Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Like every other day, morning sunlight streams through the branches of ivy that drape down the window like a natural curtain and beams straight onto Ren’s face. Waking has never been easy for him, having never been a morning person, but he’ll have to get up eventually. The day awaits him, and here, in his own little corner of the world, Ren bathes in the gentle warmth of the sun illuminating his face.

His bed is comfortable—too comfortable given the way it’s so hard to part with each morning—and covered in thick and soft quilts that cushion the wooden frame into something delicate and lulling. But, using all his will power and strength, Ren sits up to leave his heaven, already looking forward to diving back into its cloud-like softness once he goes to bed.

A simple life has never suited Ren—not after he’d been dreaming of adventure his whole life and given the tumultuous nature of his teenage and adult years—yet it’s exactly that which he finds himself in.

Every day, the routine is the same: splash some cool water in his face from the wash basin, glance into his clouded mirror that’s nearly overtaken by moss at this point and remark about his hair is too long and he really ought to trim it, and head into the small kitchen to make himself a breakfast of foraged berries mashed with oats. It’s far from the delicious and hearty food he lived off of in the city, but it’s good enough for him.

From there, he dresses, admiring his options hanging on the branches that make up his dresser, placed there by the enchantments that imbue this whole little cottage with the faint hum of magic. He picks out one of his favorite outfits: a collared deep red blouse with puffy sleeves, an under bust corset that is much harder to cinch up now that he’s alone, a long layered skirt that slit at the side for easy access to the dagger hilt strapped to his thigh, and high boots made of loved and worn leather. There really isn’t a need to dress up when most likely no one but the weeds plaguing his garden will see him, but…

It’s a remnant from his life before, a normalcy that would just be unkind to himself to arbitrarily give up. Day after day passes but if he takes the time to choose an outfit, to undress before going to bed, to take his clothes to the wash basin and enchant the water to clean them, things feel just a little more normal. A little less like he had lost everything, even though in his heart he cannot deny the truth.

The fresh spring air and sweet chirping of birds greets Ren as he swings open his front door, his hand woven basket already propped up against his hip. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the scents of the glade that has become his home: the dirt and soil, the trees bordering the forest proper, the grass and weeds. This is his home now, no matter how far he originally came from.

Running a hand along the stone side of the cottage, Ren steps into the sunlight, letting its radiance warm him from the outside in. Every time, it reminds him of the first step he took into the glade, all those years ago.

He had been running for so long he nearly forgot what he was running from, although the angry shouts and threats of the palace guards could never truly leave his memory. They were hot on his heels when he entered the Deep – the deepest and darkest part of the forest, where it is thickest and borders the different kingdoms and states stretching across the continent. There are trails carving through the Deep for travelers, of course, but to venture off of the path, let alone randomly running into it like Ren did, was nothing less than a death sentence.

And he was given no choice but to venture forth, to scrape up every inch of his arms and legs from how many times he tripped over the thick vines and brush that blanketed the forest floor, to fear every noise and snap of branches as he passed. To be completely enveloped by darkness except for the simple flame he conjured from his palm, its radius of light barely expanding beyond him and nothing compared to the nearly unparalleled darkness surrounding him. The trees in the Deep stretch so high that their upper branches disappear into the sky, even higher than the clouds, their thick foliage nearly completely blocking out the sun.

Ren wasn’t sure how long he had been on his own, barely surviving with how starved and dehydrated he was, how many unseeable creatures nipped at his heels as he ran past, a few even giving chase until he had to dip into his precious and quickly diminishing energy to blast them with ice or fire. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, probably running in circles in such an ancient and unknowable place, when he was found.

Not by another person, but by a little house cat, his bright blue eyes peering at him from the lowest branch of a tree. At first, Ren was startled that a simple domestic cat could survive out there, until the cat spoke. Not the most unusual thing, given Ren was experienced with magic and animals given the ability to speak human tongues, but it certainly felt like nothing less than a fever dream or dehydration induced hallucination.

The cat—Morgana, he called himself—offered his help in guiding Ren to safety. He explained he was a spirit meant to guide regular creatures of the forest who wandered into the Deep, and that although he rarely came across humans, he’d be happy to offer his aid.

Cautionary tales of mischievous and trickster spirits and fae that had been drilled into his head since he was a child sprang to the front of Ren’s mind. How many had he scoffed at over the years for how easily they fell for a fae’s empty promise? He had no reason to trust this creature and yet… he’d die either way, so might as well see what this Morgana had in store for him.

Surprisingly, Morgana did precisely what he promised. He led Ren through the Deep with remarkable ease, guiding him through brush and paths between the trees Ren never would have thought to go. Instead of asking for his soul or any other typical fae trick, Morgana simply asked for Ren’s story in return for helping him.

“This is my purpose,” he had said. “I was made to guide animals and humans count too, I guess.” He looked up at him with those bright blue eyes that shone with more kindness than Ren thought possible in a place as apathetically cruel as the Deep. “But I can’t help but be curious what a human’s doing here. And especially how you’re still alive.”

So, Ren told him. Everything from his childhood in the countryside to the disastrous incident that led to running into the place that was widely considered more dangerous than walking into the open ocean. Morgana turned out to be a great listener, occasionally chiming in with clarifying questions and the like. But in the end, he didn’t cast judgment on Ren or chastise him for his choices. Instead, he simply rubbed his little head against Ren’s very busted up leg, just like the strays in the city did when he would go out to feed them. Morgana’s loud purr lit up the Deep and subsequently Ren’s own heart with affection. It was that moment that he broke: realizing just how truly alone he was and the pain he had been harboring from the incident.

Time stretched oddly through the Deep, it could’ve been hours or days or weeks when they finally made it out the other side into the gradual taper from the Deep into the regular forest.

It was sunny the day Morgana led Ren to the glade. Glorious, beautiful sunlight bore down onto Ren, warming him down to his core. To think he’d never feel it again. To think he’d never feel anything again, not the sunlight, or Morgana’s kindness, or the damp soil that he sank his fingers into as he collapsed onto the ground. The glade welcomed him then, with its sunlight and safety.

A kindness that Ren never stops trying to repay. He hopes he’s doing a good job, as he sets down his basket and starts digging up the carrots and potatoes he grows to the side of the cottage. The glade provides him with everything he needs: shelter in the form of the cottage that sat abandoned when he happened upon it, water from the creek that winds through its center, food in the land he’s cultivated into a garden. Being surrounded by beautiful nature imbues him with power from the presence of such intensely organic life. The glade gives him everything he needs.

He’s safe here, which is something he could never say about his previous life in the city. Having to hide his magic and bind until his chest was sore to avoid being recognized as a member of the coven. The fear he felt whenever someone glanced at him for just a hair too long while he stuffed his basket full of potion ingredients at the market.

None of that is a worry here; the glade receives visitors in the form of woodland creatures, but predators rarely come by, the open space and lack of hiding spots keeping them away. Even the occasional bear family or mountain lion come by for a drink at the creek—Ren keeps his distance, simply awestruck in their presence and in return, they pay him no mind.

He hasn’t seen another person in years, his only company being the plants and animals in his immediate vicinity. The longing for a two-sided conversation that isn’t just him blabbering at an animal who can’t reply eats him up from the inside.

He’s safe, healthy, and better taken care of than he’s ever been before.

So how selfish is he for desiring more?

For the first time in the years that Ren has lived here, the glade is loud.

Heavy sheets of rain pelt against the tightly shut windows, hail thuds and bounces off the stone roof, and thunder rumbles the earth with every bright streak of lightning that touches down.

It’s the worst storm Ren has seen in these woods, the kind of natural event that never ventures into the countryside or cities. Electricity hums in the air, mixing with the buzz of natural magic and leading Ren to feeling jittery. He paces back and forth in front of the fireplace—the only place in the cottage that escapes the bone deep chill of the pouring rain outside—knowing he can’t just sit idly when he feels so much outside. He already tried to ignore it, tried to just sit in his coziest rocking chair in front of the fire and continue his cross stitch of Morgana. But he just couldn’t, not when the claps of thunder send him jumping each time and slicing his fingertips open from the needle in his grasp, not when the deafening roar of the wind outside has him feeling like this whole cottage—his home—might just blow away any second now.

Instead, he paces.

Everything is overwhelming. There’s energy outside—energies not quite like anything he’s felt before. Of course, he’s heard the stories of spirits and entities who conjure under the chaos of storms, who ride the coattails of the whipping winds to sow even death and destruction. Not to mention how the night itself coaxes out things  from the shadows and into the cover of darkness. Things he isn’t even sure what they are. He simply knows he can feel them, and he should stay huddled inside his bubble of safety until dawn breaks.

Usually, he can simply sleep with no issues, easier when he has the purring warmth of Morgana curled beside him, but even when alone, the chaos of night outside isn’t a distraction. He’s learned to live with and around it these past few years.

Tonight, though… he keeps thinking he hears screams buried beneath the roar of the wind.

~~~

After restlessly pacing for hours, Ren finally succumbs to his exhaustion. He doubts he can sleep, but even just cozying up in front of the fireplace with his favorite blankets is preferable to giving into his simmering anxiety.

And it is better. Ren stares into the bright fire before him, trying to hone in his senses on just it: its warmth, its dazzling light, its rich scent, its soothing crackling ambiance. Exhaustion must really be pulling at him because it works to tune out everything else; it’s just Ren and the fire, his beacon of safety against the harrowing dark outside. His eyelids grow heavy, then heavier, and they’re dragging like a stone in a lake, down, down, down—

The sharpest and most anguished sound Ren’s ever heard jolts him out of his stupor, his heart suddenly pounding in his throat.

It’s over within a second. A scream—he’s positive it has to be a scream, from a person or an animal or something—so short but so packed with pain and terror.

Ren has seen, felt, witnessed death before, but this is the closest he’s ever heard it.

It’s over–the storm and its cacophony continue uninterrupted–but its ghost haunts Ren as it echoes in his ears over and over again.

He stays there, completely frozen and unbreathing, for an eternity.

Indecision grips him like a vice. Something—someone—is out there, hurt or dying or already dead.

He could help them, heal them after whatever unspeakable tragedy befell them. It’s what he’s best at, what Ren’s made for—

But he’s also no fool. Even without the storm, the night is dangerous to go out alone in. Many creatures thrive during the night and in the dark, but a mere human like him certainly isn’t one of them. At best, he’d be lured into a fae trap and at worst, hunted by a predatory beast.

He can’t go out. It’d be one of the stupidest things he’s ever done, and that’s saying a lot.

He can’t; he shouldn’t.

…

So of course, he’s up on his feet within a moment, wrapping his cloak around him and stepping into his boots.

With the urgency as if his own life is in danger, Ren grabs his tool belt, stuffed with potion and spell ingredients, and secures it around his waist before barreling out the front door and into the tumultuous night.

~~~

A night in late spring shouldn’t feel like ice crystals are forming in Ren’s veins as he runs like a man possessed across the dark glade. Nor should the wind feel like the massive tidal waves that crashed on the shores of his hometown, pushing and shoving at his back as if to dispel him from his place on earth. Voices—faint but nasty, hungry, biting—ride on the wind and whisper into Ren’s ear, every dark and lonely thought he’s ever had somehow externalized and said back to him.

That hardly matters though—as does the chill that creeps into his bones and the ache he already feels in his feet—as he reaches the edge of the glade and the gap he made in the thick bushes that border it to allow a path through. With a flick of his wrist, a small but powerful flame appears in his palm, bathing the forest around and Ren himself in a warming golden light. Despite the steadfast winds making Ren feel uneasy on his feet, the flame burns on, reaching higher and higher with every step he takes and every moment his desperation grows.

The scream came from this direction, he knows it, can feel it in his heart. But nothing so far looks amiss, although the wind practically leveling the forest around him makes it hard to tell. It sounded so close, nearly at his doorstep—surely there’d be something around.

The thought of a fae trap once again enters Ren’s mind. A lonely and pained cry in the night… and the fatal bleeding heart of the fool who ran after it.

That can’t be it, he thinks.

“Denial is a force as strong as nature,” a voice cackles in his ear.

It was real; someone needs me.

“Do they?”

His heart plummets into his stomach as the image of all the people in the city and the animals in the forest he failed to save flash before his mind.

You’re tricking me, he thinks, but it has its effects anyway.

Before the seeds of doubt and despair can fully set in—he sees it.

Just before a wall of rock reaches high into a cliff, there’s a disturbance in the mud—longer than Ren is tall and large, the nearby ivy and thorned vines smashed and flattened. As if a weight had been pressed upon them. As if something fell from a height…

Ren lifts his glowing palm towards the sky and urges it to burn brighter, to better illuminate the darkness surrounding him. He looks up and sees… ah. He stands at the bottom of a cliff, one that reaches high above him.

He turns, taking in the sight of impact. He reaches into the slit in his skirt and unsheathes his dagger and uses it to nudge the ivy and vines out of the way. The foliage to the side, a deep groove in the mud reveals itself, starting in the initial impact site and continuing off to the right.

Beside it on the ground are the smeared remnants of paw prints. Ren crouches with his hand close to the ground, letting the flame illuminate it and cast eerie shadows across the mud and against the nearby brush. Four digits, ovaline paw pads, dots to mark where sharp claws marred the mud. Ren spent enough time with the stray dogs in his hometown and in the alleyways of the city to recognize it as canine, too small and too few digits for a bear, not the right shape for a feline. He’s never seen a domesticated dog in the woods before, nor does he expect one could survive on its own out here.

The prints are large, nearly the same size as his own hand. And the size of the impact site…Ren fights back a shiver both from the cold but mainly at the realization of how large of a beast he’s risking himself to search for.

It doesn’t matter, though. Even without the storm, he doubts he’d be able to see the top of the cliff—it must be a far way down to fall. No matter how dangerous an animal or creature it is, it needs him.

It’s that sentiment Ren repeats over and over again in his head as he crouches low to the ground and follows the track away from the rock wall. The sludge of the mud muffles his footsteps, but makes it infinitely harder to keep his footing, especially now that he’s moving against the wind. Teeth gritted and his free hand clutching at his cloak in a fruitless attempt to keep away the cold freezing him numb, he treks across the forest floor, stopping every so often to cut away vines or brush he doesn’t risk crossing in such perilous conditions.

