A Deadly Bite

14 || Runaway

It's dark already. Restless flames prowl up Fiesi's arms as he stares up at the sky, a patchwork of twilight blues and purples stitched together by mist-covered stars. Its darkness drips into the shadows, blackened pools swallowing the forest's colour, leaving the pulsing azure glow creeping outwards from his skin to paint the skeletal branches in fresh light.

He sighs, dropping his head to watch his flexing fingers toy with the fire's strands. Winter nights have a habit of pouncing too soon and catching him off guard. Somehow, this one feels all the more predatory.

Sat back on his heels, he returns his focus to the cooking fire nestled amongst the grass before him, twisting a spit in one hand. It impales the pale, brown-tinged shape of a rabbit. As painful as skinning the creature was, he's grateful for the escape it provided. Hunting has a process, careful and methodical, thoughtless. It helps when this jerky kind of panic creeps in, the anxious tug that knots his stomach and sends itchy shivers jittering through his veins.

Even so, escapes only last so long.

He peers into the sky, into the shadows, chest tight. Nathan, please. Come back.

His cloak shifts with his movement, the knife buried in its inner pocket touching his side. He flinches, wrenching his gaze determinedly to the fire. Regret digs its claws into his bones. He shouldn't have kept hold of the weapon. The very thought of it freezes him.

"Fiesi, you made another promise. Remember?"

The words echo in his ears, loud enough to have been spoken by the trees themselves. "I won't do it," he snaps back, then curses himself, a thread of humour twitching into a smile. "See? You need to get back here, Nathan. I'm already going crazy."

The rabbit's underside is glazed in golden brown. Not cooked quite enough, but the flames are straining against his control, flaring harshly enough to sear under his skin. With a wave of his hand, he extinguishes them, their muted crackle fading away to add to the eerie silence. The rabbit barely tastes of anything as he bites into it.

His throat is dry as he swallows. His nails dig into the spit. "You better not be dead," he adds, the words so quiet they fade into the whispering wind. With a sharp breath, he clambers to his feet, though it doesn't make him feel any less small.

The airy tingle of the barrier is strangely numb when viewed from the inside. It's no less alluring, and yet it ensnares his limbs less like tugging ropes and more like chains, weighted and uncomfortable. He remembers standing somewhere very similar two years ago, a bag of rations slung over his shoulders, Rigel perched on his shoulder, the twilight bearing down on him in swathes of taunting darkness.

Why leave? the barrier whispers, just the same as the first time. You're safe here. You're protected. The world outside is nothing.

He isn't quite sure how he mustered the courage to overcome it then. Now, the chains are so heavy he can barely breathe.

"I don't even like this place," he mutters, slumping to the ground again.

Fiesi.

Any other thought breaks in two. His heart drops to his stomach, thudding so loud in his ears that he's not entirely sure whether he imagined that tiny voice that pecks at the back of his mind, gliding through his name with straightened precision. His flame surges outward at the sound of it, eagerly snapping at the air. Rigel?

Yes, comes Rigel's tight voice. Exasperation rides its tide, jittery and cracked through with distance but seeping through their bond nonetheless. Without meaning to, Fiesi feels himself tense. I have located the boy.