Chapter Text
Kris shuffled forward, balancing their body well. They were improving. They didn't even trip and roll down the hill leading to their house this time. As painful as that was, it did get them to the bottom faster. They had to speed up.
The trek through the main street of Hometown always took far longer than they would have liked. If only they could run, or even walk. They've been here hundreds of times before, and there was never anything worth dwelling on. Kris had no clue what that thing saw in the place, or it's residents.
Compared to the first times they did this, Kris was making no effort to hide themself. They swiftly discovered there was no need. Even if the curfew wasn't in place, there was a local myth about dangerous creatures roaming the town at night. When Kris first heard this, it was in school, as a child. As such, they dismissed it as a simple ploy by parents to keep their kids inside. One which Kris' own parents regularly cited, much to their frustration.
Only once they began leaving the house at night did they see for themself that the children weren't alone in their superstition. The streets were abandoned, and all the windows were tightly covered by the blinds. As they began feeling the knife grow heavier in their pocket, Kris drew a sharp, biting smile. Perhaps there was something to that story, after all.
After dragging their body by the silent church near the bottom of the town, Kris entered the clearing. Without the moonlight to guide them, it felt to Kris like a winding, overgrown jungle. Despite being informed how deserted the whole town was during their first proper meeting, Kris' partner still insisted on meeting down here, for absolute privacy. Kris couldn't blame her, considering the circumstances.
The human distracted themself from their deepening breath by picturing their school "friends", who had mocked them earlier in the day about "fearing" the Shelter. Among many others. How often Kris wished they could afford themself some catharsis. Afford to drop the façade, open it up wide for them, and see just how brave they were in comparison.
At last, they made it. Hopefully with some time to spare. Circling the entrance, Kris tried and failed to regain some form of composure, but their legs refused to straighten out, their breathing refused to quieten. Their typical expression felt pained and shaky to maintain. Above all else, Kris didn't want her to worry over nothing, as was frequently the case.
At the doors to the Shelter, stood the Knight.