The track doesn’t lead him too far away, moving parallel to the rock wall and after a small decline in the forest floor that Ren narrowly avoids sliding down into the darkness and wiping out completely, he sees an outcropping of rock. The ground around it continues into a decline, so there should be space beneath it, and as Ren swings his hand to the right of the outcropping, he sees the tracks lead directly under it.

It’s even harder to crouch on a downward slope, especially with the wind pressing against his front, but Ren ignores the burn in his calves as he nears the makeshift cave. Brandishing his dagger, he slowly walks around to the mouth of the space, knowing the creature has likely already seen his light. The scars on his arms and back ache with the reminder of what happens when he sneaks up on cornered and injured animals.

Instead, he makes himself known, peering into the darkness of the space and reaching out in hopes his light catches something—

The first thing he sees is fur. A beautiful marble of reddish browns, greys and blacks. Or, it would be beautiful if not for the way it’s matted with both dry and fresh blood.

The second thing he sees is large, white teeth coming straight for his face.

“Agh—!” Ren leaps back, but slips on the slick mud, his leg twisting painfully as he grounds his heels into the ground to stop himself from tumbling down the slope.

The beast snaps its jaws around air again, this time closer, as if trying to ward Ren off. For a split second, he can see two trembling front legs marred with fresh wounds and a snout of bloodied fur and giant gleaming fangs.

It growls, low and angry, and the sound sets every part of Ren’s animal brain on high alert, screaming at him to run.

But he doesn’t, he stays with his feet ground into the mud, and watches as the beast snaps its jaws, this time letting out a deafening and deadly bark—a warning sign as clear as the brightly painted posts back on the city’s streets.

Before Ren can even think about if he still wishes to stand his ground, its trembling legs buckle, and the front half of the beast comes crashing forward into the mud.

It lands face first with a yelp that has Ren’s heart constricting in his chest. Mud splatters onto the ground and onto its face, mixing with the blood on his fur. As the light of his hand shines and illuminates the forest, Ren finally gets a proper look at the creature slumped in front of him.

A large muscular body rippling with auburn and brown fur, garnet eyes half lidded but burning with intensity, sharp claws that speak to the death and destruction this creature could cause.

A wolf. A large, beautiful grey wolf, although its actual fur leans towards brown.

It’s hurt, and badly from the number of bleeding wounds on his torso and head. Ren sees what he thinks are claw marks across its ribs and a deep bite on its neck where some of its fur seems to have been ripped away. It’s shaking, and even more so as it attempts to stand up, its eyes burning a hole through Ren’s own as they make contact. The low rumbling of its growl starts up again, only barely audible over the howling wind.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ren speaks in a low, soothing voice. Part of helping animals is knowing how to calm them enough to be helped in the first place. Slowly, like molasses, he carefully lowers and then returns his dagger to the sheath on his thigh.

The wolf does not break eye contact with him for even a moment. Its growl never ceases either.

With his weapon away, Ren holds up his hands to show he’s unarmed—although a part of him knows how silly it is considering what he’s facing—and tilts his head down, hoping he’s remembering his canine body language correctly and it’s a submissive gesture like he means it to be.

“I just want to help,” he continues. “I heard your scream and figured you were probably hurt. I’ve healed a lot of animals in this forest, it’s just…what I do, I guess. And I was right, you need healing—will you please let me?”

He knows the wolf can’t actually understand him, but the animals he’s encountered always seem more calm after he spoke to them.

The wolf doesn’t move besides the sway of his feet as he fights to keep himself upright.

Slowly, Ren starts to reach out with his free hand. “I promise I’m just here to help. Can I—“

It snaps, teeth gnashing at the air and Ren rescinds his hand as fast as his body allows. It isn’t necessary though, and neither is the blast of energy Ren automatically readies.

Instead of tearing his throat out like he’d expect, the wolf sinks back into the mud, its front legs splayed out in both directions under it.

The pitiful plop of the rest of it landing into the mud is the only warning Ren gets before he feels the ground beneath him shift. Even through his thick boots, a chill sinks into his bones as he feels himself slowly sinking down.

His gaze shoots downward only to find the toes of his boots slowly shrinking out of sight as the earth takes him. The wolf is disappearing too, more and more of its blood soaked fur being swallowed by the ground. Its garnet eyes—which were so full of vigor and fear just a moment—close and even over the howling wind, Ren swears he hears its resigned sigh.

Panic and adrenaline surge through Ren’s veins and his heart clenches. He knows what it’s doing—just letting the mudslide take it and welcome it to its end.

Fuck that.

“You’re coming with me.”

The air shifts as Ren feels a familiar hum in his chest. It spreads out to his fingertips and intensifies into a crackling and sparking of energy like the dancing flames of a fire. It warms him from the inside out, the little pocket of the forest around him slowly brightening with the silver glow that emanates from him.

The wolf’s eye snaps open and immediately locks onto him, looking through the now blinding light coming from Ren to meet him with a look of fear or surprise—Ren has no time to discern it before he hears a sloshing sound from the hill above him and he has to act.

The energy simmering within him coalesces and shoots out, calling forth to the vines and ivy littering the forest floor and commanding them to grow and expand outwards. They erupt from the sea of mud and wrap around Ren’s waist,weaving into a loose cot beneath the wolf before lifting them both up.

The moment they’re both in the air, an awfully wet and deafening rumble rocks the earth beneath them as the mud slides down the hill like a tsunami, collecting and building upon itself until it crashes at the bottom of the slope with a noise so loud it rattles Ren’s teeth.

In the relative silence of its wake—although the wind still fills Ren’s ear drums with ghastly howls—a soft yelp breaks the quiet. Ren’s head snaps over to the wolf, the very creature all of this is for, just to see its front legs and head jerking and wiggling erratically, like it is trying to careen itself over the edge of the ivy cot.

“Stop moving!” Ren cries. “Just give me a second, I can get us somewhere safe.”

For whatever reason, the wolf seems to struggle more at that, even resorting to biting the ivy beneath its head.

Ren urges the ivy to lift him closer to the wolf and it obliges, allowing him to rest a hand on its dirty and matted fur.

Immediately, it snaps its head back at him with its jaws snapping just out of reach of Ren’s arm.

He only needs a second, though. He can properly thank himself later for coming so prepared even with how last-minute it was, but for now, he reaches his free hand into his tool belt and pulls out the vial with his transport spell. He throws it back, ignoring the bitter and metallic taste, and closes his eyes, focusing on the image of his home. He pictures going back the route he came to get here, back through the forest and into the glade. From there, his mind treks past his garden and flower beds and through the front door and then through the door to his greenhouse work room. He focuses on the sight on his ivy work table where he operates on all the animals he takes under his care.

“Take us there,” he commands. The ivy hums with the command, bright silver light marbling its strands and leaves.

The world around Ren fades into a hazy echo of itself and he feels weightless despite the ivy’s grip on him. The spell begins to take hold and for a moment, the world is but a blur and vertigo overtakes him. The screech of his canine companion both splits his ears and soothes him to know he’s been brought along.

His feet find solid ground once again, but the force of the spell lurches him and then he’s crashing to his knees on the well-worn stone of his greenhouse. He’s only given a second to appreciate the blissful silence, free from the wind and its dreadful screams, before a thud! Followed by a whimper breaks it wide open again.

Ren’s back up on his feet within a moment—nausea and vertigo be damned—just in time to see the wolf widely swing its head to look at him, disorientation clear in its glassy eyes even despite the darkness of the room.

With a flick of his wrist, the oil lanterns and candles littering the shelves and suspended from the ceiling come to life, bathing the whole room in a warm, golden glow.

And… oh wow.

It was hard to tell in the dark and chaos of the forest, but seeing its hind legs hanging off the table he’s become so familiar with… the wolf is huge. It’s longer than Ren is tall and even through how filthy it is, he can see the ripples of muscles through its dirtied fur.

It hits just how dangerous of an animal he’s led directly into his home and—

Once again, those deadly fangs snap towards his face, but this time he’s properly alert. He jumps back and tunes into the ivy of the table which easily responds to his command as a strand wraps around the wolf’s snout and holds its jaw shut.

Grabbing onto either side of its face, Ren stares into its eyes, seeing all the fear and rage that is consuming it from the inside. Before it can even think to retaliate with its very large and clawed paws, Ren shoves their foreheads together and lets his magic flow through every bit of contact between them.

“Sleep,” he commands, with all the fervor and fire of his desperation to do something, to be useful.

He realizes, as the wolf’s eyes immediately roll back and its whole body goes limp, that perhaps he didn’t need that much power behind it. Usually anyone affected has a few seconds to stumble and nod off as the exhaustion hits them. But, well, Ren is nothing if not passionate.

Finally, as the wolf’s whole body falls limp and the soft rumbles of its snores fill the silence between them, Ren blows out a deep breath. He fights the overwhelming urge to keel over and exhaustion burns in his bones, he’s splattered with mud and blood and what he can guess are rope burns from the ivy, but…

It’s alive. He found the animal who made that horrific cry of pain.

With a quick search of the shelves, he easily finds an energy potion and downs it all at once, letting its vigorous effects wash over him.

He takes another look at the beautiful but terrifying beast snoring away on his table. Even without a thorough examination, the damage is extensive. Deep, scarlet red gouges litter every part of its body, not to mention—

Ren winces at the mere sight of the wolf’s left back leg. The way the leg itself doesn’t align, the lower part clearly limp and beyond a doubt broken.

“Shit,” he mumbles. It’s going to take a lot to even begin to fix that.

Pulling out his usual ingredients and tools, Ren resigns himself to another sleepless night.

It'll be beyond worth it if he can heal this poor soul, if he can salvage a creature who so easily welcomed its own demise.

If he can save it, maybe they can both be okay.

Ren doesn’t remember falling asleep—or more accurately passing out—all he knows is that when he opens his eyes, he’s greeted by a large furry face and lively garnet eyes boring into him.

“Woah!” He tries to move away, only to feel his back dig into the uncomfortable stone floor.

“Argh!”

The wolf’s bark splits Ren’s ears, but it quickly backs off in an awkward backwards shuffle. The room is almost too small for it as it rams its behind into his storage shelves, its confused yelp painfully harmonizing in Ren’s ears with the rattling of the glass potion bottles.

As Ren hauls himself up onto his unsteady feet, his brain finally catches up and the entirety of the last night and early morning come flooding back to him:

His shaking hands glowing with magic, desperately mixing magic and natural healing to the gashes that littered the wolf’s body. And, of course, its leg. Broken and bleeding in its lower half, it’s a wonder the wolf stayed asleep with how much it took for Ren to put it back together. Re-aligning the fractured bone was the last thing he did last night, his worry and insistence to see this through to the end blindsiding him to the heavy pull of exhaustion in his body.

He only noticed it when it was already too late—the last glimpses he got before collapsing was the rising sun peeking out from behind the clouds through the glass walls and a piercing garnet gaze from the table.

Now, as he stares into those same eyes, wondering how he—and Ren had realized quite quickly after seeing the wolf with his underside exposed that he is certainly a he—managed to free himself from the ivy constraints, he realizes just what he got himself into. The wolf tilts, unsteady on his feet as he tries to shimmy around, but he hardly has any room to move in the cramped space.

For a moment, Ren can’t help but feel amazed at the fact he’s up and moving at all, considering how unsure he’d been just a few hours ago about his own ability to even attempt to save him. And yet already, the angry red of his gashes and puncture marks have lessened and calmed. As he turns his head back and forth at the sounds of empty bottles clacking against the floor from his bushy tail knocking them off, Ren sees the dilated pupils he suspects came from a concussion are absent too.

Maybe he can chalk it up to his own powers simply growing stronger the more practice he gets, but the wolf seems to be faring better than he expected.

The wolf’s tail swings in irritation, only to get stuck in a narrow shelf behind him.

“Arf!” He cries in alarm and tries to jump back, only for him to stumble and slam his massive body into the tall cabinet beside him. Glass doors rattle, the potion bottles clank together, the wood groans from the most force it's probably felt in its lifetime. Everything in this room is fragile and practically foaming at the mouth to shatter and send the wolf into even more of a frenzy.

“Stop!” Ren cries out as he finds his voice amongst the chaos.

The wolf does stop, as much as he can with his balance still off-kilter anyways, but he growls, either to Ren or to the shelf still holding his tail hostage, Ren can’t tell.

“You’re going to break something and then get even more hurt,” Ren explains as he takes slow, hesitant steps towards him. “Trust me, I’ve done it before. It doesn’t end well.”

The growling stops, although his ears remain pinned against his head.

“Just think about it,” Ren stops a few paces in front of him, “the glass will get all over the floor, and then you’ll get shards in glass in your paw pads.”

“Grr-rumph,” he replies. Not quite a growl, not quite a huff.

A grumble, Ren thinks. If he ignores the large and sharp fangs he’s bearing right now, he’d even find it cute.

Slowly and carefully, Ren lowers himself to the ground, dutifully ignoring the burn in his exhausted calves as he does it. He’ll just have to grab a tonic once he gets the massive animal out of his most breakable room. None of the smaller animals he’s helped before were ever quite this destructive, at least they were usually small enough for Ren to wrangle and manhandle until they were outside or at least in the main room.

Fully crouching on the ground, Ren realizes that he is somehow missing one of his boots—and wow, does that make crouching uncomfortable—but that he ought to make a show of good faith. So far, he’s only communicated to the wolf in ways another person would understand, maybe bridging the gap between them will somewhat put him at ease.

It’s been a while since he’s thought about it, but he remembers being told by the city locals to always stand up straight and act confident around the stray dogs that took up residence in the alleyways. Otherwise, they’d quickly clock him as a pushover and learn to bully him for food, or so he’d been told. Perhaps acting intentionally meek would have the opposite effect?

Averting his eyes to the floor and slumping his shoulders, Ren can’t help but stifle a bewildered laugh at the mental image of him seemingly bowing to this wolf.

“If you’d calm down, I can let you out of here. There’s more room for you in the main room. I can get you some food too—“

“Arf!”

Ren barely avoids flinching at the ear-splitting bark that stabs his ears and rattles his teeth with its volume.

Once his ears are done ringing, he musters a soft, “You want food?”

“Rauw!” At least, thank whatever gods are out there, this one isn’t nearly as loud.

“Alright,” Ren rises, “you gotta stay still for a bit, okay?”

A bit uneasy on his own feet, Ren manages to hobble over to the heavy oak door and pulls the lock free, the hinges groaning as the door slowly swings inward. Ren lets it support his weight as he leans against it, watching in silent fascination as the wolf shimmies his way out of his cramped corner and limps through the doorway and into the cottage proper.

