"Grian!"
Grian opened his eyes and stared at the darkness above him. For a moment he was scared that something bad have happened while he was asleep and that's why Scar is calling his name in the middle of the night. But Scar didn't sound scared. His voice was as light as always. Maybe more impatient and nervous this time, which was weird, but nothing too alerting. One time he woke Grian up just to watch the stars - as if they didn't see them every night before that. Scar had also accidentally woke him up by speaking to his bee once. Grian sighed, mentally preparing himself for whatever Scar had in mind this time.
"What?" he asked and closed his eyes again. He dug his way further under his blanket.
"Rise and shine!" Scar giggled and pulled the blanket off of him.
Grian sent an annoyed glare at his ally. There he stood, oddly excited and just too smug for his own good.
"What do you want," Grian said, not bothering to make it sound like a question.
"I've got a little something for you."
Grian measured his chances of getting back to sleep. Without a blanket, it was an impossible task. He was already getting cold. And if he'd stole Scar's blanket, Scar would simply steal it back.
"Fine," he said. He turned to lay on his back so he could face Scar. "Where is it?"
"Ah! That's the spirit."
"Scar."
"It's actually... not ready yet."
"What?" for the (at least) third time this week, Grian found himself to be angry at Scar. "Why would you wake me then?"
"Waking you up has everything to do with my little something, I swear on my hat." Scar said very officially. "It has a significant role in my plan."
"Your plan?" Grian asked, suddenly not so angry anymore. "This is getting interesting."
"That's what I'm saying."
Grian snorted and got up. And shivered. Desert nights were not nice. Well, the days there weren't pleasant either. At their first few weeks out there he and Scar were constantly catching colds. Their bodies hadn't adjusted to the constant change of extreme heat and chilling cold back then. If anyone really was that interested in the sand Scar tried so hard to monopolize, they'd win the desert over back then just because Scar and Grian had running nose all the time.
"So, where is my..."
Grian trailed off when Scar stepped closer and covered his eyes with a piece of fabric. Grian flinched and blinked, confused. Scar was tying a knot on the back of his head.
"And what's that?" Grian chuckled.
"This? Oh, this is your scarf. Too tight?.."
"No, it's fine. Scar, I want to sleep. Just don't make it take too long, would you?"
Scar hummed something that couldn't count as an agreement by any stretch and put his hands on Grian's shoulders. Grian grumbled but didn't fight Scar when he walked him to the...
"I'm not going outside," Grian said sternly when he realized that Scar walked him right to the front door. Scar continued pushing him forward.
"Yes you are!" Scar objected cheerfully.
Grian held onto the door frame for dear life. He tried slapping his wings against Scar's torso, but they were, as always, too weak and small to do any damage.
"No I'm not! It's cold! Get off me!"
They fought for a few more seconds before Scar finally pushed him out and closed the door with a loud thud.
"Scar!"
Grian spun around, planted his fist on the now closed door and tore the scarf off of his head.
"Let me in, you piece of fish! It's freezing!"
"Please put the scarf back on," Scar said from the inside. "I promise it won't take too long."
He stood there, alone, at the mercy of the cold wind and the cold sand, without his poncho, at night, and monsters still wandered onto their land sometimes despite all their efforts of lighting it up with torches. And Scar had the nerve to ask him to put the blindfold back on.
Griand huffed and put the blindfold back on.
"Is it on?"
"It is, you worm."
Scar didn't say anything else. There were sounds of things getting moved around and some quiet muttering but Grian couldn't make anything out so he gave up on listening and sat down on the sand instead. It was more than uncomfortable and cold but he didn't feel like standing on their porch like an idiot for the rest of the night.
If he could see, he'd watch the horizon, or stare in the general direction of Renchanting. But he couldn't see, so he was quickly getting bored out of his mind.
"Are you done?" he asked after barely a minute of silence.
The door opened slightly. Grian jumped a little, feathers puffed, and turned around, but before he could say anything a warm cloth was put on him. Scar gently smoothed it out on his shoulders. By the shape and weight of the cloth alone Grian recognized it as his poncho.
"Oh. Well, thanks."
"My pleasure."
Scar closed the door again. Grian sighed and accepted his fate.
Somewhere far away the forest whispered with its leaves. The lava river at the border of their desert poped gently every few seconds - if the wind was just a little louder, Grian wouldn't even hear that. Pizza's breathing was heard from the spot near the castle wall Scar had made into the llama's bed. Pizza could've easily be staring at him at that moment and Grian wouldn't have known. The thought was entertaining enough for Grian to not make any effort to take his blindfold off.
It was almost nice to sit there like that, listening the world going timid and kind. The warmth of his poncho was slowly lulling him to sleep.
Scar's voice startled him.
"I'm done," he announced.
Grian heard the door open and jumped on his feet. He sniffed the air. It smelled slightly of fire.
"Did you set our castle on fire?" he asked, suspicious.
"Well, in some sense, yes, I did," Scar said and immediately grabbed Grian's forearm, not giving him time to freak out. "Come on in, you're letting the wind in."
When the door closed behind him, Grian, to his surprise, realized that the air inside was way warmer than before. Scar absolutely did set their home on fire.
"Can I take the scarf off?" he asked tiredly.
