Black Strings: Threads of Revenge

The World of Spirits

That does it. Toby tightens his grip on the rest of his pebbles, a competitive fire replacing his sleepiness. Without warning, he flings two at once.

Tommy dodges the first with ease, but the second—unexpected and slightly offbeat—clips his shoulder.

Toby gasps theatrically. “I hit you!”

Tommy glances at his shoulder, then back at Toby, unimpressed. “Barely.”

“A hit is a hit,” Toby counters, grinning.

Tommy sighs, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to take this seriously, then.”

Before Toby can react, Tommy flicks another pebble—this time, aiming for Toby’s forehead with pinpoint accuracy.

Thunk.

Toby reels back, clutching his head. “Oww! That one actually hurt!”

Tommy’s grin widens. “That one was for the terrible aim earlier.”

Toby glares at him but is already fighting back a smile. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep challenging me,” Tommy says smugly, leaning back on his hands.

Toby lets out a dramatic sigh and flops onto his back again. “Fine. I admit defeat. For now.”

Tommy chuckles, flicking one last pebble idly into the fire. “Smart choice.”

A comfortable silence settles between them, broken only by the crackling flames and the occasional chirp of distant insects. The morning, once quiet and lazy, now carries a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.

Rain, minutes later, wakes up, his tail flicking against the ground behind him. His lavender eyes glaze over the pair sleepily, taking in the scattered pebbles and Toby sprawled out in defeat. He lets out a low hum that vibrates in his chest as he pats Bumbledor gently, the small creature curling against his touch.

Tommy notices Rain stirring and smirks. “Morning, Rain. You missed the great pebble war.”

Rain blinks slowly, his ears twitching. “Mm. Who won?”

Toby groans from his spot on the ground. “Not me, that’s for sure.”

Rain exhales through his nose, a ghost of a chuckle. “Figured.” He stretches, his back arching like a cat’s before he settles again. His tail flicks once more before stilling, his gaze briefly moving to Tommy. “You seem awake for this early.”

Tommy shrugs. “Got some rest.”

Rain accepts the answer with an absent nod, shifting to get comfortable again. He plucks a stray pebble from the ground and idly rolls it between his fingers. “So, what happens now? Another round, or have you two burned out your competitive streak?”

Toby groans louder, dragging a hand over his face. “No more pebbles. Please.”

Tommy chuckles. “Fine, fine. We’ll give your bruised pride a break.”

Rain flicks his ears again, then leans back against Bumbledor, looking perfectly content. “Good. I’d rather enjoy a peaceful morning.”

Tommy huffs a quiet laugh. “Peaceful, huh? Guess I should warn you—we don’t do ‘peaceful’ for long.”

Rain cracks one eye open, his tail giving a slow flick. “Noted.”

The fire crackles, sending up gentle wisps of smoke as the warmth of the morning settles over them. For now, the world is quiet, filled only with the remnants of laughter and the easy comfort of friendship.