Cheek was just so fuckin’ pleased with himself, even as the m—as Lyanna walked off to lead us deeper into the herdlands. He was just this little waddling thing walking with his chin held high, proud of himself and everything and swelling with it. Everyone love me, I heard him say to himself, humming it a little bit, and when I rolled my eyes (shut up) he promptly told me to shut up because even though I was rude and smelly, that didn’t mean he had to be. (You still smell like ass, though.) (Bite me.)

I mean, it’s true, though. I don’t really know how to make friends—and I’m not sure if I really want to know how, either. Anyone I’ve really befriended just sort of happened and I can’t really tell you how—I mean, I still struggle with giving my name. Case in point: Lyanna started apologizing for not knowing more, or not being useful, and I sort of cocked my brow at her and gave her a funny look that wasn’t built for being reassuring. “S’fine?” I said, with an awkward lilt to my voice that didn’t really help with the expression on my face. Mostly I was confused—I mean, she’s helping me now, isn’t she? It ain’t like I expected her to be my Ma or whatever. She was doing her best and I was the intruder so…I dunno. Just kinda caught me off guard—

I WANT IT.

OW OKAY WHAT?!

Lyanna had just ducked her head down to pet Cheek again when he saw it; the tiniest little tank of a thing screaming at us, except it wasn’t really screaming so much as it was a brassy screech that seemed to trumpet from its long, long nose. I blinked, staring at this thing cuz what the fuck. I’ve never seen any kind of creature like that in my life; I wondered if it were some kind of hairless, wrinkly horse that got its nose stuck in a hole in the ground and the badger kept stretching it out. Chico didn’t waste time blinking, though, and staring, and wondering what the fuck. The delight in his breast spiraled and swelled out of all control until—

I WANT, he screamed, and suddenly he was a furry bullet dashing through the grasses, charging straight for the--thing. And feeling a rising frustration that made me grin a little—because, as we had found out sometime ago, Chico can’t change anymore. Well, he can change, but not into anything he wanted like he could when he was a baby. And now he was furious cuz if he’d known that a creature like that existed--oh man oh man he would’ve bashed my kneecaps in so hard, you don’t even know man, awgh god it would’ve been SO awesome. But no. He was stuck as this furry thing and even though his was super fucking irritated about it, it didn’t completely outshine his excitement—so he ran for it.

I mean…I don’t know what he was gonna do when he got there. I don’t think he thought that far ahead. At that moment, he just needed to get there.

“He’s harmless!” I shouted a little into the mist, where I saw a huge (huge) shadow approach—and I put two and two together and realized this cute-ugly, wrinkly creature was probably someone’s companion, “He’s just—uh—excited I guess, but he ain’t gonna bite, I pro….”

The shadow got more distinct (and more huge, holy shit) and I realized, when I saw those stripes across his back, that I had actually seen this guy before. There was no mistaking him; massive, holy shit so massive he was almost on par with Mr.Archiballs, like that kind of massive. And besides, I had only met him once, but I will never forget that particular circumstance. It crushed my heart to see this guy, just by association.

“You,” I whispered as he came into view, squinting my eyes up into a face that was just as kind as it was big. Tembovu, is his name. “So you did become King.” I was murmuring more to myself, because the memories were rushing back—

(stop)

--and they almost flooded me, almost overwhelmed me, but I was able to blink them away (for the time being) and at least let them give me some context. I was there when he became King, even if I hadn’t realized it at the time.

*“Are you looking for Mauja?”*

It happened so fast I scared myself, honestly.

I pinned my ears, hard; I snorted, my tail lashing; Chico glanced back at me, at the spike that had been thrust so suddenly into my breast that it caused my teeth to bear. “No, I’m not looking for fucking Mow-ya,” I said way too hard, way too hostile, that name on my tongue too strange to say right, “I don’t know a Mow-ya.” I know Lee, and goddammit I really really wanna see him. But that was the pain of it, right? Was I ever gonna see “Lee” again? What did that even mean, for me to call him that? Lee wasn’t his real name—obviously—and to have the real thing thrown in my face like that, so fucking casual, like it was common knowledge—

--like all his friends would know his name like that—

(Ros.)

(It’s just that—)

(Ros.)

(Oh come on! You can’t say I’m wrong for—)

(Not now.)

(Not…)

Not now.

I realized how stormy my face had gotten in those few seconds—how tense my body got, and oh shit I had snapped at a herd lead and it was rushing back and back and I could see how fucked up I had acted. So I—I took a few breaths, then a deeper one, and my head lowered a little bit (but I didn’t break my eyes away from him. Nah, I wasn’t that much of a coward). “That was rude,” I said low and plain, “I’m sorry.” I sighed again and rolled my shoulders and I straightened my tongue out and tried again (people are hard, ugh).

“I’m…I’m actually looking for Ophelia,” I said, pressing on and leaving the other thing behind because, like Chico told me, now was not the time. “The last I heard of her she was living in this herd…Is she—uh--around?” I tried not to ask the follow-up: Would she even wanna look at me?


"talk" 
"Chico"