already rather generous, especially since it has been clearly stated to include both dynamics from the get-go.
and if you cant flip past content that you do not want to see, then that is on you.
this is not directed towards the project organizers, it has been a very pleasant experience and i appreciate how all works have been treated well even for less mainstream interpretations of their relationship
Carelessness comes in many forms. For some, it means wandering into a trap. For others, it may be biting off more than you can chew. Somehow, an Iberian wolf was the lucky individual to experience all and then some, while still somehow ending up on the sidelines.
-
đThe Last Carpool
đCross posted on AO3đ
No man can outrun death, not even the Leon Kennedy. Alas, fate was bound to catch up with him one of these days, and after one final ride home with Chris, he made his peace that perhaps it was his last night on Earth. He had survived Racoon City, he had survived China, but it was highly unlikely he would survive Ada Wong after neglecting to bring home the Porsche.
Or, the night Leon returned home without the car, finding himself able to avoid questions but not the observant eye of Ada.
Thieves are infamous for having an eye for valuable objects. But who has the right to declare the value that something, or someone, holds? The owner? The market? Or perhaps, the hunter themselves?
Because what Hugo was seeking out that night could not be labeled with any form of monetary value.
đStealing Hearts Is A Few Steps Up From Jewelry
đCross posted on AO3đ
It was time for newly recruited Phantom Thief Belle to have her very first taste of thievery on the front lines. Even though her most beloved partner served as both the mastermind and her teacher, she wasn't too keen on biting off more than she could chew for a first time.
The big game would have to wait, as tempting as the glittering and shimmering may be.
đ Ashveil x Kuchiba đ Stirring Your Noodles Won't Stir Up A Conversation
Ashveil poked his head out of his office door. Across the room, he saw Stelle leisurely sitting at her desk as usual: feet up and computer on. The furbos were harder working than she was, tapping away furiously at their keyboards as if they were employed in a Xianzhou sweatshop. At the very least, it was a sign that there was outstanding work to be done.
"Oh Miss Stelle," Ashveil said.
"Yo," Stelle said, her eyes not moving away from the computer screen.
"I have an inquiry," he said, approaching her desk, "if you donât mind."
"Whaddup?"
"Do you perhaps have a temporary position that I may assume? I... find myself in need of some quick cash."
Stelle moved her head slightly to look at him. "You donât have enough money for a date, is that it?"
"I uh, well...you see-"
"No no, donât bother trying to come up with an excuse," she said, waving her hand at him. "You make it far too obvious anyways."
"Ah...haha..."
"Here," she said, grabbing her phone off of her desk. "Treat her well."
Ashveil felt his phone buzz in his back pocket. He took it out and quickly fumbled to unlock the screen.
"T-twenty thousand credits?" he said in disbelief.
"Donât mention it," Stelle said, returning to the very pressing matter of lounging about in her office chair.
"...Anything but actually hiring me, huh?"
Stelle acted as if she did not hear him.
Even if the ritual of asking the boss was somewhat humiliating, at least Ashveil now had some credits to his name. The last thing he was going to do was to let this brief window of free time slip away, as he was not shameless enough to ask a lady to pay for a date.
âËđŚď˝ĄđŠËâ
Ashveil stirred the chopsticks around slowly. The brown broth glistened from the lights suspended above, tainted only by the seasonings floating on the surface. The thick noodles spiraled in the both, occasionally getting tangled in the chopsticks. Finally, after countless hours of passing off investigations as dates, Ashveil finally had time to spend with Kuchiba, though any plausible topic of conversation had escaped his mind. He had been so on edge racing against the clock to stop this Herald of Death that not even he and Narrator have had the time to spare for such casual chatter.
"Nekomata got your tongue?" Kuchiba asked, finally breaking the silence between the two.
Ashveil continued swirling around the noodles. Perhaps a sense of shyness had been quietly weighing him down.
"I am simply...at a loss for words," he admitted.
"The greatest charmer I know being at a loss for words? Impossible."
Ashveil subtly nudged the bowl under his face so that he could play his burning red cheeks as a side effect of the steam.
"You..."
Kuchiba smiled at him. She twirled some of the noodles in her bowl around her chopsticks then blew them off before eating them.
"So," she asked, "do you have anything that you like to do outside of your work?"
What did Ashveil like to do outside of his detective work? Come to think of it, he had been lacking horribly in leisure time ever since he arrived in Planarcadia.
"When I do have the free time, I do like to watch anime."
"Oh, really? Like what?"
"The Daybreak Squadron, or at least, I used to watch it. Kind of got tired of seeing it after that whole Herald of Death nonsense."
