The Decade of the Moon

Takes place in the land of Ishness, a world created by TikTok creator @ishness. All characters are his creations.

CW: language, fear. Indirectly references child loss.

He smirks and taps the green phone icon, clearing his throat with a low growl.

"Unless you've managed to somehow put yourself in danger in the last seven minutes, Host, there's no possible reason to call me back to your place already."

"No, it's--"

"Finally decided to dump Karsh for me? I told you at the start, it can't happen. You're my work. I don't date my work. Or fuck it, for that matter."

He shuts his mouth when he hears the uncharacteristic string of swear words from the other end of the line. He immediately strips the flirty sarcasm from his voice.

"Host, what's wrong." It isn't a question so much as a demand.

"It's Munk. We... we forgot."

He sighs and relaxes his muscles. "Thanks to the dog, I can never forget the lunar cycle." He rolls his eyes and is immediately grateful for the fact that she can't see him over the phone, or retaliate for the werewolf slur he's just used. "I dropped off his supplies earlier this week. He should be all set to camp out in the tunnels for a few days until the moon wanes."

"Did he... say anything?"

DZ's upper lip curls at the sound of Host's familiar voice, transformed into a tinny robotic drone. Over the years, he's learned to read her almost as well as he can read Zyggy, but so much is lost when he can't look at her. The fact that he can barely sense her fear through the static unsettles him on a level that almost nothing else does: I can't help her if I can't read her. His protective instinct tugs at him, pulling him back towards her place. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, in his mind he replays his visit to Munk's.

"Well? Did he?"

After thinking for a moment, he opens his eyes and responds slowly. "No, actually. Not a single joke or nickname, now that I think of it. Out of character, but I can't say it was unpleasant. Why? What am I missing?"

"DZ... it's been ten years. This month is the anniversary." 

Oh fuck, he thinks. Fuck, it is.

Her voice gains a high-pitched note of panic at his silence. "So he didn't say anything? Did he seem OK? What do you think he'll do if--"

DZ interrupts her gently. "I'll head over there now. He'll be OK," he murmurs before hanging up and slipping the phone into his back pocket. With a level of urgency he didn't have before, he lopes down the street towards the forest, cracking his knuckles and rolling his shoulders to loosen up. He'd have to be quick.

---

Finally crossing into the woods, DZ swallows his guilt for not remembering the anniversary and tries to focus on the task at hand. He glances up and notes the visibility of the full moon through the branches. The pup usually manages to keep his head, but would the anniversary make that more difficult? DZ doesn't know. He wishes he'd asked Host how he could talk Munk down from the edge. That's the part he's worried about--not about a physical confrontation, which he's sure won't be a challenge--but about talking to Munk. The two of them have never exactly been close. (Frenemy? Zyggy whispers. DZ pukes a little in his mouth.)

DZ knows what happened to the kid. Everyone does, even if Munk tries to keep it quiet. They know why he avoids a certain part of the forest. They know that if he isn't in the tunnels or the forest, to check the skatepark or the cemetery. DZ in particular can sense that the wolf's flirtatious front is just that... a front. He may flirt and fuck, but the core of his heart--the first part of him that learned to want, to love--isn't really in it. That part of him belongs to Brooke.