"Not yet! Follow me."
And Grian followed. He didn't have any choice since he was still blindfolded and lead by the hand by Scar. Scar tossed him around with a quite "mhm". Then he changed his mind and moved Grian to a different spot. The whole thing was becoming even more annoying than it already was and Grian was about to speak up about it when Scar finally stopped his manipulations and began untying the scarf. Grian didn't lose his chance to grumble a bit.
"If you really did start a fire in our castle, I will kill you."
"You sure will," Scar said with odd certainty.
Grian figured he was being sarcastic. It was hard to remember that Scar's smirks and smiles weren't always friendly; that his lighthearted attitude, although sincere most of the time, sometimes was just Scar's way of hiding his true emotions.
"I will," he insisted.
"I know."
Grian wanted to say something else, but at the same exact moment he opened his mouth, his blindfold was removed.
Their bedroom was full of light. There were at least two dozens of torches, and even though Scar managed to not set the castle on fire, it was a very close call. There also was a bunch of leaves and dry grass on the floor. Grian had no idea why Scar would put all this rubbish on the floor.
"What is that?" Grian found himself asking. He didn't want to come across as rude (Scar had obviously put a lot of effort into this) so he added hurriedly, "May I ask."
"Happy New Year, Grian."
When Grian turned around Scar was standing behind him, smiling and holding... a cake.
Grian blinked. The cake refused do disappear from Scar's arms. He blinked again.
"Is it New Year already?.." Grian whispered almost to himself.
"I have no idea!"
Scar's stupid smile was so familiar that it pulled Grian out of his confusion.
"But we don't have wheat."
"I have my sources."
"And cows."
"You don't want to know."
"What? You know what, you're right, I don't. Where did you get the sugarcane?"
Scar just smiled mysteriously. Grian rubbed his face with an impressed groan.
"Scar, this is..." he paused and looked around with big eyes, and immediately regretted it when his gaze fell upon the green mess of leaves and grass on the floor. He was fast to look back at Scar instead. "I don't know why are you doing this, but i haven't eaten a cake in years."
"I told you, it's the New Year. Miracles happen. Wishes get fulfilled."
"Yeah, sure."
They sat on the floor. Scar used this sword to cut the cake into pieces. A bit unsanitary, but who cares. Grian was granted with the honor of tasting the cake first. He bit into his piece and couldn't contain a satisfied hum.
"Scar, it's sweet."
"As all cakes are."
"I know, but... You know what I mean. The last time I ate sugar was... forever ago."
"Yeah."
Grian sneaked a peak at Scar and furrowed his brow.
"Why aren't you eating?"
"Oh, it's simple," Scar said. "The cake is poisoned."
Grian almost choked. Scar was laughing now, and continued to do so even when Grian glared at him.
"Scar! You can't joke like this while we're in the middle of a death game," Grian grumbled.
"Aw Grian, you think I could do this to you? Do you not trust me?"
Grian wrinkled his nose and bit into the remains of his piece, while looking Scar into the eyes. Scar blinked and smiled, accepting Grian's show of trust wordlessly.
When Grian was finished with his piece, he took Scar's sword from his lap (inevitably making its hilt sticky with sugar because he didn't bother to wipe his hand off) and cut a piece of cake for Scar. Maybe this will encourage Scar to eat it. When Grian handed it so Scar, he looked surprised but took it and finally took a bite. His eyes widened. Grian grinned.
"Sugar, right?"
"Sugar," Scar agreed and took another bite with his eyes closed.
Delight was written all over his face in big bold letters. Grian's grin softened into a smile. Now he understood why Scar was staring at him earlier. Seeing his ally and friend satisfied and happy felt like he was satisfied and happy himself. He could watch Scar eat this cake the whole day. It was a weirdly soothing scene.
"I feel like I'm high on sugar." Scar confessed.
"Me too. Second round?"
"Sure!"
They had a second round. This time, they didn't waste time on looking at each other and went straight to devouring their portions. Then they lay down on the floor, right on top of the pile of dry leaves. It felt uncomfortable but Grian didn't find it in himself to argue. His stomach was full, their room was warm, and his friend was by his side, sighing with unusual calmness. And they were still alive.
"Happy New Year," Grian said to the ceiling.
"Mhm."
"Now I feel like a bad friend," he chuckled. "I don't have a present for you."
"Not an issue. Just find something later and tell me it's the New Year when you're ready to gift it to me."
"Yeah, because that's exactly how the New Year works."
"Oh, absolutely."
"Your present was great, by the way," Grian said somewhat awkwardly. "The cake, I mean."
"Are implying that some other part of my present wasn't good?" Scar asked, turning to face Grian.
Grian looked at him. Scar was squinting at him, offended in advance.
"Actually, yes. What in the void's name are we lying on?"
"It's spruce needles!"
"It's very much not. It's dry oak leaves."
"Well excuse me, I had nothing to work with! If I went on an adventure to collect some real spruce needles you'd start suspecting something. I had to improvise!"
"Okay, okay," Grian laughed. "I appreciate the effort."
Scar smiled too, completely letting go of his exaggerated offense.
"I'm glad."
It felt nice - to lay there with Scar, satisfied and warm.