"Understandable," Kuchiba said as she held up some noodles to cool. "I only tuned into a few episodes to see if it would help me understand that case better.â
"And thereâs no other cartoons that run on TV around here either. Itâs all the same ol' 'donât worry be happy' crap."
"Happens when you let one maniac run the television network."
"That should change. But I know it wonât, so I have DVDs for a reason," Ashveil huffed, taking a bite of his noodles while carelessly singeing the tip of his tongue on them.
"You should invite me over to your place then. Introduce me to what you consider worthwhile."
"Ah...Iâd have to ask Stelle if she would lend me her office. I donât exactly own a four-star cinema." Ashveil took another mindless bite of his noodles without cooling them, causing him to once again burn his tongue. "Yeouch!"
"Simmer down, hound dog," Kuchiba said, poking the bottom of his jaw with a chopstick.
"Apffptbbtpbbfttrpftrbtt..."
Ashveilâs tongue dangled out of his mouth, in pain from the hot broth. He continued stirring the noodles in defeat, hoping that they would gradually cool down. Kuchiba smiled at the detective, then went back to eating her own bowl, blowing out the noodles in the chopsticks before taking a bite. Ashveil huffed at himself for not doing so sooner, but it was a little late for that as his mouth had already been burnt.
A more fitting conclusion for Kuchiba to have drawn was that Oroboros had his tongue. That shadow didnât want him to eat, nor did it even want him to speak. All it had managed to do was make him look like a fool. With a pout on his face, Ashveil held up the thick noodles in his chopsticks over the bowl, allowing them to cool before he ate them. Regardless of what he did from there on out, his tongue still stung from the pain.
Kuchiba had finished her bowl before Ashveil. The detective, meanwhile, was struggling to blow off his noodles with a burnt tongue. Things would only grow increasingly awkward for him, until the broth had finally gone cold and Ashveil finished his serving. At least Kuchiba seemed to not mind â her patience was hardened from years of experience in interrogating suspects â but Ashveil could not help but feel guilty nonetheless.
At long last, the check had arrived. Ashveil was held back by hesitation out of fear that he did not possess enough credits to cover the bill. Kuchiba very quickly caught onto the reluctance in his eyes and pulled out her phone. Before she could do anything. he reached forth and grabbed onto her wrist, with just enough gentle pressure to obstruct movement without leaving a single fold upon her jacket.
"Allow me," he said.
He finally forced himself to look at the bill. Just over ten thousand credits, it came to. A relief, as he wouldnât know what to do with himself if he came up even a little bit short. Ashveil, his confidence quickly restored, paid the full bill without a hitch, tip included.
"Things finally moving along in the office, hm?" Kuchiba noted.
"...You could say that."
âËđŚď˝ĄđŠËâ
"Twenty thousand credits? Thatâs more than a monthâs salary for me!" Furbulitzer protested.
"Be thankful I even pay you," Stelle said, further leaning back in her chair.
"Weâve been working around the clock," Paraprince added, "surely, a little extra wonât hurt?"
"Cook up that hit piece that takes the internet by storm and then weâll talk."
"Yes maâam!" the two furbos said in unison.
Stelle certainly did not have any intentions on talking.
The teacups were a little too small for Varkaâs sizeable hands. Nonetheless, he accepted the offering of tea without a complaint. He picked up the cup by the handle in between his fingers and took a sip. He could easily down the entire amount of tea in one gulp, but Varka restrained himself and took only the smallest of sips.
Gathered around him sitting at the table were four ladies, two present in the form of Dodocos. Nicole and Alice happily assumed their human forms, while Barbeloth and Octavia attended as little balls of fluff upon a seat. Varka, in hindsight, was rather out of place. Despite his imposing figure and brash nature, he still managed to fit right in amongst them. Then again, a Grand Master was not the most usual individual amongst the Hexenzirkel.
Varka gently placed the teacup down on the plate. It made hardly a sound as the porcelain dishes clinked against each other.
"Who knew that dandelions could also brew such excellent tea!" Varka complimented.
"Hehe, glad youâre enjoying it,~" Alice said.
"The brewing of tea is just as intricate of a craft as Mondstadtâs beer, Varka," Barbeloth said. "Itâs a form of witchcraft of its own, and dare I say Alice has perfected the spell."
"Ohoho, Barbie, you flatter me."
Octaviaâs ears drooped. "Itâs been far too long since Iâve last been able to taste Aliceâs tea."
"Oh, Iâm sure youâll be able to return soon!"
"The Knights of Favoniusâs expedition in Nod Krai was an outstanding success," Varka said. "Itâs a good sign for not just the future of Mondstadt, but for Teyvat as a whole."
