Shadewylf

6 - Midnight

It was strange, after such a burst of emotion, to suddenly feel so numb. The fire inside had cooled to solemn grey ashes. In many ways, it fitted much better with the colour of his fur.

With a heavy sigh, Thirty-Four climbed the final few steps to the summit of the familiar hill. Night had fully closed in now, and the moon shone high above, greeting him with sparks of silvery light. Slowly, he shook his head. Outward beauty didn't change the dullness in his heart.

His paw beat at a patch of thistles. Congratulations. You just secured your position as the world's most hated son. Why in Sylvera did he have to go and lose his temper like that? Only bad things came from speaking out. He should know that. Calder had warned him a million times.

Even if those things were true.

Claws extended, he dug them into the earth, trying to expell all his hollow frustrations on the vegetation. A thorn dug into his left paw, and he yelped, retracting it hurriedly. The fur parted to reveal a rapidly-forming dark red splodge. Growling, he flopped down in the grass. Great. Now even the plants were better than him.

The gentle wind ruffled his ears, and he sighed again. Constantly, he would tell his parents that a Pelt was coming, and he'd be better when it came. But what if it never came? Would be be a worthless Peltless failure forever? As each day went by, it did seem more likely.

No, you're being overly pessimistic. Thirty-Four shook himself, twisting to stare into the forest. Maybe all he needed was a backup plan. The hill and forest had always felt more homely than his real home ever had. Staying here forever was a possibility. If he could learn to hunt before he starved to death.

"Thirty-Four?"

Startled, he jolted to his paws, ears snapping upright. What was she doing here?

"Please tell me you're not here, Thirty-Four. Let me be wrong," her voice added, quieter, but nearer. "Please..." The sound trailed away as she turned a corner, and he met her eyes. Her frustrated sigh dipped his snout.

"You caught me, Lex," he admitted, tail hanging low. "I screwed up."

She was beside him in seconds, her golden fur flashing briefly in the moonlight. "What happened?" she whispered.

With a shrug, he stepped backwards. "The usual. Argument. Yelling. Miserable weakling, all that." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "Except this time I yelled back."

Crouching down, Lexi touched her snout briefly to his. An electric current zapped across his spine. Maybe her worries were emerging as minature lightning. "Look, I know you expect me to lecture you on the importance of keeping your temper, but I'm not. How they affect you isn't your fault. Yes, maybe you shouldn't have lost it like that, but it doesn't mean you're to blame." She patted the earth. "Now, sit."

With a nod, he sat down gently, leaning into her warm fur. He found himself longing for another static shock. "Thanks," he murmured into her flank. "You're the best friend I could ever ask for."

"No, I'm really not," she replied with a laugh. "But I do try." Her claws curled under his chin, forcing his head upwards. "If we're going to sneak out at night, we should at least look at the stars."

He did as she commanded, observing all the many glimmering specks. Lifting a claw, he traced a curved line of five stars. "Isn't that Clerassi, the snake?"

Lexi nodded, following his gaze. She traced her own claw upwards to another star-marked shape. "And that's Nethropiade, the stag. My favourite," she added, as they glanced at each other in wonder. Nothing was better a bright night, when the sparkling constellations were at their clearest.