He just barely manages on his three good legs, although his balance is testy and grip lacking, nearly falling with every few steps. Ren grimaces at his broken leg as he walks past, he’s holding it up towards his body so it doesn’t touch the ground, and although Ren already re-aligned the bone, it certainly hasn’t set. He needs a cast, and badly.

Ren thinks back to the people he tended to in the city, but there the coven had access to expensive, imported materials that were readily available in the city and perfect for such a large injury, but ones he has no clue how to obtain in the here and now. None of the animals he’s helped here in the forest needed such extensive care.

But, as he watches the wolf take tentative steps into his living room, eagerly sniffing at the ground and woven rugs, he knows he’ll make it work, he’ll figure it out. He always does, and he has no intention of losing now.

~~~

Fulfilling his promise of getting the wolf food proves harder than Ren thought when he blurted it out earlier. He’s well aware that wolves are carnivores that subsist mainly on meat, but he doesn’t have any, he doesn’t need to when he’s happy with the vegetables he grows in the garden and the bushes he can forage. He does occasionally catch some fish from the creek during the winter when his preserves aren’t quite enough for him. He’d have to catch some now and rather quickly too, considering how he woke up in the late afternoon and the sun is due to set soon.

After chugging yet another energy potion—he desperately needs to brew more and quickly— Ren plods over to where a large and bushy tail sticks out from behind his kitchen counters. The cottage is small and he arrives in only a few steps, giving him time to catch the wolf in the act before he can even think to back up. Peeking around the counter, Ren sees a snout still caked in last night’s dried blood nosing at his jars of preserves, before a jaw of sharp teeth opens and surprisingly delicately grabs the top of one.

“What are you doing?” Ren asks before he can think better of it.

“Hrr?” The wolf’s head turns to look at him with a single eye, the jar still held tightly in his maw. There’s a distinctly caught-out look in his eye, so similar to the alley dogs when he’d find them nosing into his bag for food or the occasional child who chose the apothecary shop’s pillar outside as a hiding spot in a game.

“Put that down!”

Ren only gets a single blissful second to feel surprised at how readily the wolf listened, before the sound of shattering glass sends him nearly jumping out of his skin.

“No, not that’s now what I—! No, don’t—!” Ren’s attention is pulled a thousand different directions as the wolf huffs at his distress before he leans his head down and begins licking at the mess of jam with seemingly no care for the way he indiscriminately licks shards of broken glass and wildberry preserves.

Ren begins to reach out, to stop him or pick up the glass, he isn’t sure, but stops himself, knowing better than to get between an animal and its food, a lesson he’s learned from many times before and has the faded scars on his hands and arms to prove it.

Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise, though. What better time to slip out than when he’s already preoccupied?

“That’s… ugh, fine. Let me just—I’ll be back, alright? Don’t do anything…worse, I suppose.”

The wolf doesn’t move or stop in his ravishment of his dangerous meal as Ren backs up, slips out of his single boot to toe into a proper pair by the door, and sneaks out. Although, the last thing he sees before the door shuts is the wolf’s head pop up, his wide eyes staring in alarm at Ren from over the counter.

Oh well, Ren can only hope he goes back to eating peacefully and that he doesn’t get attacked when he gets back. Animals can be unpredictable, but surely he can appease him with fresh fish regardless.

Catching fish in the stream is leagues harder now in the spring, when they move so quickly with the rush of melting mountain snow. In the winter they’re much slower and Ren can merely snatch them from the freezing cold water with a quick grab. Now though, he struggles with his handmade net he rarely uses as it continually tries to tangle itself and not do the one job it was made for. He could try to slow the water with his magic, but after the long morning hours he spent working and the idea for the cast he’s brewing in his head, he’ll need all the energy he can muster.

And so, he leaves the creek with a mere two fish. Hardly enough for a full grown wolf and especially one of his impressive size, but it’s better than nothing. As he sits down on a sunny spot on his stool and rummages a knife from his belt, the instincts he’s honed his whole childhood growing up on the beach and deboning fish take over and he’s only left with his thoughts.

Caring for such an enormous animal is certainly new to Ren, let alone the way he’s nearly half as long as the cottage itself. He can deal with some messes and such, he thinks. Letting him outside just isn’t an option, not when he could easily leave and might not make it on his own. But then again, he can’t solely be inside, not when he’ll need to relieve himself and…

“Ugh,” Ren groans to himself as he gets up and walks back to the creek to quickly wash his hands and knife. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine. I can always wrangle him back in if I really need to.” It’d be a large expenditure of energy, but he could do it.

When he opens the door with the fish fillets stacked neatly on a large tree leaf, he’s immediately interrupted by a snout wedging itself in the barely opened door.

“Woah!”

The wolf’s nose aggressively twitches as he sniffs, and as the door opens just a bit more, Ren can see the moment he locks onto the fish, his pupils dilating and lips curling back in a snarl.

Knowing he only has microseconds before his arm is chewed off, Ren kicks the door wide open and tosses the fillets on the floor inside.

“Arf!” The wolf pivots and slips but regains his balance before hobbling over to the fresh food. Ren only lets himself breathe and step inside once the admittedly disconcerting sound of him eating fills the room.

“There’s your food, now please don’t try to take my arm off next time?”

He gets no response except for more chewing sounds and a tail that wags so aggressively he worries for the trinkets and crystals on the nearby shelves.

Sighing, Ren makes his way back to the kitchen to grab himself a jar of preserves just to get something in his stomach after he hasn’t eaten since last night’s dinner and kicks aside the licked clean glass. It’s somehow both impressive and concerning that no remnant of the spilled jam remains, even the glass shards are licked clean with only a few blood droplets drying on the stone.

So he didn’t hurt his mouth that much… Smart dog.

As Ren leans back against the counter and eats his first meal in nearly 24 hours, he watches the wolf devour the fish fillets like they’re nothing, his eyes rake over him and how his body is awkwardly splayed out, with his broken leg held so uncomfortably against himself. The stone floor is like ice at times and even with the thick fur coats he sports, that can’t be comfortable. With such a cramped space, there is only one truly unoccupied spot that isn’t walking space, to the left of the crackling fireplace. Setting aside his now empty jar, it only takes a minute or two to gather up the free quilts and blankets uselessly strewn about the floor into his arms before carefully arranging them into a makeshift bed. About halfway through pushing around the surprisingly heavy fabric, the slightest inkling of a feeling alerts him to a presence behind.

Looking over his shoulder, he’s unsurprised to see the wolf standing behind him, licking his chops. He hobbles over, sticking his long snout into the blankets.

“This is for you. I thought it’d be more comfy than just the floor.”

The wolf stops sniffing and stares at him. Ren’s instincts with animals tells him to avert his gaze, to not make eye contact lest he thinks it’s a challenge and becomes aggressive. But there’s something so enchanting swirling in those big eyes of his, some deep emotion or thought that Ren can’t name, but that sends the hair on his arms and the back of his neck rising.

What a strange creature, he thinks. But maybe it’s just the effects of his isolation making him read into things.

The wolf sneezes, breaking their eye contact in a wholly unnecessary full shake of his head. Again, he nearly tips over completely, and Ren barely manages to control his impulse to reach out and grab him.

“You’re going to fall over! Come here, just lay down. I still need to make your cast.”

He sneezes again, but shambles over and all but collapses into the blankets with a heavy sigh befitting only the most stressed laborers. Already, his eyelids are drooping to nearly closed, and Ren feels his own fatigue wash away as he realizes just how tired and in pain he must be.

Ren lets out a long sigh of his own. “Oh, you poor thing. I’m so sorry about all this. But I’ll do my best to fix it, alright?”

A single red eye cracks open, followed by the loudest and most disgruntled grumble Ren’s ever heard.

A surprised laugh punches out from Ren, which only causes him to grumble yet again.

“You’re very talkative,” Ren notes as he shuffles into a more comfortable position beside him.

He continues as he shuffles the blankets around until the broken leg is elevated and supported properly. Talking to animals always feels so easy for him, like the words just come pouring out of him.

“Since you’re going to be here for a while—“ Yet another grumble. “Yes, yes, I know. But since you need to stay here for a while, I should probably name you. You can’t just be Wolf-chan forever, you know?”

This time, the wolf lifts his head up and stares at Ren with more contempt than he thought an animal could muster.

He laughs as magic flows through his fingertips and ivy vines, glowing with a faint hue of silver, sprout out from the cracks in the stones below and grow and thicken around the wolf’s broken leg.

Despite how counterintuitive as it seems, talking really does help him concentrate as he directs the vines to slowly but firmly wrap around the fracture, holding the bone together.

“I think… Hmm. You’re always grumbling at me, you have been all day. So maybe… Oh, I got it!”

With a mischievous smirk, he turns to the wolf who is still watching him from behind his droopy eyelids. “Goro! You know, like go-ro? It’s how you describe something low and rolling, like thunder, at least that’s what we’d say back where I grew up. Some people in the city use it for a cat’s purr, too. But doesn’t that fit you? You’re always grumbling like ‘go-ro-go-ro’.”

The vines have enveloped the full length of his leg now, but the wolf continues his soulful gaze at Ren. Finally, after a quick and uneventful staring contest, he closes his eyes with a small huff.

Ren smiles, mostly to himself, but he lets it bleed into his voice as well. “I’ll call you Goro, then.” He gently lays a hand on the thick and woven tangle of vines, testing its sturdiness. It’s nothing compared to what he could make with materials in the city, but it should be firm enough to allow the bone to fuse back together.

The magic retracts back up his fingers and settles into the omnipresent warmth in his heart. The plants remain still and diligent in their hold of his leg.

Letting his shoulders drop with a fatigue that he can feel an ache behind his eyes, Ren rises and murmurs a soft, “I’m happy you’re here, Goro.” He barely hears his own words over the drone of Goro snoring away in his makeshift bed.

Chapter Text

Despite Ren’s initial worries about the cast’s integrity, the effect it has is almost immediate.

When Ren wakes the next morning, finally recuperated from his sleepless night, it is to the sunlight beaming into his eyes and the sound of scratching and clanking metal. He rises quickly, adrenaline surging through him at the foreign noise and not even bothering to change his clothes beyond pulling on a robe, and shuffles into the kitchen.

There he’s met with the sight of Goro precariously balancing on his one good hind leg, with his front paws scratching and clamoring at the lock on the front door.

“Goro?! What are you doing?”

The wolf whines, the same kind of begging Ren was all too familiar with from the stray dogs he always fed. He claws at the lock again, his sharp nails grinding against the iron with a sound that is as painful to Ren’s ears as it is pitiful.

It’s almost like he knows the lock is what is blocking him from opening the door, but surely a wild wolf wouldn’t know that. When the hell would he have even encountered a door before?

A half-forgotten memory springs to the front of Ren’s mind: a fellow witch in the coven, Yusuke, had a domesticated fox as a pet. It became commonplace for the little fox to wait at the door to be let out to pee, just like any other pet dog would.

Goro whines again, an undercurrent of urgency in his voice.

Ren slowly approaches him, still being cautious of startling a wild and dangerous animal, but Goro lets him come close and even backs off as Ren sets a hand on the lock.

“I’ll let you out to relieve yourself, alright? But you have to promise me you won’t run away. You’re in no condition to be in the wild by yourself with your leg, got it?”

Despite how obviously and factually stupid it is to be asking for promises of a wolf who cannot speak, Goro quickly responds. He sneezes—or is it a nod? His whole head certainly moves in a sharp downward line as if he’s nodding.

“Good enough, I guess?” Ren unlatches the lock and begins to turn the knob, not missing how Goro’s tail begins vigorously wagging as he does so. “No running away; you promised.”

The door opens and Goro is darting through it before it’s even fully open.

For a quadruped with only three functional limbs, Goro moves fast; he’s but a blur of auburn and browns as he zeroes in on the closest bush.

Ren’s intuition proves correct as Goro proceeds to awkwardly lift a hind leg and pees in the low shrub for well over a minute straight.

Holy shit, Ren thinks. Just how long was he holding his bladder?!

Part of Ren feels awkward for being outside in just a robe, but his curiosity—and fear of Goro trying to make a run for it—piques as the minute Goro is done, he’s hobbling about the perimeter of the cottage, nose low to the ground and sniffing intently.

Ren follows him from a few steps behind, just observing him as he investigates the small flower beds and the garden.

“Find anything noteworthy, Detective Wolf?” Ren jokes.

For the first time since he’s started, Goro breaks from his sniffing to shoot Ren a look over his shoulder. His pinned back ears and gruff hmph speak for themselves.

The air between them fills with the sound of Ren’s laughter. Goro lets out another hmph before returning his nose to the ground, although his wagging tail belies whatever sense of amusement he may feel.

~~~

About a week passes before Ren realizes just how truly different he feels. His previously lonesome days are now filled with Goro, who has grown to be quite curious and literally nosy now that the cast is allowing him to heal.

With everything Ren does, it’s become commonplace to hear the quiet shuffle of three paws on the ground just behind him, following his every step and move. It’s been days since he’s gotten surprised by an auburn snout poking into whatever has his attention.

Goro insists on inspecting everything Ren does or uses, whether it be his net, his trowel, or just straight up dunking his head into all of Ren’s baskets. Ren learns to encourage it, holding out his tools for inspection and approval. Goro deems them all ‘worthy’ with a strange protocol concocted by his wolf brain: a few sniffs and a lick or two and, in the case of a very interesting object, taking it in his mouth and walking away completely.

Ren always catches up to him easily as he tries to hobble away, but it’s made harder by the way his chest seizes with laughter. The game of keep-away quickly morphs into a tug-of-war, one that is always won by Ren, but it’s easy to see that Goro lets him win; Ren wouldn’t stand a chance if Goro used the full strength of his massive jaws.

It’s almost unthinkable for him to remember how everything he did he used to do alone when he now has a companion hot on his heels at all times. And if said companion is quite a bit odd, then in Ren’s eyes: all the better.

Sometimes he is reminded so much of a fox with Goro’s shenanigans: the stealing of tools, the nosy prodding into everything, and especially the truly fascinating way he moves so silently for such a large animal. Other times, Goro’s kinship with the domestic dogs Ren befriended in the city is as stark as black on white. The way he wags his tail so briskly when Ren calls to him to announce his fish is ready, the way he inquisitively tilts his head when asked a question, how he waits by the front door each morning to be let out to relieve himself.