[Which means you might finally be able to rest yourself, Alice.] Nicole said. [No more leaving us to hold down the fort! And more time for tea parties and actually using our magic for what matters most! I havenât even been able to sculpt as much as I want to because it feels like I have no free time.]
"Iâd say it was pretty swell when you used your magic against Dottore. We wouldnât have been able to do it without you," Varka said, nudging Nicole with his elbow.
Nicole giggled as her cheeks turned a rosy pink. Alice, in turn, was most amused at their antics.
"Aww, you two are the most adorable," Alice said, enamored. "You better let me plan the wedding."
A drop of sweat rolled down the side of Varkaâs face. The thought of marrying Nicole did not make him nervous, as it was a future he had prepared himself for long ago. Rather, it was the threat of Alice being their weddingâs planner. Mondstadt wonât be left standing if she was in charge of the ceremony.
"Donât be so nervous, Varka," Octavia said, "many other young men go through exactly what you have."
"Well, itâs not exactly that-"
"Oooh, we can have fireworks!" Alice interjected.
[And party games and a bar and a dance floor and a photographer and a horse carriage and Barbatos and music and the whole church to ourselves and the entirety of the Knights of Favonius in attendance!] Nicole added on.
Terrifying.
"Now now, dears," Barbeloth said, "one step at a time. You wouldnât want the poor lad to explode before he can even ask the question."
Varka could feel the eyes of Dodocos and ladies all shift their focus onto him.
"Me? Explode? Haha, Iâm doing great!" he said, feigning confidence with a thumbs up.
Nicoleâs poorly restrained giggle only caused him to turn red, and so he slipped away from the conversation by turning his head and taking a sip of his tea.
While Varka was pretending to not be present, the silence did not last too long as Octavia spoke up.
"So Alice, how's Klee doing?"
"Ah...I havenât seen my darling little Klee in a while. She sounds lively enough from the phone calls we have had, but I still worry about her getting lonely."
[Iâm sure being put into solitary confinement doesnât help.]
"It doesnât. Take it from me," Alice said, crossing her arms.
"That little lass will make a fine Knight, should she learn how to better distinguish when and when not to use explosives," Varka said as he placed his teacup down. "For a girl her age, thereâs only so much training sheâs willing to tolerate in one sitting. At least she gets to play with my kiddos sometimes, but..."
Alice, Barbeloth, and Octavia's gazes all shifted to focus on Varka.
"Huh? Did I say something?"
"Oh my!" Barbeloth said. "Grandchildren already!"
"W-wait! Itâs not like that!" Varka quickly corrected. "Theyâre not even mine technically. Iâve merely taken them under my wing."
[Hmm, are you sure about that?] Nicole said, raising an eyebrow. [Because Razor definitely sees you as a father figure. Even if the wolves took care of him for quite some time, you still taught him everything that he knows. Mikaâs just a fledgling, but only someone with the Grand Master to look up to would be that bold of an adventurer at such a young age. And we canât forget Sucrose, who is an adorable little thing, but I certainly wouldnât mess with whatever sheâs been brewing in that lab.â
"Haha, I suppose they all have taken after me in one way or another. But Nicole, dear, that would, by all technicalities, make you their mother."
The other three Hexenzirkel witches shifted their gazes to Nicole. Alice contemplated for a moment, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.
[Oh my, that is most delightful!]
"They already admire you greatly,â Varka said, âespecially Sucrose, who always has been a little shy to discuss even her experiments in alchemy. She really does want to talk to you more. You might as well formally accept your title at this point.â
Alice leaned in closer to loudly whisper into Nicoleâs ear. "If youâre going to be a mother, might as well go for the full experience..."
"Alice!" Barbeloth said, the little Dodoco bouncing upwards.
Alice and Nicole giggled, though at the expense of Varka who was hiding his face. Fifty-year-old man, who had experienced death firsthand, embarrassed by the concept of creating new life...
"Well," Octavia said, "at least itâs a more responsible option compared to the route Rhinedottir took."
"Albedo and Durin arenât all that bad..." Alice said.
"Subject Two caused a massive headache for the Knights," Varka mentioned.
[And Durin...well...] Nicole trailed off.
"Oh, Celestia forbid a woman have a little fun with her creations!" Alice said.
Celestia did, in fact, forbid. Varka met Nicoleâs gaze silently. Her eyes darted back and forth between him and Alice. Neither of them said anything, telepathically or otherwise.
Varka simply picked up the teacup in front of him and took a sip, rather than open his mouth. Of course the witch who gives her child explosives as toys wouldnât see a problem with it. But Varka didnât really have much ground to stand on, given the nature of some of the Knights he has raised.
