summer made a mockery of the dead. arthur knew that intimately. the warmth of sunlight washed them true and bright beneath gold rays and amongst a hundred vine-covered fences. each trellis was dabbled in bright greens and dark, aging fruit. not quite ready for harvest—awakening, blooming beneath false flowers and biding for time. soon, each said. soon we will live and live and live and then—we will die again.
even out of place, the stranger across seemed to fit in well. bulk and breath. heat and eagerness. arthur, by contrast, was a pale thing in dark clothes, standing terribly still by the eastern wall. the sun was a bright halo behind him, rising close to noon. the light made his twine hair shiny and his downward-tilted face shadowed. he was still. unbearably still. like a scarecrow baking in the summer heat, waiting for a bird to offer company.
the slayer's fingers flex beside him. once. twice. being a dead thing in a field of life made the skin prickle.
heart thumps. the wolf across has keen eyes and an even keener sense of smell. arthur can tell. he's fought many of them before, those shapeshifters, all fur and hunger. and even rarer, the man not yet changed. he wonders if the dog can smell the rot in him. he hopes, however hope may land in him, that he does not.
the curse aches. the black line across his chest simmers hot, hidden beneath leather and steel. offended, perhaps, by its vessel's eagerness to be avoided. but they can both feel the dog's hunger—a wanting, a need. eat, eat, eat. arthur's face does not change, but the pulse at his throat jumps once. he tilts his head when the other speaks. looking right at him, the dark of his eyes catch the sunlight. the edges of wood burn gold and then—arthur looks away. the ground to the left meets his gaze plainly.
“ is it kindness, ” the slayer asks. “ or is it endurance ?? ” his voice is clear but soft, gentle like a whisper from a shade. the wind picks at hair and clothes and leaves rustling faint around them. a pine-sweet breath releases from his lungs. “ the sun reveals many things. what lives and what dies. what stays and what leaves. ”
he looks back up when the man steps closer. arthur does not move. his eyes, however, catch that beige light again. this time, he does not look away.
“ kindness is what one decides to do with the revelation. endurance is simply what is there to see.”