Ren’s inexperience with wolves is all too obvious even to himself, but he thanks his lucky stars that Goro’s behavior is at least somewhat familiar to him, whether that be the common ancestor he shares with dogs or how he anthropomorphizes him.

Regardless, Goro’s presence is… well, a blessing. His help is minimal overall, especially with his limited movement, but his mere presence unwinds a tight ball that Ren never realized had formed in his chest.

Beyond Morgana’s short-lived visits or the occasional brief stay of an injured critter, Ren is not alone for the first time in years. He can’t believe how much the loneliness has seeped into and chilled into his bones and very foundation, until Goro’s oddly soothing presence warmed them up.

Every morning, Ren dresses and washes his face in his basin before letting Goro out. He goes to relieve himself before following Ren to the creek to collect fresh water and fish. At first, Goro simply stood alert on the rocks on the creek’s border observing Ren with his net and enthusiastically barking each time it drew up a fish.

Today, Goro nearly gives Ren a heart attack when a large furry body suddenly lurches into the water beside him and snatched a fish straight from the water. Goro slips as he hops back onto the bank, but quickly rights himself and looks expectantly up at Ren with the fish still squirming between his jaws.

Ren stares at him, dumbfounded. It is always a surprise to see Goro move so quickly, but Ren certainly never thought he’d just jump in like that. Another part of him is shocked the fish is still alive, that Goro didn’t just devour it the moment he caught it.

Instead, Goro hobbles over and unceremoniously drops the fish with the others in Ren’s basket.

“Um… thank you?” Ren is still mostly at a loss for words as Goro sits back on his haunches on the sunny rocks like nothing happened.

He’s always known Goro is incredibly smart and especially perceptive of Ren’s activities, but still… For him to understand enough to catch a fish and then leave it for later when his very instincts are presumably fighting against him is incredible.

Mentally, Ren makes a note of it and continues with their day.

From there, the pattern only continues. Where Goro once would sit back and watch as Ren did his routine maintenance of the garden after lunch, he now surges forward, already sniffing all the plants and even tasting the air with his tongue.

Before Ren can even plead for him to not eat any of them, Goro’s paws are already sinking into the soft soil and digging at a rapid speed, turning the garden into a haze of flying soil. Within seconds, Goro’s looking up at him again, a perfect carrot held precariously in his mouth. He doesn’t bite down, instead, he sticks his head into the basket propped up on Ren’s hip and drops it in.

“Oh! Goro, thank you! You just saved me some time. But how did you know to…?”

In lieu of a response, Goro simply turns around and begins digging at the next sprout of leaves popping up from the soil.

In much less time than Ren could muster without using magic, all the carrots and potatoes are dug up and deposited carefully into his basket. Goro’s method is much faster, yes, but now loose soil decorates the nearby grass and side of the cottage behind the garden. Goro barks with his tail wagging up a storm and returns to his usual perch with his back to the cottage, eyes trained on the expanse of the glade and forest to Ren’s back.

“…thank you, Goro.”

Still feeling stunned, Ren continues on like usual and tends to the rest of the plants, but he finds himself returning over and over again to the way Goro only tended to the root vegetables, almost like he knew he could dig them up.

Ren frowns as trims leaves and picks berries. How odd… Could Goro have had contact with humans before? Surely Ren can’t be the only person living in the middle of the woods, there ought to be cottages and settlements elsewhere. It would certainly explain a lot of his odd behavior; the more he thinks about it, Goro seems far too trusting and comfortable with him for a wild animal with no human contact before.

That must be it, he decides,and he rises and brushes the soil off his skirt.

“Is it true?” he asks. Goro tilts his head to the side and Ren has to stifle his giggle at the adorable sight. “Have you met humans before? You’re just so…” ‘Friendly’ is not the right word but, “You’re quite comfortable with me. You seem to understand a lot about how us humans do things. Have you met someone like me before?”

In his heart, Ren knows he won’t get an answer, but there’s something comforting about it. A comfort that makes itself stark as Goro sneezes, almost like a nod.

It’s good enough of a response for Ren though, and he grabs his basket and leads Goro back down to the creek to wash the produce.

It’s how much of their days go: walking back and forth from the cottage to the creek and to the bushes bordering the glade to forage the berries that grow there.

As the days pass, Goro grows just a bit more bold. First, he snatched and devoured some berries directly from Ren’s basket when his back was turned. Then he apparently couldn’t wait for Ren to prepare the fish for him and instead started tearing the meat off the bone with his own teeth.

Today, Ren pulls on his clothes as usual and halts in his mindless steps towards the front door once he notices that it’s empty. It’s hard to miss a giant wolf in a tiny cottage, and Goro is nowhere.

Opening the only other door in the building, it creaks open to reveal the sight of a hunched furry back and a long snout nosing along his shelves.

“Goro!” Ren calls, taking the few steps it takes to reach him.

The sound of sniffing halts and a single garnet eye peers back at him. With a soft but clearly audible ha-rumph, Goro shuffles backwards away from the shelf and sits back on his haunches. With his ears pinned back and head ever so slightly bowed, Ren has to bite his lip to stifle his laughter. He looks so pathetic, like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. As he has that thought, he realizes that’s probably exactly what happened.

“Goro, what were you doing?” Ren asks, putting his hands on his hips.

Goro huffs before letting out a long string of half-hearted grumbles.

“Uh huh?” Taking a step forward, Ren inspects the bottles, twisting a few around and rearranging them the way he had it before. “What were you even looking for, anyways? These bottles are all sealed shut—you shouldn’t be able to smell anything from them.”

More grumbles that have become as synonymous with the wolf as his name.

Ren straightens and as he leads Goro out of the room, he hesitates with his hand on the door. “How’d you get this open anyways…?”

This time, Goro doesn’t respond. Instead, he simply waits by the door for him as if nothing had happened.

After three weeks of living with Goro, Ren makes a discovery he wishes he knew about sooner.

The morning is clear and sunny, with the only evidence of the storm that blew through the area last night being the innumerable branches and debris now littering the glade. Usually, Ren would mostly leave them be, but he always takes up the task of clearing the ones that lay directly in his usual paths or garden.

It’s as he picks one up and turns that he is met with a sight that is entirely new to him. Goro stands before him, his front half bowed to the ground and balancing on his one good hind leg. His tail wags in the air above him, and his heavy panting is only interrupted by a sharp arf arf!

It takes a moment, but as Ren glances between Goro and the branch in his hand, the dots connect. Images of the alley dogs he befriended and the games he played with him flash in his mind.

“You… Do you want to play?”

“Arf arf!”

Well. He is a dog, Ren thinks.

“Alright… go get it!”

The branch isn’t the best for being thrown as it barely even soars over Goro’s head, but that does nothing to dampen his enthusiasm as he springs up into the air and catches it in his mouth.

With a trot where Goro only narrowly avoids slipping, he returns and drops the branch at Ren’s feet.

Getting the hint and not being able to hide the smile from his face, Ren throws it again, farther this time, and watches in joy as Goro is again able to land on his three good legs. His balance has been improving each day, and pride swells in Ren’s heart as he throws the branch for him again and again.

His very scary feral wolf friend also loves to play catch.

Duly noted, he thinks as he’s already brainstorming better throwing objects for their game. It’s great to see him run as well, even with how short the bursts are. It’s far from his top speed at full health, Ren knows, but even with such an injury, Ren can’t help but feel that Goro could outrun him, if even for a short time.

A game of catch becomes part of their routine too, slotting perfectly between Ren’s morning upkeep of the cottage and lunch. Running around and keeping up with him—even at Goro’s slower pace—tires them both out and Ren carries a basket with their lunch over to the sun baked rocks on the creek’s bank. A vegetable medley salad for Ren and fish fillets for Goro, whose messy eating took Ren a bit to get used to. At least dining outside means there’s no need for Ren to clean the mess.

It’s during one of those ordinary lunches when a poof! of magic nearly sends Ren jumping into the creek in surprise.

The chaos descends like a tidal wave—turbulent and simultaneous: a sunburst of golden light poofs into existence as Morgana drops gracefully onto the rocks, Ren yelps and sends his meal flying out of his lap, Goro barks and jumps into a defensive stance, his teeth bared as he lets out a low growl.

“Gyah?! What is that?!” Morgana shrieks.

“Grr…”

“Woah woah woah!” Ren leaps to his feet, perfectly positioned between them. Morgana’s back is now arched with all his fur standing on end and his tail poofed out. “Everybody calm down!”

Another low growl sends instinctive shivers down Ren’s spine.

“That means you too, Goro!” he scolds. “Both of you stand down.”

“Is that a wolf? What the hell is it here for?”

“I will explain once I’m sure no one here is going to die!”

Ren whips around to face Goro, whose eyes are locked onto Morgana with the most lethal of intent.

“Goro.” He completely ignores him. “Goro, listen to me. This is Morgana; he’s my friend. He’s no threat to either of us, so I need you to calm down.”

“Grr…”

“He’s my friend,” he firmly repeats. “He’s the one who guided me here when I was lost in the Deep.”

Ren isn’t sure what meaning Goro could glean from his words, but something about it must strike a chord within him as his eyes soften and tensed stance relaxes. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—Goro returns to his normal standing position and shoots an unreadable look up at Ren.

All the tension keeping Ren’s body taut  loosens. “Thank you, Goro. Now we can be introduced like civilized animals.”

“Hey!” Morgana pipes up, the majority of his defensive stance relaxing. “I’m more than just an animal!”

Goro huffs loudly.

Ren chooses to ignore both of them. “Morgana, this is Goro. I found him injured during that awful storm last month. He’s staying here while his leg heals. Please treat him with the same respect you would to any other guest of mine.”

He turns to Goro, who keeps his eyes locked on Morgana even as Ren speaks to him. “Goro, this is Morgana. I just told you how we met so I won’t repeat myself. Please treat him with the same respect you show me.”

Much to Ren’s amusement, Goro and Morgana huff at the same time.

“There you go,” he laughs. “See, you’re getting along already!”

 ~~~

As Ren cleans up their lunch and prepares for his afternoon chores, he is acutely aware of the still simmering tension between the two animals in his midst. He pretends not to hear the synchronized growl and hiss each time he turns his back on the pair, and pretends not to notice again as they both drop their defensive stances the moment he turns back around. As long as they don’t act on their aggression, it’s probably fine… or at least so he hopes. 

“So,” Morgana finally trades his hisses for actual speech as Ren bends down to tend to his garden. “You have a… guest.” 

“That I do.” 

“He’s really been here for a few weeks? And he’s… been friendly?” ‘And hasn’t killed you yet?’ remains unsaid, but Morgana’s intention comes across just as clearly. 

Ren sighs as he picks berries off a bush. “Is it really so unbelievable?” 

“Well–” At the very edge of Ren’s vision, Morgana’s ears flatten to the sides of his head. “Honestly, yes.”

“Arf!” 

Ren barely manages to not jump at the sudden bark from behind him. 

From his perch on the low garden fence, Morgana turns to Goro with his back arched. “You’re feral! And a predator! What, that’s insulting to you?!” 

“Ruff ruff!” 

Goro, who only a mere moment ago was happily digging out the root vegetables per their usual routine, hops out of the shallow hole he was working on and tries to weave around Ren towards Morgana. 

Once again, Ren steps between them. 

“Guys! What is your problem?!” 

The sudden weight of Morgana hopping onto his shoulder does nothing to break his fierce stance. 

“I’ve known you way longer than that mutt!”

“Bark bark bark bark!” 

Oh this is just ridiculous. 

“Are you seriously telling me this is a jealousy thing?!” 

“Grr…” Despite his bared teeth and raised hackles, the paw Goro places on Ren’s thigh as he stares at Morgana is surprisingly gentle.  

Morgana responds with an indignant mrow and jumps onto Ren’s head, causing his glasses to fall down his nose and his hair to fall into his eyes. 

“Guys, guys!” 

“Grr… Ruff ruff!”

“Mrow! Get your dirty paw off him, you beast!”

“I can’t see—Guys!” 

It’s only after Ren threatens to go walk into the Deep and leave them both behind that Goro and Morgana finally calm down. Although nothing is said, there’s an air of an unspoken truce between the two. They seem content to simply ignore each other as Morgana catches up with Ren and Goro trails along, his paws on the ground never more than a few inches away from Ren’s own boots. 

Despite how disastrously the day has gone so far, it actually becomes fun to chat with his friend while continuously scratching Goro’s head, lest he feel ignored. 

Like a modicum of good luck is graciously bestowed on Ren, once they’ve calmed down, Goro and Morgana actually tire each other out. In a sight that Ren commits each second of to memory, they actually start playing together. 

Morgana poofs away in a cloud of sparkles and magic only to reappear right behind Goro, who twists around to snap his jaws at him. At first, Ren fears that the two’s inevitable fight is finally coming to fruition, before he notices both of their relaxed ears and Goro’s furiously wagging tail. They go on like that for a while: Morgana disappearing and Goro chasing him after he apparates, all the while they goad and taunt each other. 

Ren takes a seat in the grass to watch and relax and enjoy his friends finally getting along. 

The thought of stopping them enters Ren’s mind as the sun arcs across the sky and his usual dinnertime quickly encroaching, but a single glance at Goro in a play bow as Morgana pounces towards him wipes it all away. 

It’s only a few more minutes of bliss before the pair wind down, stretching and yawing in unison. 

And then, as if pulled along by the same string, Ren feels his furry companions curl up against his legs. Both of their soft snores warm his heart more than the almost setting sun kissing his skin.

Morgana departs the next morning—too soon as always—but the moments immediately after are unlike any of the times before. Usually, Ren bids farewell to his friend with a lump in his throat that he desperately tries to talk around, and spends the rest of the day feeling his absence like a phantom limb. This time, his departure hurts as always, but it’s nowhere near as soul crushing. The silence of solitude that once would’ve nearly driven Ren mad is now filled with the sounds of paws following his every step and the most expressive whines.

It feels like how saying goodbye to a friend should be: bittersweet, but life goes on.

“What would I do without you?” Ren asks.

Swish swish swish.

~~~

It’s while he’s crouched on the ground beside Goro’s bed, his hands humming with magic as he gently runs healing magic into every newly exposed bit of Goro’s leg as he peels away the cast.

His eyes go wide as he takes in the entirety of Goro’s leg and runs his hand over it to confirm his findings.

“Goro,” he exclaims.

Goro lifts his head up with a “Hrr?”