"Oh Rhinedottir...Alice...whatever are we going to do with your children," Barbeloth lamented.
Alice crossed her arms and huffed.
[Razor, Sucrose, and Mika are all very well behaved. I donât think any of us will have a reason to worry about them. Well, for the most part anyways. I wouldnât be surprised if Sucrose finds herself a spot at our table in the near future.] Nicole said.
"Youâre practically treating them as your own already. How lovely!" Alice said.
"Well, at least thereâs a better chance of them turning out alright," Octavia noted.
If Rhinedottir was around, she would certainly have a few words of protest.
"Nicole brought Varka along with her. Iâm not sure sheâs entirely without blame."
"I am an innocent man here," Varka protested, taking a sip of his tea.
When he had glanced down at his cup as he was setting it back down, he noticed that not a single drop of tea remained. It was impressive enough that he had managed to make such a relatively small amount last for as long as he did. At this point, Varka felt it would be rude to overstay his welcome, as if he were to ask for another cup, he might as well ask for the entire teapot for how much he drinks on the norm.
"Ah, as much as I would like to stay and chat with you ladies, Jean will only continue to stack more papers on my desk the longer I am away," he said as he started to slide out of his chair.
Varka, however, was stopped in his tracks by the feeling of something fluffy atop his shoulders, wrapping around his mouth. He turned his head to the side to see the dot-eyes of a blue-tailed Dodoco shimmering with an ominous glint unlike any he had seen before.
"Leaving so soon, dear?" Barbeloth said. "You only just got here! Why not sit back down and have yourself another cup of tea?"
Fearing for his safety, Varka, sweat rolling down the side of his face, sat back down as instructed. Although his airways were free of Barbelothâs fluffy tail, his mouth was sealed shut as he was stunned into silence. Alice refilled his cup, while Nicole looked at him with an awfully devious smile.
Slumped on the couch, fast asleep, and snoring heavily, Blade was unaware of the small crowd gathering around him. Silver Wolf reached out and poked his arm a few times with her finger. Nothing. Not even a stir or a grumble in retaliation.
"Yep. He's asleep," Silver Wolf said.
Without missing a beat, she reached forth and slipped the cell phone out of his hand.
"Oh dear, what could you possibly be planning?" Kafka inquired.
Silver Wolf tapped in his passcode to unlock the screen, almost as if she knew it as well as her own. "Not like he uses this thing much anyways, so might as well make that phone bill good for something."
Out of pure curiosity, Kafka leaned over Silver Wolfâs shoulder. In theory, she should be telling her off for the invasion of a fellow Hunterâs privacy. Blade, however, used his phone so infrequently that she couldnât help but wonder just what all he actually had on it. Upon unlocking his phone, it was actually quite unsurprising to see a home screen devoid of apps.
His hands were not as dexterous as they had been in the past. Therefore, his fingers were not well-suited to controlling a touchscreen. What did remain among the default apps that piqued Silver Wolfâs curiosity was the photo gallery. Its contents could go one of two ways: dreadfully empty, or six hundred images of weapons. Kafka could see the silent desire in her eyes tap on it and open it up.
"Go on, Wolfie," she said, "I know youâre tempted."
Her eyes darted off the screen to side-eye Kafka. She couldnât tell if she was joking at first, but Kafka harbored the same sense of morbid curiosity. Silver Wolf was almost expecting her to change her mind and say no, but after a few moments of silence, she shrugged her shoulders and tapped on the gallery. They werenât exactly sure what they were expecting, but it certainly wasnâtâŚthat.
There were a few images downloaded off of the internet; they seemed to a mix of various artistic references or recipes. That was hardly interesting compared to the contents of his camera gallery, however.
It was one singular folder.
Inside of it, almost six thousand images.
The two exchanged glances before Silver Wolf tapped on it. The screen instantly filled up with...what appeared to be six thousand images of Sesame.
"...Bladeâs fat cat?" Silver wolf said, raising an eyebrow.
"Heâs not fat, just big boned," Kafka said.
"Yeah, whatever, does he really just take pictures of his cat when no one is looking?"
Silver Wolf scrolled through his gallery some. It would seem that way. There were pictures of Sesame rolled over, Sesame getting belly rubs, Sesame pestering Firefly, Sesame asleep, Sesame blending into the carpets...that was Sesame Cake, but same difference.
"Damn," Silver Wolf said. "He loves that cat."
"Oh, he really does! My Bladie is adorable, isnât he?"
"Sure."
