RUNNING QUICKLY became all Orin thought he'd over know. The sounds of feet hitting the ground at the first sign of a shadow around a corner, stealing food and finding shelter to survive the nights. It was normal, familiar. Sometimes if he tried to pretend like he wasn't on a hit list, he could feel normal as well. Orin hadbeen sure that he'd never experience safety again. Until, that is, he started running back to the same place over and over. Not because he was certain the goons wouldn't follow him, but because he felt guarded by the consistency. Orin, hiding behind a formation of rocks, and Etha curiously crawling across the gravel towards a boy his age who didn't seem to fear her.
IT WAS strange how easily it went from Orin hiding away in fear to sitting on the same level as a young Viktor, though he never sat too close and Etha was always between them. Viktor didn't question any of it. He was kind that way. He never asked why Orin's visits were so few and far between. Or why his clothes were too big for his small frame; why he carried a dagger strapped to his waist; why both boy and tiger looked as though neither had properly bathed in weeks. Viktor didn't even bat an eye at Etha's limp nor did he do a double take at the empty sleeve of Orin's shirt. He was too kind for this world, Orin thought of him. (But he didn't mind. If Viktor was the one kindness in his world then he would take it).
BEFORE LONG Viktor began seeing less and less of his silent friend, a boy who showed up too few times and came and went without so much as an explanation. He didn't need one, but, still, when his final visit came without Viktor knowing that that's what it was, it had felt necessary. He had wanted one. Something to hold onto that would give him piece of mind. But the only information he'd been given was that of two names: Orin, the boy himself, and Etha, the majestic tiger. But even that had been hard to come by, only learning it before the boy disappeared for good. His first words to Viktor since they met.
HE'D MADE a promise to Orin before he left. He swore that once he had the technology he would build both him and Etha mechanical limbs. Orin had glanced down at his shoulder before flicking his gaze to where Viktor sat before him, stare unwavering. Then he whistled, Etha lifted herself from where her head rested on Viktor's good knee, and they left. And Viktor thought that was the end of it.
EXCEPT, YEARS later, Viktor saw Etha again. The tiger sought him out in Piltover, a worn satchel's strap pinched between her teeth, stalking the streets until she could get him alone. She hadn't forgotten him as the years went by, nuzzling his hand in the same manner she had as a cub and circling his legs protectively. When she finally dropped the bag at his feet, out spilled countless papers. Each were scrawled on in ink that stopped after three or four lines, sometimes not even getting beyond the first few words. Every single letter was addressed to Viktor. They ranged from messy, illegible writing on yellowing paper to a neat, calculated scrawl on white parchment carefully folded into halves. But they were all the same.
VIKTOR FELT like he finally understood. Orin hadn't left. He'd always been there, from a distance at which Viktor could not have known. And Etha had taken it upon herself to show him for herself.
NOW, VIKTOR was left to wonder what had kept his friend away, and whether or not he would come looking for his missing letters.
ORIN is As Described
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