Ren laughs, unable to hold it back at just how cute he is sometimes. “Your leg is healing beautifully!”

Goro’s ears point straight ahead at the same time he sits up a bit.

“That’s right!” Ren reaches over his large body to bury a hand into the fluffy fur on his head and jostles him with the intensity of his pets. “You’ve been listening to me about taking it easy then, huh?”

Ren nearly jumps back in surprise at Goro’s sneeze.

“Ah! Don’t scare me like that.”

Almost as if in apology, Goro leans his head back into Ren’s hand. Something deep in Ren’s chest swells and burns, an affection so strong it nearly hurts seizing his heart.

Goro’s leg is doing well—he might even be able to start walking on it again in short bursts. But once he’s fully healed—and maybe even before then—Goro will want to leave, to return to the wild.

To where he belongs, his logical side provides.

And yet, despite knowing that to be the truth, that it’d only be cruel to keep Goro forever confined to the glade just to abate Ren’s loneliness, the thought of him walking off into the forest to never be seen again sends a pang of pure pain into Ren’s heart. The heat of tears prick behind his eyes as he struggles to swallow around the lump around his throat.

He’s an animal, he reminds himself. Stop getting so attached.

It does nothing to ease his pain.

What does jolt him back to the present is the sudden onslaught of a foreign sensation: something wet and warm striping up the side of his face.

“Ah—?!”

Ren barely catches himself from falling back onto his ass.

His head lifts up and then all he sees is fur and bright eyes boring right into him.

“Gor—” Goro moves, lunging across the scant space between them to give him another lick.

It’s gross and the sensation is so strange, but it’s so sweet, especially as Ren spots a blur of movement in his periphery—Goro’s fluffy tail vigorously wags behind him, even thumping against the wall a few times.

The pain and loneliness eases away, like shadows evaporating after the arrival of daylight. In its stead, laughter and earth-shattering affection tears right into him and itches his limbs into action. Ren gives in as he reaches up with both hands this time to ruffle up Goro’s fur in a flurry of pets.

“Thank you, Goro. Got a bit lost in my head there, didn’t I?”

“Arf!” Goro ducks under his hand to set a massive paw on his shoulder. Buckling under the sudden weight and force, Ren falls back, but his hands buried in Goro’s fur almost takes him down with him.

“Oof! What’d you do that for—? Oh, be careful with your leg!”

Goro either deliberately ignores him or simply can’t understand—Ren can never quite tell the difference. His injured leg touches the ground multiple times as they play, with Ren calling out to him each time to be careful.

Their wrestling continues until Goro decides he’s had enough and flops back onto his bed.

With the lack of a heavy and playful dog on him, Ren finally has the space for his brain to start working again.

The current healing spells he’s been using have done the job just fine, but he’d love nothing more than to ensure Goro’s full recovery. Back in the coven, they had a myriad of ways to treat such grave injuries, but now Ren is all on his lonesome.

“Wish I could do a bit more for you, bud.” He reaches over to gently stroke Goro’s fur. “I guess I have some ways to bolster my power, but… well, I’d have to wait for—”

Ren jolts as if struck by a bolt of lightning. Goro’s head follows with an inquisitive tilt.

“Stay here, buddy.” Ren commands with a playful pat before rising to his feet and takes the few steps to the sunroom. As he browses his innumerable shelves for the book he swears he put somewhere near, he sees a slowly moving mass of auburn and brown coming near.

“Goro…” he scolds without looking. He hears a small huff and is opening his mouth to reply when the familiar crimson leather finally catches his eye.

“Aha!” Quickly scrambling onto the lower shelves and reaching past the randomly placed potions in the way, he manages to snatch the book into one hand without causing havoc.

One tiny hop and his feet are back on the floor and his eyes locked onto the worn, soft leather of his old spellbook.

He steps backwards, ready to head back into the main room and muses, “My notes from my apprenticeship at the coven. There should be a— Goro!”

Goro, who is sitting calmly in the doorway as if he didn’t hear a single warning of Ren’s, simply cocks his head to the side, his ears flopping with the motion.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay there? I was coming back.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t ‘hmph’ me! Now give your leg a break, please.”

Goro doesn’t react beyond the quiet swish-swish of his tail as Ren squeezes past him into the main room. The book’s spine opens with a soft groan as he plops down on his rocking chair and flips through the pages.

Just as he predicted, Goro is right on his heels, no amount of warnings or commands ever being enough to halt his iron will.

Ren sighs. “God, you’re so stubborn,” he mutters.

Goro hobbles to his side and falls onto his bed in the way he’s practiced and honed to not damage his leg.

With a gentle kick off the floor, the chair softly rocks back and forth as Ren skims over the notes from years ago. As he reads, a tightness forms in his chest and a choking feeling in his throat. He can picture the very quill Yusuke lent him that penned the frantic notes as he watched his senpais and senseis work their magic. He can no longer remember if it was Ryuji or Futaba who doodled nonsensical symbols on the pages’ margins. As if she was here, he hears Makoto’s sharp voice reminding them to pay attention, although the undercurrent of affection was as clear as her annoyance.

His eyes browse the pages, but he absorbs nothing, his mind flooded not with the notes and spells he seeks, but the burden of memories of a time already come and gone.

“Hrr?”

A soft whine yanks Ren from the rabbithole of his own memories, all of a sudden. From where he was back in the sleepy sunlight of the coven’s workshop, surrounded by the heavy scent of lavender and sage, he returns to the plush blankets of his chair and the dancing warmth of the fireplace in front of him.

The lump in his throat doesn’t budge even after he swallows and tries to clear it, and neither does the burning pricks of tears behind his eyes as he blinks down at his companion.

Goro huffs again as they make eye contact. Auburn and brown and garnet meld together into a blur and Ren has to look away to dab at his eyes with the corner of a blanket.

“Sorry,” he croaks. “I haven’t read any of my notes since I…left.”

He lets out a shaky, humorless laugh. “Guess I should’ve expected it to… bring stuff back up, huh?”

Again, Goro tilts his head, as if he understands, as if he’s prying into the thorny weeds of Ren’s past.

His tears momentarily halt as a sudden jerk jolts him and the rocking chairs still. Looking down, his vision is almost completely obscured by large tufts of brown fur that are so close they tickle his nose.

Ren smiles as the lump in his throat is only further complicated by the rumble of laughter rising through his chest.

“Goro, hey!” he laughs.

Goro’s massive head is now pressed into his book, as if he is actually reading it, and his two front paws steady him on the chair as he keeps himself up, although that means he’s also precariously balanced on just one leg on the floor.

“What, you wanna read?” Ren tilts the book to give Goro a better look. “It’s not much you can understand, I think.”

“Hmph.”

“Guess that won’t stop you from trying, huh?” And indeed, Goro continues to peer at the handwritten pages, completely uncaring for the way he’s completely disrupting what Ren was doing.

Although, Ren thinks as he blinks the rest of his tears away, perhaps that’s for the best.

The distraction from his heartbroken nostalgia certainly helps.

Yet, as Ren raises a hand to slowly and gently glide over the top of Goro’s rough fur, as Goro huffs at him do nothing to stop it, the bubbles of the words he’s kept inside for so long rise to the surface and burst.

“These notes are from when I was with my coven, back in Edo. They took me in after I first arrived from my hometown. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing in such a big city, but they gave me a home, a purpose.”

For a moment, the world around him blurs before it’s lost to the images and memories in his mind. Lightning fast images flash before his eyes: a plan gone horribly, horribly wrong; the screams of his friends as his spell backfires and an explosion of light burns through the palace room; the barks and snarls of the angry royal guards as the king falls dead, as they turn and point their lethally sharp swords at his friends—

The weight of Goro on his lap shifts and moves to crush his thighbone, the pain rooting Ren back to his body in his chair and the large furry body obscuring his vision.

He takes a shuddering, gasping breath.

“But,” he chokes out, “but that doesn’t matter anymore.” Burying his hand into that fluffy yet coarse fur, Ren blinks away his tears. “They’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

Sniff sniff.

Ren whips his head to the side where Goro’s snout is still buried into his book. The moment his eyes fall on him, Goro turns, and faster than Ren can react, he’s surging forward and his large wet tongue rakes across Ren’s face.

“Sppplt—! Goro!” Ren sputters as he wipes his damp face. “I know that’s probably very sweet in doggy world, but…”

A jolt of pain brings Ren’s attention back to the book in his hand, and the way his grasp has locked up and tightened around it.

“My notes,” he breathes out a heavy sigh. “Right, my notes. Let’s see what I can do for you, okay?”

Silver light illuminates the glade, pouring over every surface and inch of life below it. Its bright shine morphs Goro’s auburn and honey brown fur into a light grey and in his eyes, a bright reflection of the very moon he stares up at.

Ren follows his gaze to the apex of the sky, to the shining lady of the earth, the younger sister of the sun.

“Waxing gibbous.” The calm silence of the night shatters from Ren’s remark. He takes the few steps to bring himself right beside Goro, who still has his eyes locked upwards.

“She’ll be full soon. I’m sure her power will help me do something about your leg.

“Hmph.”

Ren turns to face him and takes in the faintest notch that has appeared between his eyebrows. “What, you don’t believe me? I know what I’m doing.”

At last, Goro breaks his eye contact with the moon to meet his eyes. Again, that odd sensation washes over Ren, a nagging feeling in the back of his head as he stares back into Goro’s soulful eyes. There’s just something there that he can’t place. Almost like sorrow or regret, too human and intense than what he’d ever expect from a wolf.

Shaking off his thoughts and goosebumps, Ren shrugs and smiles. “You are a wolf, right? Don’t you guys just love the full moon? Ooh, ooh, are you gonna howl?”

That something vanishes as Goro’s face falls, meeting Ren with an impressively human look of annoyance.

“You know, just a little awooo?”

And at that, Goro’s ears pin flat against his skull before he loudly huffs and limps back towards the cottage.

Ren struggles to get his words out between his laughs. “Aww, you didn’t like my impression? It was pretty good right? Awooo!”

Goro sits back on his haunches before the front door, and while his back is to Ren and his ears still pinned back, the swish-swish of his tail sweeping across the ground is loud in the quiet night.

Dusk settles in like a comforting blanket over the glade, wrapping each and every breath of life in swaths of soft oranges, dusty pinks, and vibrant lavenders.

The first summer sunset of the year, Ren thinks.

Minutes pass and soon the softest purple hues in the sky grow to encompass the warm oranges and pinks until a dark indigo paints the glade and forest in the darkness of night.

The darkness doesn’t last for long though—not when the shining brilliance of the full moon breaches past the tall mountains on the horizon, her silver light bathing everything it touches in an ethereal, almost sparkling glow.

Ren watches as she begins her journey across the cloudless sky. Only a few more hours and she’ll be at her peak—when her magic and therefore Ren’s is at their strongest. Just a few more hours and maybe he can finally heal Goro’s leg for good.

As if his very presence in Ren’s thoughts is enough to summon him, a sharp bark rings out into the otherwise quiet night, although it’s somewhat muffled by the cottage walls he’s encased in.

Ren purses his lips at the sound, and then at the barks that follow… and then at the clawing at the door which is topped off by only the most pathetic of doggy whines.

He stands, brushing the remaining dirt from his skirt and abandons the glowing runes he’d drawn on the ground hours ago. The night of a full moon is a time of great power, but that power can be harnessed by anything. Much like the unpredictability of the spirits heralded by storms, a full moon is a time of great danger.

Thus, Ren cast a protective spell that morning, same as he does every month. It’s a simple barrier that surrounds the glade like a faintly shimmering dome, but it’s always proven to be enough of a safeguard.

And with how Goro was acting earlier, there are no precautions he can afford to skip.

He’d awoken that morning to Goro gone from his bed again, but this time the door was wide open and swaying on its hinges. His dagger was in his hand before he knew it,his free hand charging up a spell. Cautiously, he stalked around the small cottage and, only after finding it blissfully empty of intruders, did he move on to investigate the outside.

Of course, all he found was a panting Goro who limped along on only two legs, practically crawling towards the forest. It took some time and some of Ren’s precious energy to wrangle him back inside and treat the paw he strained—probably by doing whatever it was he did to get the door open.

Now, the main trouble is keeping Goro in. Ever since Goro first proved to him weeks ago that he wasn’t going to immediately run off into the woods and get himself killed, Ren usually does nothing but encourage him to come out into the sunshine and fresh air. It isn’t good for either of them to be cooped up inside all day.

But since this morning, Goro keeps trying his very best to escape and nearly succeeding a few times as he learned he could use his size and weight to body check Ren out of the way.

The protection spell does give him peace of mind though—even if Goro were to escape, there’s hardly anything he can do against the shield. It’ll at least keep him safe, even if Ren is trying to keep him inside so he can rest his newly sprained paw.

It… Ren doesn’t want to think that it hurts his feelings, as that’d just be ridiculous. Goro is but a wild animal, who’s already been cooped up for weeks, of course he’s itching to get out and be free. Ren has to remind himself of this with every whine and solemn bark that unfortunately graces his ears.

Ignoring the sting of rejection and loneliness, he shifts his focus to more productive thoughts as he walks back to the cottage. He’s already checked the runes for the protection spell to ensure they’re still going strong as the moon is nearing her apex; he knows he has the materials for the healing spell he plans to cast on Goro. He should be good to go, but not needing to plan anything means his brain is empty for rumination.

Goro’s behavior is understandable for an animal, even one as injured as he is, but that doesn’t explain how suddenly it came on. It’s only been the past few days that he’s started to get more and more antsy, but this…

Ren shakes his head as if he could clear it of his thoughts. He approaches the cottage door and his hand reaches out for the knob. Already, he can hear Goro’s high pitched whines.

He’s an animal, he reminds himself for the millionth time, don’t read so much into it.

As he turns the knob and the door opens just a few centimeters, it’s suddenly shoved open wider and a furry snout shoves itself in the gap.

“Arf arf!” Goro’s whines morph into barks as he snaps at what little of Ren he can reach. It takes all of Ren’s strength to not let himself be overpowered and run over by the wolf.

“Goro, back it up! Back it up!”

“Arf!”

“No, you can’t go out right now, we’ve already discussed this. Now, please let me in—“

Ren manages to shove Goro back and himself through the door, but not without feeling a sudden tug on his skirt. His eyes dart down to see the dark fabric held taut in Goro’s teeth as he yanks it back.

Riiiiip!

“Goro!”