While Kafka was too enamored by Blade's apparent endless pictures of his cat, Silver Wolf continued mindlessly scrolling through his phone. At one point, she abruptly stopped in her tracks, and scrolled up to find pictures that were, shockingly, not of Sesame or the cat cakes. The image that caught her eye was of her and Firefly at an arcade, playing a claw machine.
That particular machine was causing a great amount of trouble for Firefly, she recalled. Silver Wolf was able to conqueror it with little difficulty. Was she aware that she hacked it? Probably. But it seemed as if Blade found the entire thing most amusing. He was probably smiling and chuckling to himself while those two were too sidetracked hurling various profanities at the unit.
Silver Wolf shot a quick side eye at Kafka. She was still giggling at the sheer number of pictures of Sesame, so she scrolled past to save herself the wrath of secondhand embarrassment. Mixed in amongst the pictures of Sesame were blocks full of pictures of the Stellaron Hunters. She never knew him to be much of a picture taker, which was evident by the somewhat mediocre quality of the images. The most plausible conclusion that she could draw was that he mustâve taken them when they werenât looking.
But what stood out to her the most were the sheer amount of one certain Stellaron Hunter amongst his gallery. Sure, there was a fair abundance of shots of Firefly, Silver Wolf, and even Elio and Terminus. But the one that appeared the most above all else was-
"Kafka," Silver Wolf said.
"Hmm?" Kafka uttered, opening her eyes and tilting her head.
Silver Wolf did not say anything. Rather, she held up the phone screen for Kafka to look at. She glossed over the few pictures of the other hunters before her eyes widened at the sight of the pictures of her. Many pictures, in fact.
"Oh...Bladie..." she said under her breath.
Silver Wolf rolled her eyes. A little too corny for her taste. She simply stood back as Kafka scrolled through his gallery with sparkles in her eyes. The contents, she could only begin to imagine, and so she truthfully had no interest in confirming her assumptions for herself.
After having enough of watching her scroll enamored, Silver Wolf finally said, "Yo, Kafka."
Her words didnât seem to register in her mind.
"Kafka," she said once again.
"Oh...yes Wolfie?" Kafka said, just barely able to pry her eyes off of the screen.
"Look, we donât have time to dig through every single picture in his gallery."
Kafka looked back and forth between Silver Wolf and the screen, then reluctantly handed his phone back to her. She truly had no basis in the argument, as she shouldâve told her to leave his phone alone in the first place. And yet, Blade still remained asleep on the couch. As Silver Wolf was closing out all that she had opened, Kafka stopped her before she turned the screen off.
"Wait, why donât we leave Bladie a little surprise for him to discover later?" Kafka said.
Silver Wolf cocked her head.
"A little selfie wouldnât hurt. Think of it as a memento for the road.~"
"Heâll have far too many questions as to why that ended up on his phone in the face place.â
"Thatâs what makes it a fun little surprise," Kafka said with a wink.
âYouâre the boss. But if he asks, it was your idea and yours alone.
Silver Wolf opened the front camera and two of them crammed their faces into the frame. She took a quick picture, closing out of the camera quickly without even bothering to check if the picture even looked half decent. With the screen turned off, she slipped it right back into his hand just as she had found it.
áâ ^..^ââĄ
It wasnât until some time had passed when Blade opened his gallery and saw an unfamiliar image at the top of his gallery. He didnât recall taking it; in fact, there was no way he would have been able to approach them for such a photograph without mass amounts of teasing. The most reasonable and unsurprising conclusion was that someone (Silver Wolf) had unlocked his phone and another someone (Kafka) suggested the cute little idea. A bigger surprise, however, would be the new lock screen that Silver Wolf would discover the next time she grabbed his phone.
đŚLeon Kennedy x Ada WongđŚButterfly On Your Nose
A loud, violent snap pierced through the forest, disturbing perching birds and sending skittish creatures into hiding. It was not unusual for twigs and tree branches to break under the force of gravity or any other cause, but the sound was too fast and too clean to be natural. For a split second, the Iberian wolf's ears were piqued before whipping its nose around reflexively in response to the sudden pain shooting through its back leg. The teeth of a steel trap clamped down on its lower leg, rendering it immobile.
Attempting to pull itself out of the trap only resulted in greater pain. It could feel the metal burying further into its flesh, stripping away its fur and staining the ground red. Fighting against the aches shooting through its entire body, it turned around and gnawed at the steel in an attempt at prying apart even the slightest window of escape. The man-made metallic jaws were too strong for it to even budge, and so in defeat, it yelped and whined, hoping to luck out and receive some form of assistance. Its cries were almost as piercing as the initial snap, until they softened down to defeated whimpers.
