OH, TO BE HERE ON THE GROUND
He was surely damned for going back to these mountains. Every time he made this trek, pissed off or physically incapacitated, things went weird and sad and strange in ways he liked to pretend did not effect him, did not occur in his life. But, alas. He was here again. And it felt different this time. Something was calling - pulling - guiding him to this place, these mountains, snow-capped and torn by whipping winds that made the late autumn chill below seem like a summer breeze. It was, for all intents and purposes, inhospitable (and certainly unwise).
And yet.
The trees had begun to thin as he ascended; nearing the treeline was a sign that he had come too far, certainly, but all he felt was farther, higher and so he continued on. El Toro had never been bred for the cold, and for all his time in Solterra he was certainly not accustomed to it.
Farther, higher.
Of course he desired companionship. Who’s asking? Friends are important. He didn’t need them, no. No real warrior needs friends. But they’re nice to have, you know. If they’re steadfast. Reliable. Loyal. Transparent…
What was so great about them anyway? Someone to talk to? Someone to tell your feelings too? When was the last time he’d needed to do that? Anzhelo went in and pressured him; they’d only just met and he’d gone and accused Toro of wanting to end his own life. Really! Why would you tell anyone your feelings when they’d just go and make assumptions before you even opened your mouth?
But it might be nice if somebody around here understood.
Well, maybe not here, but, you know-
Something mewled. Mewled? Mewled, yeah. A cat. That’s a cat noise, right. All the way up here, at the edge of the tree line, sure, that’s right, a c-
”Hello? Is anyone there?”
Here.
El Toro stretched his head high to, ears swiveling, but he kept moving, because he did not need his senses to tell him where to find what he was looking for. ”Hello?” he called, and he felt it, that tug, that guiding sensation, so strong now but-
Hey!
Toro jumped back, startled. He looked around, then - down at his hooves.
A cat. Cat thing, kind of big and round looking-
I’m a lion.
Toro blinked. ”Right. Lions live up here? Are you sure?”
Very.
”Well, okay, then. It’s kind of cold.” He saw then that the snow around the cub was melted, steaming, even, about his paws. ”Did you do that?”
But the little cub ignored him, standing and stretching in the puddle he’d made at his feet. There was more snow below, of course, and it’d soon freeze again, along with his soaking belly and legs.
”Hajduk, you’re all wet. Come on. Whaddya gonna do on the way back?”
Back?
”I have to take you back home, you know.”
Deep in his heart he felt some understanding, and he knew then that the little cub had thought himself abandoned. Lost. Alone.
And Toro said, ”Never,” and it was only then when he saw his eyes in Hajduk’s did he realize he had never questioned the little life before him.
Their bond was so fresh and so tender, but it carried the weight of true friendship. Of brotherhood. And as little Hajduk shook himself off and all the little thoughts about snow and cold and warm and horns and trees and home knocked into Toro’s brain faster than he could listen, he knew he had gotten exactly what he needed, and so had Hajduk.
@Random Events
"What I say,"
What I think,
What Hajduk thinks,