The skirt tears and just as he’s scolding him, Goro slams his shoulder and side into Ren, sending him falling towards the floor.

“What’s gotten into you?!”

His question answers itself as Goro tries—and fails—to balance on his two uninjured legs to reach the door’s latches. Ren shoots out a hand and summons ivy to sprout out from the ground and grow in a thick crisscross pattern over the door. The growth and movement of the plants shoves Goro off the door and back onto the floor.

“Arf!”

“I told you,” Ren manages to get up despite the aches that are blossoming where his leg and hip hit the ground, “we’re staying in tonight.”

Summoning the ivy over the door was far from Ren’s first choice, not when he’s already maintaining the shield spell and has to perform one of his biggest healing spells yet. Ideally, he should be conserving as much energy as possible, but Goro is so much more stubborn than Ren gives him credit for.

Wrangling Goro becomes all Ren can think about as he just won’t stop trying to escape. He tries clawing and biting through the vines blocking the door, he tries to break through the glass panes of the sunroom, he yowls and whines so loudly at the door that Ren’s ears feel like they’re splitting.

“Goro, stop!” Ren begs. Goro glances at him for a moment before returning his stare to the front door. “You peed this morning, and I know you can hold it. You don’t need to go outside.”

With a quick glance over his shoulder, Ren searches for the sun in the sky through the windows. He sighs. “The sun will be setting soon—you can’t go out. I’ll slip out for a few minutes to grab some moon water and moon petals, but I’ll come right back. Even I shouldn’t be out there for too long. Until then, we’re staying in.”

A blissful silence absent from ear splitting whines settles between them. For a few eerie minutes, Goro doesn’t move a muscle, his body trained forward and his eyes locked on the front door.

I wonder what’s going on with him…?

Animals have been known to act strangely in reaction to the quickly shifting energies the full moon brings. It would make sense for Goro to be affected too, even without how antsy he must feel from being incapacitated for weeks. As a life growing up in the countryside has taught Ren: It’s a simple solution, so it’s the most likely.

That’s what he repeatedly tells himself as he goes about the rest of his evening, although it does nothing for the shivers down his spine he gets whenever his eyes land on Goro and his unmoving figure in front of the door.

 ~~~

Ren’s energy leaves him faster than he can keep up. Not only is the maintenance of the protection shield draining him more and more each minute, but Goro just won’t stop.

Something is wrong with his friend; the moment the sun fully sets and night is upon them, his craziness from early returns with an almost renewed fervor. Every other second, he’s howling, then hopping back and forth to block Ren’s path, then scratching and hurling his body against the door. Nothing in Ren’s sizable arsenal of tricks even remotely work to calm him.

The last thing he needs right now is to use more magic and energy trying to wrangle Goro, but even his most intensive attempt—concocting a calming potion and forcing it down Goro’s throat—does little for his squirming, howling friend.

His best chance would be downright putting him to sleep like the first night he found him, but between the protective shield and the healing spell he still wants to attempt, he’d have little to no energy left to spend.

So instead, he changes tactics.

With as much speed and stealth as he can muster, Ren retracts the vines blocking the front door, slips out, and immediately grows them back.

Thud!

On the other side, shivering with a chill despite the cloak wrapped around his shoulders, Ren watches as the door shudders against the door frame from a heavy impact. The sound is immediately followed by the grating rake of nails digging into the wood and iron and one of the angriest, most primal barks he’s ever heard Goro make.

“I’m sorry,” Ren whispers mostly to himself as he backs away from the commotion inside. “But maybe you’ll be a bit calmer when I get back. Try to calm down for me, please?”

~~~

As Ren crouches by the creek, picking at the little silver flowers sprouting up out of the grass, the glade is quiet, but his thoughts are loud.

There must be something going on with Goro, he just doesn’t know what. As easy as it would be to just blame it on the full moon and its cascading effects, it doesn’t resonate in Ren’s gut as wholly true. He’s sure it must be part of it—he’s never known a creature who was unaffected by the lunar cycle and the potent magic it fosters—but surely there must be more to it. Throughout all his life, wolves and the full moon have always been paired together, but he can’t imagine this is the reaction all the thousands of wolves in the forest have each month.

Maybe that’s it, he thinks. Maybe he needs to be outside, to be in its presence and see it. His instincts might be screaming at him to find it.

It makes enough sense, but still, Ren’s gut tells him there’s more to it. His gut and instincts is all that’s let him survive up to this point—he’d be remiss to ignore it now.

A loud crash shatters the serene silence and Ren’s spiral of thoughts alike. The flowers fall from his hands as Ren whips his head towards the sound in the direction of the cottage.

“Goro?”

Before the word has even fully left his lips, he’s sprinting for the cottage. Something is wrong—it has to be for a sound like that to happen so suddenly. Perhaps his shield failed and something snuck its way inside and is now attacking his vulnerable friend. Perhaps they’ve finally caught up to him—the guards and foot soldiers who chased him out of Edo in the first place.

The possibilities and worries swarm and overwhelm his mind as his feet slam into the ground and send tremors up his legs with every step.

He rounds the corner of the cottage—dagger in one hand and a crackling spell of electricity in the other—when the sight that greets him steals the very breath from his lungs.

Crouched low on the ground and unmoving, surrounded by shards of bloodied broken glass, is Goro. Each strand of his rich auburn fur is standing straight up as his back arches and tremors wrack up and down his frame. His limbs scrabble for purchase on the ground, but whatever is convulsing him sends him crashing back down each time.

The instinct to run to his side—to help, to cure, to do anything besides watch idly as his friend huffs and whimpers in pain—jumps out from Ren’s heart and nearly jolts his body into action, but then he sees it.

Surrounding Goro is a shimmering aura that pulses with each tremor and shake of his body. Despite the few meters still stretching between them, its energy reaches Ren and he’s hit with a sudden of thoughts and feelings that are not his own.

Prey. Hunt. Kill.

Its malevolence seeps into his bones, making him see red for a moment before he returns to himself, his hands shaking as they maintain their defensive stance.

Never in his whole life has he encountered such a strong, primal energy before. It feels as though the most basal instincts wired into every living being was compressed into a single spell and inflicted on his poor friend.

His Goro.

It’s that thought that gets him moving, gets his feet slowly shuffling towards Goro, despite his every instinct practically screaming at him to get away, to run. Something is different about Goro, even just looking at him replaces Ren’s internal image of the wild but ultimately friendly wolf with a beast that makes him feel like little less than prey.

But what good has avoiding danger ever done for Ren?

“Goro?” he calls out.

The wolf whips his twitching head at him, his normally dark red eyes now shining with a bright and deadly crimson.

Ren swallows. The hand grasping his dagger is clammy. “Goro, what’s going on?”

Goro only bears his teeth and growls in response. Ren takes a step back, but only one.

“I want to help you,” he continues, and it’s a constant fight to stand his ground against his own instincts to run and hide, “but I’ll need to get close first, okay? We’ve done this before, haven’t w—?”

Red. The brightest, angriest red Ren’s ever since lights up the night with Goro at its epicenter. As if it is the sun, it burns to look at especially in how it eclipses everything else, everything the eye can see is red now, and yet Ren squints through the pain and watches in disbelief at the crimson bathed sight before him.

The same howl of pain that set Ren off to find him all those nights ago pierces the night—a scream of agony and profound sorrow so intense that it hurts more than the burning light.

And then Goro changes. All of him stretches and elongates far past a wolf’s proportions — his limbs too long and then too wide as the muscles expand. His paws grow until they’re mostly claws. The loud cracks and snaps of his spine’s vertebrae ring out in the night as his back stretches and neck morphs until he’s suddenly bipedal.

The beast towers over Ren, nearly by a whole meter. For a lighting strike of a second, it affixes its gaze on him, with all the rage and hunger in the world burning in his still glowing eyes.

Ren curls his hand around the spell he’s prepared, ready to lash out with it at a second’s notice.

But then, the red fades away to nothing, leaving as soon as it came. Even through the dark spots now appearing in Ren’s vision, he sees the beast arch his back and tilt his head up, as if an invisible tether pulls him towards the sky above.

In the quiet night, his inhale is deafening, and then Ren’s ears split wide open under the onslaught of the loudest howl he’s ever heard, one that rattles him down to his bones.

In the stillness that follows, as the shock of everything that just transpired begins to wane, Ren’s brain races to catch up.

Goro is… he transformed. The large and undoubtedly deadly but soft and fluffy animal Ren’s gotten so accustomed to—that he’s loved, even—is gone. In its wake is a creature who echoes the canine appearance of his friend in its rich auburn fur, pointy ears, and garnet eyes, but whose bipedal form speaks to something almost resembling humanoid.

Ren’s mind reaches back to the past, grasping at the knowledge he has of various creatures, desperately searching for a match. A word jumps out to him from the recesses of his memory: werewolf.

Even as a child, he heard stories about them: feral and dangerous people who reside in the woods and who transform into beasts under the power of the full moon. For years, Ren thought they were only tall tales—much like the many other supernatural creatures all children were warned about—just an easy way to keep children in line and not out wandering in the forest. It was quite the rude awakening when he left for the city and under the education of the coven, learned that much of what he was taught as a child were real. 

As Ren stares with wide eyes at the towering form before him, he sees it: How it matches perfectly with the drawings in his books, how the torso is humanoid but the legs bent like a canine’s.

Goro… So all this time, he’s really been… a person? He’s never heard of werewolves having a purely wolf form, but it’s hardly out of the realm of possibility. Moments from the past few weeks flash before his eyes: every time Goro so eerily and uncannily seemed to understand Ren’s words despite that seeming impossible, all the little things that Ren shrugged off so easily, all the clues that now spell out how ridiculous it is that he didn’t figure it out sooner.

Goro’s head turns to him, meeting his eyes and giving Ren an all-too clear view of the glowing red emanating from his eyes. Trembling, Ren takes a step back, the magic of his spell still readied in his hand burning a bright silver.

Every primal instinct in his body is screaming at him to run, or fight, or play dead, or do something. But he has no idea what to do. He curses his past self for not paying better attention to what to do if faced with the creatures he studied, but he never thought he’d actually run into any of them in the city.

In his moment of indecision, Goro moves, his whole body swaying for a second before righting himself. As he does, his left leg buckles beneath him, and he barely stops himself from careening straight to the ground.

His leg! Ren thinks. It’s that thought that fully cements the truth in his mind: this creature is still the very same Goro he’s come to know and love. That’s still his friend.

Like the very fool he’s been accused of being his whole life, Ren jerks forward without thinking.

“Goro, you shouldn’t be—”

Ren only gets a second to see Goro’s head turn towards him, eyes glowing red with rage, before the searing pain of his flesh being torn asunder halts his very being where he stands.

Instinctively, the spell shoots out of Ren’s hand and electricity arcs up and into Goro’s chest, making contact with a harsh zap!

He roars in pain at the same time Ren gasps and his hands fly to his stomach, where the pain is frying all his senses and the sticky warmth of his own blood comes pouring out.

Ren has no time to even think about defending himself before Goro’s massive arm rears back and his claws bury into his abdomen once more, this time ripping a scream from Ren’s throat.

Goro stays there for a moment, his body still jerking with the remnants of electricity coursing through it, and his eyes a haze of crimson bestial rage.

Ren coughs and desperately holds back his concern about the speckle of blood he coughs up. He has to stay calm, has to keep his wits about him. Everything is happening so fast, and he’s only beginning to catch up, and maybe this will prove to be a truly fatal mistake, but he thinks back to the past month, to all the days he’s spent with Goro at his side, all the nights that were finally not spent alone, and he clings to the hope and possibility that his friend is buried somewhere within the beast with claws in his stomach.

“Goro,” he chokes out, ignoring the taste of blood in his throat and mouth, “Goro, it’s me. I know you don’t want to hurt me.”

His vision blurs with the onslaught of tears and adrenaline pumping through his blood and out of his wound.

Goro freezes. Even through the tears, Ren can see his glowing red eyes widen, staring at him.

Ren’s hand itches for a spell, and he nearly gives in, but he waits. Something is churning behind Goro’s eyes, a clear movement of the gears in his brain evident in the near lucidity that rapidly returns to his irises. If Ren attacks now, he could start the fight all over again, but it is all too clear to him who would be the victor.

“Goro,” he tries, although his voice shakes more than the leaves in the brisk breeze, “I… I don’t really know what’s happened to you, or what you can even understand, but… it’s me, Ren. You’re still my friend, please remember that.”

The feeling in his feet is beginning to wane and his hands are drowning in his own blood. Distantly, he imbues his hands with the preparation for a healing spell, but doesn’t dare risk ruining this moment.

Slowly, almost methodically, Goro’s head lowers and he stares at the gaping wound in Ren’s stomach before lifting up to meet his eyes again.

“Goro,” Ren chokes out. “Please.”

Despite them not being visible amongst his fur, the places where Goro’s eyebrows should be furrow for a moment before his eyes clear completely, the red haze disappearing. He blinks. Then blinks down at his claw covered in blood, then gapes in what Ren can only assume is horror at his wound.

His jaw moves, and through the delirium of losing so much blood, Ren swears he hears a low, gruff voice murmuring, “Oh nonono… No!”

Unsure if he can wait anymore, Ren casts the healing spell on himself. He gasps in pain as he feels his tissue begin to knit itself back together, but a spell born solely of his own power isn’t even enough to stop the bleeding.

When the spell finishes, Ren finds himself on the ground, having fallen to his knees without realizing it. The dark spots in his vision are no longer growing, but they aren’t getting any better.

Shit, he needs to get inside to his workshop and gather the ingredients for a proper—

Ren’s vision is suddenly filled with the stars and constellations above, his back flat on the ground.

Oh shit, he helpfully thinks.

The last thing Ren sees before the darkness consumes him is the giant bestial head of Goro staring down at him with wide, terrified eyes and hands dripping with blood.

Chapter Text

As Ren comes to, he’s greeted by the hanging ivy and tall shelves of his workshop. He pauses, feeling almost like an amnesiac trying to remember how he got here.

Feeling begins to return to his body, but with it comes a sharp stab of pain in his abdomen.

“Shit—!” Ren bites out before he can think better of remaining as quiet as possible. His hands fly to his stomach at the same time his head snaps down to survey the damage.

Hardened and dried blood greets his fingertips as he lightly traces the deep cut. It’s stopped bleeding—thank the gods—but he’s far from safe with such an intensive wound. The yarrow and flakes of ginger pressed in obscures the bulk of the damage, but the stabbing pain is indication enough of how serious an injury he sustained.