From around the walls of the cabin, the wolfâs ears picked up signs of movement. It could not precisely discern the creatureâs identity, but regardless of what it was, it made peace with its inevitable fate. Whatever it was, it would either turn away disinterested, leaving the wolf to slowly and painfully die of starvation, or the mysterious visitor was most opportunistic, and the wolf was a free meal served up on a silver platter.
As hopeless as the creature was, it still whimpered and tugged at its leg.
The culprit behind the movement made themselves known. From an initial glance, he appeared to be a hunter, as he was well equipped and carrying a gun in his hand. His clothing was stained red, and his short blonde hair was streaked with blood. Clearly, he had just claimed a prize just moments ago, and the wolf was next. Though its instincts were to bear its teeth and assume defense, the wolf was in no position to even bristle its fur.
The man caught sight of the wolf out of the corner of his eyes then walked up and knelt down in front of it. In a pitiful manner, the wolf locked gazes with him and wagged its tail weakly. At that distance, all it would take to kill it was a bullet to the forehead, a knife to the throat, or even a quick turn of its neck.
The two of them stared each other down. Perhaps the wolfâs mind was blurred by its acceptance of death, but the manâs eyes had the shine of one of the wolfâs own kin, though with a certain air of sadness amongst their obvious human appearance. He stood up and walked around behind the wolf, then pried the trap apart, freeing its leg.
The instant that it felt the pressure be removed from its leg, the wolf clumsily bounded forwards a few paces. Despite the sore wound that still lingered, the freedom was most appreciated. Before turning bolting off into the woods, the wolfâs eyes met the manâs once again. In that moment, it was unsure of what he was going to do. A significant distance now separated the two, but that didnât mean that a single bullet could make its escape all for naught, no matter how fast its weary paws could carry it.
"Go on, boy," he said. "Youâre free now."
Such words were not fully comprehensible to a wild four-legged creature. Still, his gun was lowered and he kept his distance, enough of a sign for the wolf to take this window of opportunity to run back deep into the forest, though this time, more aware of where its paws were stepping. No more wandering too close to cabins hoping for a quick and easy steal; deep in the forest was where it belonged blissfully unaware of any potential human inhabitants. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the wolf, expecting to not run into any humans in the Spanish wilderness was a most improbable hope.
The wild wolf was only just that. The business of humans did not concern it, even if its leg was ensnared by the craftsmanship of human hands.
Its strides still had a limp to them as the wound was still fresh, but instinct drove the wolf to run as far away from the cabin in the woods as possible. After no men were within its sight, at least from where it stood upon the ground, the wolf slumped against a tree, exhausted. Its wound had clotted, exhaustion from blood loss still lingered. The wolf leaned up against the bark of the tree and drifted off to sleep.
In the middle of a most lengthy nap, it was disturbed by a strange itch upon its nose. It opened its eyes groggily, expecting to be greeted by the sight of some stray grass having worked its way into its nostrils. Swiping the blades away with its paws would be a simple solution to that issue if that where the case, albeit a bit annoying having to move while it was comfortable. Still half asleep, its nose twitched, body still weighed from exhaustion and slumber.
The culprit was not the grass, but rather, a butterfly perched upon its nose. Its wings were outlined in black and shimmered a brilliant copper-red in the sunlight. The temptation was strongâŚto put things lightly. The insect was rather bold for choosing to stand upon the nose of a predator. Not out of malice, but more so out of playfulness, the wolf softly nipped at the butterfly, but it took off flying before a tooth could snag on its body. Naturally, the sight of a beautiful little bug flying about was too much for a grown puppy to simply ignore. The wolf rose to all fours, body still heavy from exhaustion, but with rejuvenation nonetheless. It watched as it flew around, tail wagging, before clumsily attempting to bite at it once more.
If the wolf truly intended to kill the butterfly, it couldâve shredded its wings with ease. As the butterfly flew off, the wolf trotted after it with happy strides. The wolfâs eyes were shining with the copper-red reflected by its wings as it happily continued hopping up and biting at the air around it. Without any destination or goal in sight, the two traveled across the woods by each otherâs side, going back and forth almost as if they were teasing each other. Even after their bursts of energy had simmered down, they continued traveling leisurely by each otherâs side. It was a strange friendship between two of mother natureâs seemingly different creatures, though the true demeanors of a rugged wolf and a graceful butterfly were more alike once the conflict of species was set aside.
