Chapter Text
Larizu lie on his side of the bed, facing the wall. He wore his hoodie. Between his toes, nestled the original blue pipe. One roomy pocket held the original blue comb. The other pocket contained a backup blue comb, just in case. He hugged I’wilo’s big pillow to his face, as he lay on his normal pillow. He chewed on the end of one hoodie-hood lace; it was like a fingernail on a string.
The door was correctly locked. The shutters were shut and latched. The nightstand bucket/throwin-rock-collecting bucket was back in nightstand mode, although no glasses rested there, because they were dead forever.
Luanne was out stomping… coconuts. I’wilo was dead, but Brekk was there for the next couple of days until I’wilo came back.
Brekk keyed down the lamp until it was quite dim. His hooves scuffed and the floorboards creaked. He sat in the big chair, which was as good a place as any— better, even— for Brekk to sit. “Night, Larry-Sue.”
“Night Brekk,” Larizu said, his voice muffled by the big pillow.
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.
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.
Larizu mouthed, Me too.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Epilogue ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On the desert southeast edge of the southeastern central Barrens, just north of the southern Barrens, there’s an isolated little forest. It’s too secluded to attract many visitors. It’s rife with territorial boar, and a regular haunt for roving packs of plains wolves, not to mention the occasional big cat. There’s a spring-fed pond, deep and cold, and a stingy little partially underground creak that runs through part of the wood. On a stone ledge near the pond’s edge, next to a pack and a few canteens, upon a grass mat, lies I’wilo. He wears a loincloth, with no jewelry. He’s doing a minimalist thing. A recharge thing. A gratitude thing. It’s an I’wilo thing.
I’wilo lies propped up on his side, with swiveling ears, listening to the night sounds without becoming attached to any one sound for too long. His dark eyes scan the night sky for nothing in particular, and he sees a meteor which is nice.
After a time, I’wilo rolls onto his back to sleep, just as he does every night. He stretches and sighs and falls still. And he says, “Lahv you, Ri.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Ware The Beast ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
-Wil