What’s even worse is the way he doesn’t remember placing the herbs on himself—for such a grave injury, it’d be far from his first choice for treatment. And actually, how did he even get so hurt? It’s a deep gash—one that doesn’t come from an ordinary injury.

Before his mind can even begin to reach back through the synapses holding the memories of what happened, the earth beneath him shakes with a subtle rumble that he feels in his tailbone and that shoots electricity up his spine. It happens again, and then in quick succession, and Ren’s mind produces the single thought: footsteps before they arrive right in front of him.

His head swivels towards the sound, his gaze looking onto the doorway—with the door itself absent, where did it go?—as a figure steps through.

The pair of fluffy brown ears that brush against the top of the frame are familiar to Ren, but what lies below them is anything but.

Ren’s eyes trail down to the long chestnut brown hair that brushes against muscular shoulders and frames a square, strong jaw. The very same soulful garnet eyes Ren gazed into so many times stare down at him now with little emotion rising to the surface.

“Goro…?” If his furry companion could become a wolf-like beast in front of his very eyes, then sure, why couldn’t he be a human too? At least the werewolf to human transition is more familiar to Ren’s knowledge, so what the hell, maybe he can do all three. Who knows? Ren is so, so confused.

His eyes can’t help but continue to drink in the sight before him: absolutely chiseled abs and a body clearly conditioned for a life of combat, an entire life’s history of victories and losses painted by the deep and long scars creating valleys and canyons out of his freckled skin.

And then, below that—

“Gah?!” Despite the pain still burning in his core, Ren’s instincts act faster than he can stop them as his hands fly in front of his face to hide Goro’s lower half. “Why are you naked?!”

“Wh—?!” From what Ren can see of his face, Goro appears flabbergasted. “Why am I naked? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ren isn’t sure what he expected for Goro’s voice, but what he actually hears is a pleasant surprise: a gruff and husky voice that perfectly matches his wild appearance.

Still, Ren can’t allow himself to be distracted, not by the handsome voice in his ears or by the furious blush he feels burning in his cheeks. “Because you just have all your parts hanging out! Do you see me with my chest or ass out?”

“Hmph,” Goro grunts. Ren barely stops himself from chuckling at how similar the sound is to when he’d grunt as a wolf. “I’ll grab something then.”

He turns to leave, giving Ren a perfect view of the fluffy tail sprouting from his tailbone and swishing behind him.

“You have a tail too?!” he exclaims before he can think better of it.

Goro’s voice comes to him muffled as he speaks from the next room. “Tails are instrumental to communication. Frankly, I don’t know how you even manage without one.”

Ren isn’t fully listening, too lost in thought about how his tail looks just as fluffy and soft as his ears.

I want to pet them. It would be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but I want to so badly.

Goro’s return with one of his blankets fisted over his groin sobers Ren’s thoughts.

“Is this good enough for you?”

“That’s…” How is he supposed to take him seriously like that?

Although, everything in the past 24 hours has been nothing but a mind-fuck. Ren can manage the sheer absurdity at Goro’s (his wolf-werewolf-human friend?) attempt at modesty.

“That’ll do,” he finishes. “Here, let me—”

Foolishly and without thinking, Ren attempts to stand up, only for a stab of pain in his abdomen to send him crashing back down with a groan.

“Uh—” Shame and embarrassment builds in his chest as he looks up at Goro. “Could you help move me to my chair? So we can talk about… uh, everything, I guess?”

~~~

The move from the sunroom to the living room is a hell of a lot more awkward for Ren than for Goro. Or, at least, Ren assumes.

Even after he’s been placed surprisingly gently onto his rocking chair and nestled in as cozily as possible with his injury, his cheeks still burn with a mean ferocity. It’s equally ridiculous and humiliating to get so flustered, but really what choice does he have? Goro scooped him up off the floor like he was as heavy as a paperweight and carried him to the chair without even breaking a sweat. It shouldn’t be as surprising as it is—Ren can literally see his muscles and the years of surviving and strength that built them. What is a surprise is how quickly Ren’s mind switched from seeing Goro as an animal to being stunned by his physique and beauty.

Focus, Ren. This is still your friend.

Once Ren is settled and no longer wincing in pain, Goro fetches the blanket he dropped while carrying him and reassumes his modesty as he sits down in his bed. His eyes never leave Ren’s for a moment, and it all feels so achingly familiar while also being anything but.

Ren clears his throat, preparing himself for the awkward conversation ahead of them. “So. You’re… a werewolf?”

“I am.”

“So… you’ve been a person… this whole time?”

Please say no. Please say no.

His silent begging is met by an indifferent universe as Goro shrugs with one shoulder. “Basically, yes.”

Ren drops his head into his hands, ignoring how the sudden movement makes his stomach twinge with pain. He can feel just how scarlet his face must be, the heat almost radiating into the palms pressed against his cheeks.

“Oh my gods,” he groans.

Images flash through his mind despite his meager attempts at blocking them out. Every time he disciplined Goro, every time he pet his fluffy head and called him a “good boy”. The times he bathed and dressed right in front of him.

This whole time he was going about his life like usual, not even thinking about his actions because he assumed his only company was an animal that couldn’t understand him. What a fool he’s turned out to be.

“I just thought you were a dog,” he mumbles miserably. “I’m so sorry.”

Swish swish swish.

The now all-too familiar sound breaks Ren out of his self-pity spiral as he lifts his head out of his hands.

It’s no surprise to see Goro’s tail sweeping across the floor behind him, but Ren does jolt a bit at the pair of garnet eyes intensely staring back at him.

“It’s not as if you knew any better,” Goro says, and god, Ren cannot get enough of the sound of his voice. “And it’s not like I could tell you either.”

Setting his embarrassment aside, a million questions crowd Ren’s brain now that he actually can get answers from his mysterious companion.

“Why were you like that?” is what he starts with. “A wolf, I mean. Aren’t you… I didn’t think werewolves could turn into actual wolves, just—” He gestures vaguely at Goro’s form.

Goro’s ears twitch a bit and a small scowl pulls at his lips, making the fang popping out even more prominent.

“Non lycanthropes tend to misunderstand a lot of things,” he flatly answers. “Where did you learn about werewolves, anyways? You seem to know a great deal more about us than the usual beasts in the night?”

“My coven. We learned all about different kinds of m—” He catches the word monsters before it leaves his lips, immediately realizing how profoundly insensitive it would be. “Mmmagical creatures. It was useful for the study of magic in general.”

If Goro caught onto his slip, he doesn’t show it.

“I see.” Fascinatingly, his ears droop down just a bit as he speaks. “Well, your information clearly wasn’t complete. Werewolves have three forms: the wolf, the werewolf, and the human. Congratulations on being the first person to see all three of mine and still be standing.”

Goro’s eyes betray nothing but his intensity.

Ren knows he should be feeling intimidated, especially as sun beams stream through the broken window and perfectly accentuate the bulk and sheer size of Goro’s muscles.

Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “Was that supposed to be a threat? Because I still remember how much you love chasing sticks. You’ll have to do better than that to scare me.”

Goro’s ears perk straight up at the same time his tail does the same. Then, he relaxes with a simple, “Hmph.”

Ren has to bite back a smile at the sound. He really is the same being. Always grumbling and huffing.

Before the silence can drift on for too long, Ren fires off another question, his curiosity far from sated. “Alright, so you can transform into a wolf too. But why did you stay a wolf the whole time? At least could’ve changed into what you are now, right?”

Swish swish swish.

Goro tilts his head a notch as he considers the question. “I didn’t have much of a choice. When you first found me, I was too weak to transform. I only fully regained my strength not too long ago, and by that time I had already been a wolf to you for weeks. Given I didn’t plan on sticking around much longer, there was no reason to complicate things.”

The last part catches Ren off guard, and he sends him a startled look.

“Hold on, what do you mean?”

He heavily sighs, as if the weight of the world balances on his broad shoulders. “It was never my intention to let you know what I truly am. Revealing myself is basically suicide with how… eager people are to hunt us. They want us gone—eradicated completely. You learn to keep things close to your chest if you do have to interact with the ‘civilized’ places.”

That Ren can fully understand. For a moment, he hears the shouts of guards and the trample of heavy footsteps behind him–feels the pounding in his heart as he runs after taking down another soldier with an ice bolt.

He blinks, and he’s back in the cottage, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest and the sound of a large tail wagging across the floor.

“I—” his voice cracks on his first attempt at speaking. “I can understand that.” Looking up, Ren meets Goro’s eyes. “More than you might realize.”

Goro’s one exposed fang glints with a reflection of the daylight pouring in as he nods. “Then you know why I was a wolf. The plan was always for me to leave before the full moon. That way, I’d have enough time to heal and also to repay my debts to you without compromising myself by transforming in front of you.” He frowns and his ears pin back, almost flat against his head. “Obviously that didn’t work. You were just so damn insistent.”

Purposefully ignoring how damn cute he is with his ears pinned back and a hint of the ‘sad puppy dog eyes’ Ren adores on Goro’s face, a piece of what he said stands out amongst the rest.

“’Repay your debts’? What are you talking about?”

Goro’s ears flop back up as his face transforms into the epitome of ‘are you stupid?’. “You saved me from a fatal injury. I am well aware I am a wild man, but that does not mean I have no honor or respect. As annoying as it is that you kept me alive despite me fully accepting my death at that point,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, “It is simply my personal principle that I repay my debts.”

“I see.” Ren begins swinging his feet back and forth as he ruminates over his words. “It really is not necessary, but I certainly won’t say no to the company. What is your plan now, then? I know your secret—hell, you know a few of mine too—but since I haven’t chased you down with a pitchfork or a torch, then… I mean, that was why you wanted to leave, right? You were worried about my reaction.”

A part of Ren feels like he’s being far, far too obvious. In all honesty, this bizarre development about his companion only makes him want Goro to stay even more. Especially since he can talk, they can have conversations, and even with the short amount he’s gotten to speak to him now, Goro is fun to talk to.

…and yes, him being absurdly handsome and ridiculously strong certainly helps, but mostly Ren just craves a conversation partner. A wholly platonic one.

Hell, it kind of needs to stay platonic, considering he was a dog less than a day ago. Would that make it weird? No, right? He’s still a person, he has the mind and consciousness of a person, so it’s not weird. Am I weird for thinking about it? I’m weird for thinking about it, aren’t I?

Goro’s heavy sigh brings Ren back from his small crisis.

“That was my biggest worry, yes. But to be honest, it would be irresponsible of me to leave you now in your current state.” His ears flatten once again and his bushy tail slightly curls between his legs. “Especially considering that I am the sole cause.”

Ren immediately perks up, sending another jolt of pain from his abdomen. “So you’re—ow, I really need to stop doing that. So you’re staying?” He can only hope the tightness of pain in his voice covers how overeager he must sound.

“If you’ll have me, yes. You watched over me until I healed; it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Several thoughts enter Ren’s mind at once. The first is: Hey, I’m not that injured. But the next is a burst of joy at the knowledge that Goro plans on staying. It says a lot, too, that Goro is so fixated on debts and evening the score. An odd thing for a wild man to care so deeply about, but that could very well just be Ren’s own biases clouding his vision.

“You can stay as long as you want,” he says. “Injuries aside, I can’t even begin to tell you how nice it is to have another person here. Morgana is great, don’t get me wrong, but he’s so in and out. Having you here has been great.”

Goro’s eyes flick to the side, almost as if he can’t bear to look at him. “First you invite a wild animal into your home and now a monster. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?”

Ren scoffs. “Of course I do. What do you think led me here in the first place?”

“Your decisions are still questionable.”

“You may think that, but they make perfect sense to me. You had every opportunity when you were a wolf to hurt me or eat me or whatever. And you didn’t.” Ren shrugs. “That says more than enough to me about who you are, regardless of who or what you are.”

Goro’s eyes flicker to Ren’s stomach and the bandages that cover it. “…you are a very confusing human. You know nothing about me.”

“I’d love to learn, you know.”

“Hmm.”

Silence settles between them, only barely broken by the crackle of the fireplace. The flames and the morning sunbeams streaming into the cottage reflect off Goro’s eyes, turning the usual garnet into a burning crimson. There’s something in his expression—in the tightness of his brow and jaw, in his scowl, the heavy droop of his ears, the depths of despair in his eyes—that strikes a bolt through Ren’s heart. He can still sense the remnants of the confident and mischievous wolf he first knew within him, but witnessing this new somber side of him hurts almost as much of Ren’s own sorrows.

Goro’s complicated expression vanishes the moment Ren clears his throat, every inch of his body language switching to alert within a second.

“And also,” Ren starts, having remembered something that really should’ve been more present in his mind this whole time. “I should really get you some pants.”

As if he also forgot, Goro glances down at the blanket still in his lap. “Oh, yes. Nudity isn’t very acceptable in your society.”

~~~

The journey to find Goro some clothes proves to be much harder than Ren initially thought. His slow pace and careful movement certainly don’t help as he basically upends his wardrobe looking for something. Goro follows him with an awkward hand holding the blanket in front of his groin and the rest of it relegated to dragging on the floor behind him. He stays mostly quiet as Ren tosses skirts and pants at him, only speaking to confirm that none of them fit as Ren has turned away to give him privacy.

Ren sighs. “Really? None of them?”

“None of them. Your waist is too tiny.”

“Dammit. I’ll have to make you something.”

Goro lets out a sound that is awfully close to the frustrated grunts of his wolf form. “That really isn’t necessary. I can make something out of the leaves outside—”

“Out of the leaves? Are you crazy? I have a way to make actual clothes here and you want leaves on your junk?”

“You made your clothes? I assumed you brought them from where you lived before.”

“Yes, I can. Also, are you decent? I’m getting tired of talking to the wall here and I’d like to sit down.”

He sighs. “Go sit down.”

Ren turns to see Goro and his blanketed lower half absolutely surrounded by Ren’s skirts and pants all strewn about the floor. Ignoring the mess, he climbs onto his bed and sighs in relief as he relaxes, the ever present pain in his stomach ebbing.

“Ahh, that’s better. But yes, I can. I’ll do it… in a second. First, that mess is going to bother me.”

With a wave of his hand, streams of soft silver leave Ren’s palm and fly through the air towards the clothes pile. Goro’s tail stops in its wagging and stands straight up, as does his ears. He quickly shuffles out of its way, his eyes locked onto the streams as they lift the clothes in the air and begin reorganizing them into the wardrobe.