As the wolf continued to trot along, eyes fixated on the butterfly, it was not paying much attention to the path ahead of it. Without its focus elsewhere, it could very well spell disaster for the wolf who had already proved itself to be most clumsy and careless. It was most unfortunate to have seemingly not learned from its mistakes, as it was once more stopped in its tracks, only this time by walking directly into something. Perhaps from sheer secondhand embarrassment, the butterfly flew away becoming lost amongst the trees. The wolf did not notice its departure, though it mattered not as it would be unable to chase after it. At that moment, it had far bigger problems to deal with.
The wolf had walked right into the legs of a woman. Curious. Hasnât it run far enough away from any human-claimed land? The wolf looked up at the woman and tilted its head, addressing the situation. Neither of them spoke as the wolf wagged its tail while the two of them attempted to figure each other out.
The woman spoke to the wolf, her look of curiosity turning into a smile,
"Arenât you a darling little thing?" she said, kneeling down to its level.
It took a step back cautiously, but by the tone of her voice, she seemed more endeared than anything. Still, the wolf held its ground, but allowed its tail to continue wagging as its nose twitched towards the woman.
"You remind me of someone familiar," she observed.
She reached forth and gently ran her fingers through the fur on the side of the wolfâs face. Though it was little perplexed, the wolf accepted her gesture and happily leaned into her touch. She looked at the wolf with such fondness as if she were reconciling with a friend long assumed lost. But the wolf had only just seen her for the first time mere moments ago. What else could possibly share the same brilliant blue eyes as the wolf? Who or what could the woman possibly be thinking of that she saw it even in a wild animal?
It would certainly be one hell of a coincidence, but an option at hand wasnât entirely impossible.
The wolf nudged her hand aside and softly clamped its jaws down on her short dress, which was reminiscent of the butterfly that had accompanied it earlier. It looked up at her, then tugged on it.
"Hmm? Do you have something you need to show me?" she asked.
Releasing her dress from in between its fangs, the wolf bounded back a few paces and barked at her. It could all be for naught; it had no way of knowing if there was any correlation between the two. There was no guarantee that he would even still be there once the wolf backtracked towards the cabin. Nonetheless, it was worth a shot, as the wolf was in debt to the hunter regardless. With more curiosity rather than certainty, the wolf wagged its tail. At the very least, she harbored a little bit of interest in what the wolf was pulling her aside for, despite her apparent preoccupation. For a moment, she looked back, before deciding to follow the wolf back through the woods.
With a pleased bark, the wolf started to lead her back towards the cabin. As it ran ahead, it kept its ears up, listening for any traces of that man along the way. On an occasion, it would turn its head around and check that the woman had not lost sight of it, but her pace never once slipped. Navigating through the trees and traps of debris, she moved akin to a nimble black cat weaving through obstructions like they were nothing. Thus, a most unexpected yet potentially disastrous question presented itself: Was it truly wise to potentially reunite a man with the spirit of a canine and a woman with the soul of a feline?
An animal cannot think with such human logic. Still, it instinctively worried, as the off chance of bringing back a most hated rival could undo every ounce of goodwill within that hunter for freeing the wolf from the trap. It was too late to turn back, and so the wolf did not allow itself to miss a single stride on the hunt for that man.
From a few paces behind the wolf, the woman observed the wolf as it led her through the forest. Blue eyes and smile aside, he truly was the spitting image of him. What stuck out to her the most, though, was the wound that it bore upon its back leg. It was quite fresh, as its fur was still stained red with blood. And yet, despite this, it was still running forth through the woods seemingly on a mission.
"Leading me around while acting like you arenât dragging an injury behind,â she thought out loud. âIf I didnât know better, I would think that you knew him personally."
âËâšđĽ đŚâšËâ
The two of them had diverted off course in search of the origin behind a most fearsome roar. Two separate goals kept the two united; the wolf felt a duty to stand up for its territory, while the woman had a feeling of who had ventured this far into the wilderness stirring up trouble with the locals. With every holler and roar, the wolfâs ears pointed in the direction of the sound. Eventually, they were led to a dead end, where one more step forward would send either one of them tumbling into an arena below.
The fall onto the ground wasnât a concern. Rather, it was the massive, humanoid-like creature thrashing about. And fighting it was that same hunter that had pried apart the steel jaws to free the wolfâs leg.
If there was any time to repay its debt, it would be now. The wolf barked loudly a few times. Briefly, the fighting ceased as both man and abomination stopped to look towards the wolf.
"Itâs that dog again!" he said.
Pleased to have been remembered, the wolf barked and wagged its tail. The look of surprise on his face quickly turned to disbelief. The wolf turned its head to the side and notice that the woman who had accompanied it now stood beside it. The smile on her face told the wolf all that it could possibly need to know.
"Did you miss me, darling?" she said.
"Ada?" he said in shock.
The creature swung its arms towards the man, and he just barely escaped with his body in one piece. There was no time to spare in awe of the coincidence, so the wolf leapt down from its position into the arena with the man. It almost knocked him over as it ran past his legs, then firmly planted its paws in the ground and barked as loudly as it could. The monster turned its attention to the wolf, clearly irritated by its barking, then stomped forth towards it. Using its small size to its advantage, the wolf avoided being slammed into the ground by its fists, escaping between the monsterâs legs and taunting it once more.
Growing increasingly frustrated with the little pests circling around and stinging its body, the monster turned towards the wolf and let out an earth-shattering roar. Raising both of its arms up in the air, it ran towards the wolf, fully intent on smashing it to a red stain in the soil. To its right was a building, to the left was the wall, so the wolf braced itself to once again slip out from beneath it and avoid the aftershocks of its slam.
While the monster was focused on eradicating the ear-splitting headache, it had failed to account for Ada, who was watching the man and the wolf run and poke at the monster like desperate little ants. The monster leaned back, winding up a slam, but something shot around its wrists and bound them together. Losing balance, it tipped onto its side, where a black parasite wiggled out of its back from the impact against the ground. The wolf ran up to it and sunk its fangs into it, revolting taste on its tongue be damned. The man was furiously sawing away at the parasite, holding down the flailing appendage with one hand.
The final nail was put into its coffin by Ada, who blew the appendage off with one clear shot from her handgun. With one final dying roar, the monsterâs convulsing stopped, not even twitching when the wolfâs paw pried at it. The man and the wolf turned to look at her, who simply lowered the gun and looked at him with a sly smile.
âGetting yourself into trouble again, Leon?â she said.
At least the wolf now had names to put to faces. Though, it couldnât help but feel as if it had become an unwanted extra in a party of two.
âI had things perfectly under control before you even got here,â he argued.
Even the wolf didnât believe that, expressing its disbelief with a bark.
âUnder control?â she said, nudging him back with the tip of her gun upon his nose. âThe little mouse I saw running in circles says otherwise.â
âA certain cat just couldnât keep her paws off of anotherâs prey.â
âYouâre acting like you arenât enjoying it.â
The wolf barked a few times, almost as if to remind the two that it was, indeed, still present. It was bracing to pry Ada away at a momentâs notice, but to some reason, Leon seemed rather happy to be stuck between her and the corpse of a monster. It was at just the right height to bite onto her dress and tug her away, but that smile that he was suppressing made the wolf think otherwise about its actions. After having to sink its teeth into the nastiest earthworm yet, it was a bit irritated to have been forgotten so easily. It simply sat down on the ground, grunting a little under its breath.
âReally? In front of the dog?â Leon said.
The wolfâs eyes looked up as if to say, Oh, now you acknowledge me.
âBothered by a little puppy, are we?â Ada poked.
âI think the dogâs the most bothered out of all of us.â
Which, wouldnât be a lie. The wolf had fulfilled its duties; it had no reason to hang around these two any longer. Ada turned to look at the disgruntled canine, as if finally realizing its presence despite numerous barks and growls.
âThis cutie? Bothered?â she said, crouching down to squish her fingers in between the fur on its cheeks.
Its tongue hung out as it raised its head in pleasure. The attention wasnât so badâŚwhen it could actually get some. But it seemed as if someone else wasnât too happy with Adaâs attention being directed elsewhere.
âThat thing could have fleas,â Leon said.
As if that stopped him from freeing the wolfâs leg from the trap just earlier.
âIâll remember that next time youâre covered in dirt with a bullet hole in your chest,â Ada said, still petting the wolf.
Leon apparently had nothing to say about that, as he crossed his arms and looked away with a huff. The wolf let out a huff too, though not for the same reasons.
âJealous of a wolf, are we?â she said.
âNo.â
An answer that neither Ada nor the wolf found very convincing. Taking advantage of his guard being down, Ada grabbed Leon by the shirt and pulled him down to her level near the ground. The wolf stood there, tail falling down, and tilted its head. Sticking around would bring it no further benefit, as its presence was seemingly only being used to provoke Leon.
With the path ahead now being opened, the wolf took advantage of the two being preoccupied to make a stealthy departure back into the woods. There was a lesson to be learned here about straying too close to human establishments, hoping to score easy pickings. As a result, the wolf was to carry a mark of its foolishness upon its back leg everywhere it went, until the day it died and flesh rotted into the ground.
Sometimes, the wolf would think back to the clever Ada and cocky Leon, whenever a butterfly landed atop its nose.
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