“It’s just a bit of magic,” Ren soothes.

Goro’s shoulders and tail relax, although a pout forms on his face, all the more punctuated by the one fang still poking out from his lip. “I can see that. You just did it so suddenly.”

“A lot of magic is ‘sudden’. It’s just kind of the way it works. By the way, you said nudity isn’t acceptable in my society or whatever. Are you saying you never wear clothes?”

Goro’s eyes are still trained on the magically moving fabric as he speaks. “It’s a little counterproductive considering they’d never survive my transformations. I grew up wearing clothes, but I just don’t… now. It’s not necessary.”

“Hmm,” Ren leans his head back against his pillow, the soothing warmth almost lulling him to sleep. “Werewolves live in packs though, right? So the little ones wear clothes but not the adults? Do they not transform until a certain age or something?”

Maybe it’s rude to ask so many questions, but Ren can’t not be curious.

“…no. Werewolf children transform even as infants. No one wears clothes beyond leaving the den in the winter. It’s not seen as weird or sexual for us, unlike how you freaks think.”

Ren hums. “Hmm. That’s interesting. It makes sense, though. No use making clothes that’ll just get destroyed soon anyways.”

Internally, he thinks: Ah, so your upbringing was different somehow. I wonder why.

“Precisely. Are you going to nap?”

“…maybe. I only have one more healing spell in me, and I’d like to use it, so yeah, actually. Feel free to do whatever, I guess. Just please don’t mess with my workshop or leave the glade.”

“Tsk. You’re honestly giving me free reign?”

Already conjuring the healing spell into his palm and then setting them on his stomach, he replies, “I sure am.”

For a moment, Goro is still and silent before shaking his head, making his ears flop a little. “You are truly inconceivable… have a good rest, I suppose.”

When Ren awakes, the mid-afternoon sun warming his face and his stomach tingling as his skin knits itself back together, he feels a serenity that he once thought was forever lost on him.

Even before he fully registers what he’s hearing, he feels its effects: the calming reminder that he isn’t alone.

Swish swish swish.

It’s a bit muffled, as if having to travel through a wall to reach his ears. Carefully, so as to not disturb his wound, he slips out of bed, landing softly on his feet. With as light of steps as he dares to attempt, he slinks to one side of the open doorway and waits. After no sounds beyond the natural ambiance grace his ears, he peeks out to see the very tip of a fluffy tail poking out from behind the kitchen counters.

“Goro?” he calls out.

Immediately, the tail lifts out of sight. As if he was chasing after it, Ren hobbles out into the main room.

“…yes?”

Leaning a hand against the wall for balance as Ren goes, he comes into view of the front door, left wide open and with Goro sitting with criss-crossed legs in the threshold, his back to the rest of the cottage and tail held high and alert behind him. His head is turned towards Ren and the intensity of that garnet gaze falls onto Ren as Goro peers back at him. The moment they make eye contact, his tail relaxes into a slow wag.

“What… what are you doing?” Ren asks, not wanting to expend the brain energy required to guess what his odd friend is up to.

Goro rises to his feet and with his blanket nowhere in sight, Ren lets out a yelp and holds out his hands to once again cover the parts of his vision that he’s been trying not to think about.

“I really, really need to make you those pants.”

Goro sighs. As he talks, he walks over to his bed and retrieves his blanket. “If you’re going to act like this every time you see me then yes, please do. But to answer your question: I was making sure there wasn't anything or anyone who tried to get in while you were asleep.”

Ren slowly lowers his hands as he lets that sink in. “So you were… guarding me?”

Goro’s face does something funny—it flickers between upset and shock before settling on a slight scowl, his ears pinned back and almost getting lost in his fluffy hair. “You were asleep, vulnerable. It’s my fault the door is out of commission, so it only makes sense that I make up for that.”

“Oh right.” In the flurry of life threatening injuries and startling revelations about his friend, Ren managed to completely forget that the only two doors in the cottage—the front door and the one that separates the main room from his workshop—are off their hinges.

First, he needs to make Goro some pants, and now he has to fix the doors as well as still nurse himself back to help. A dull ache begins to form at Ren’s temples and behind his eyes. Gods, he’s going to be exhausted tonight.

“Yes, I’ll need to fix those. Let me just—the doors are more important than your pants, I’ll start on those fir—”

“If you work on the pants first so that I may be decent, I can help with the doors.”

Ren’s jaw snaps shut with a sharp click. “You know how to put them back on the hinges?”

Goro nods in one jerky motion, his ears flopping with the movement. “In fact, if you tell me where your tools are, I might be able to do it myself.”

Ah, that explains it.

“Tools? No, I don’t use tools.”

Goro stares at him as if he’s grown a second head, which considering the amount of surprises and frights he’s given Ren, feels like retribution.

“I use magic,” Ren starts to explain, “because I can just command the—Actually, why don’t I start on your clothes? I can explain while I work. Maybe it’d even give you an idea on how you can help.”

His help would be greatly appreciated; any amount of energy Ren can save for healing himself, the better. Ren does his best to convey that in his explanation while he simultaneously searches through his clothes for a suitable fabric. He finds one—an old forest green curtain he’d long since traded out for something brighter—just as he’s explaining the basics of arcane metallurgy to a Goro who is following surprisingly easily.

It doesn’t take much energy to summon the vines that grow around and contort the curtain into a pants-like shape, but it’s the conjuring of magical threads that sew up the fabric within the blink of an eye that truly taps a chunk of Ren’s strength away. The vines and excess fabric fall away, leaving a perfectly Goro sized pair of pants hovering in the air for a second before gravity takes over and they too hover towards the ground. Ren catches it in a only-slightly-trembling hand before they can, though, and unsheaths his dagger from his thigh.

Goro raises an eyebrow at him and Ren returns with a smirk as he raises the tip to the back of the pants.

“Well I have to make room for your tail, now don’t I?”

A small hint of pink dusts Goro’s cheeks—something that Ren wishes he could somehow collect and review for intricate study. “Oh, yes. You do.”

One easy incision and a quick threading of a button later and Ren presents the fabric to Goro with a bow, as if surrendering a blade to a king.

“One pair of pants for you, your highness. So that I may look upon you with dignity and grace.”

Goro scoffs and the weight of the fabric disappears from Ren’s hands. “Always so dramatic.”

Ren straightens up as he laughs. “You’re telling me that? Mr. Pathetic Doggy Whines?”

“I am not pathetic.”

“I never said you were.” Ren turns around to give him the privacy to change. “But your whines were.”

The all-too familiar sound of disgruntled grumbling graces Ren’s ears as he leans against the wall for stability. It brings a smile to his face, one that is only deepened at hearing the rustling of fabric and a few bitten back curses as he can only assume Goro is putting on the pants.

“There. Am I decent enough for you, now?”

Ren turns and— “Oh thank the gods. I can actually look at you now.”

Goro frowns where he’s stood with his arms crossed. “You humans are very dramatic.”

It’s a surprise just how well the pants fit; the dark fabric hugs Goro’s waist and legs without being too skintight, and shows no sign of sagging. Of course, his tail sticking out from the hole in the back surely helps.

“Will you be weird about my top as well?”

“Hmm?” Ren blinks, his reverie of staring at Goro having been interrupted. “Oh… no. I might have a big shirt that fits you if you want, but you don’t need one.”

For a few startling moments, Goro just stares at him, his eyes burning holes into Ren’s skull. His gaze drops and a bit deliriously, Ren swears Goro’s cheeks darken with a dusty pink as he stares at his chest. Right as Ren feels like he’s about to sweat, Goro breaks—his ears lay back into his hair as he looks away. “Right. I forgot you’re different. It’s been a while since I’ve been around humans.”

Automatically, Ren’s gaze goes down to his own chest and the corset bolstering it up. More importantly though, something Goro said prickles in the base of Ren’s skull. “Yeah, humans have odd standards. But you’ve been around them before?”

A flash of movement draws Ren’s eye to the tail now tucked between Goro’s legs.

“We still need to fix the doors. We’ll lose the daylight soon, you know.”

How bold of him to so blatantly ignore the question. It’s counterproductive to so obviously keep secrets from Ren—the mystique only serves to pique Ren’s curiosity.

He’ll let it go—for now. Especially with the fatigue from his wound and spellcasting rearing its ugly head in a sluggishness he can feel from his head to the soles of his feet. “Right. Before I pass out.”

Between the two of them, they make surprisingly quick work of fixing the doors. It’s leagues easier than the times Ren’s done it himself. Instead of having to summon plants or even holding up the heavy wood and iron door himself, he can focus on just commanding the metal of the hinges and the bolts while Goro keeps the door in place for him. Even just that little bit of metallurgy leaves Ren completely wiped energy-wise and the pair resign themselves to a dinner of fruit preserves.

Goro offers to go fishing for them—an offer made with his whole body leaning forward and his tail held high in eagerness—but Ren prefers to keep him close as he feels so near to nodding off at any second.

Dusk falls and Ren quickly bids him goodnight once they’ve both finished eating. He crawls into bed with his exhausted mind blissfully empty, and full of confidence that no harm will come to him tonight.

~~~

“How can you stand it?” Goro’s question comes out of nowhere. One moment, Ren is carefully crouched in the garden and tending to his vegetables; the next, he’s staring up at Goro—with his arms crossed and his tall stature blocking the sun from searing Ren alive.

“Stand what?” His question is as genuine as he means it, but something about that seems to piss Goro off as he switches his weight from one foot to the next restlessly.

“I nearly killed you less than a week ago—” As if the dull twinge of pain in Ren’s gut could ever let him forget. It’s nearly healed now; what was once a deep red gash has lightened to a faint mark and the pain is easily tolerable. Another week and Ren will be good as new.

Separate from Ren’s thoughts, Goro continues on. “—and yet it’s as if you’ve forgotten about it entirely.”

“What makes you think I’ve forgotten it?”

“The fact that I’m still here, in your home, among many others. When something tries to kill you, you don’t usually respond with hospitality.”

“Weren’t you worried about that very thing? That I’d attack you or hunt you down? I thought you were happy that I’m not. What changed?”

“I just don’t understand you. I could understand when I was but an oversized house dog to you, but this—” He raises and twists his wrist, letting his sharp claws glint under the harsh sunlight. The reflection nearly blinds Ren, but he blinks it away. “This is a weapon just waiting to bury itself in your gut. And it already has!”

No words of comfort or outrage comes to Ren. He just stares, his mind running itself ragged trying to keep up with this sudden outburst.

In his silence, Goro barrels ahead. “You host me in your home, you feed me, you let me join you on your little chores, you sleep soundly knowing that I’m just a room away. I won’t even get into how idiotic it was for you to risk your own life to save me in the first place; I’ve tried to kill you and yet you act as if I’m as threatening as your little cat friend!”

Ren rises, dusting the dirt off of his skirt and taking a few steps towards Goro. He lets him, despite Goro’s chest heaving with an anger Ren doesn’t know the source of and his tail flicking in sharp angles behind him.

Ren stops just before they’re chest to chest. He stares deep into Goro’s eyes and asks, “Do you believe them? That you’re a monster? Is that what this is about?”

With his whole face cast into shadow by the sun hidden behind Goro’s head, it’s harder to read his expression, but Ren sees as clear as day when his eyes go wide. The very tips of his ears twitch before facing starkly forward.

“Well, that’s—”

Ren stops him with as gentle of a hand on his shoulder as he can muster. The fabric of the loose tan shirt Ren found him is soft beneath his palm, and it keeps him steady as his next words come out. “Goro, I don’t know what you’ve been through or what others have told you. But I don’t care what anyone says—you’re my friend. You’ve had every opportunity for over a month now to do whatever you want to me. You could’ve killed me a million times over at this point. But you haven’t, have you?”

“I nearly did.” Goro’s words come out clipped and strangled, like it hurts to simply breathe them into existence.

“I know that. But you lost control once, during a time when you had less control overall. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I did. I don’t think you meant to hurt me, but you did.”

Even from his grip on his shoulder, Ren feels as Goro’s breath catches and his whole body goes taut.

“They were accidents, Goro,” Ren insists. “You healed me the best you could after, and you’ve been nothing but a huge help to me since. Why would I hold that against you?”

Goro’s face crinkles in on itself, all of his facial muscles pinching and his exposed fang digging into his lower lip until a drop of crimson emerges from the broken skin.

“You are… so, so incomprehensible to me.”

Ren laughs, a light and airy sound amidst the heaviness of their conversation. He takes a gamble and slides his hand up to rest on Goro’s neck. “Well, I do enjoy being incomprehensible. Keeps people on their toes.”

Goro looks away at that. “You certainly do.”

The bright sun behind him shines onto his fluffy ears until the fur itself appears glowing.

They look so soft…

Before he can think better of it, Ren’s arm is already reaching up and his hand brushing against ears that immediately flick away from his touch.

Ren jerks back at the same time Goro does. “I’m so sorry. They just—they look so soft, but still, I should’ve asked first before…” He trails off, suddenly captivated by the red hue quickly spreading across Goro’s face and neck.

He’s flustered, Ren realizes.

Goro lets out a soft huff as his eyes stay trained to the side. “Please don’t touch my ears. Or my tail, for that matter. They’re… sensitive.”

“Oh.” Ren considers that for a moment. Several thoughts and questions flood his mind at once, but he’s just as quick to brush them off. Goro is his friend, he shouldn’t be having such thoughts about him. His own guilt does nothing to stop him from cataloging the information for later.

~~~

A few days pass before Goro revives the conversation with another question. Even in the short time since the full moon and Goro’s subsequent transformation into his human form, Ren’s learned this is just something he does: he’ll suddenly break the comfortable silence between them or their idle chatter with a question.

“What happened in your past?”

The question comes so suddenly that Ren nearly drops the potion bottle he was pushing herbs into. He glances over his shoulder to Goro, who lounges against the open doorway with his arms crossed and his tail wagging lazily behind him.

“I told you some of it,” Ren responds once enough of the shock wears off.

“You did. But you talk as if you know what it’s like to be demonized. That only comes from personal experience. Not to mention the fact that you’re here, living off the beaten path where no human voluntarily goes, when you speak so fondly of your compatriots back from wherever you came from.”

His words leave Ren’s lungs feeling vacant and his chest unbearably tight. It shouldn’t be shocking—nothing Goro said wasn’t something Ren himself told him—but for someone to collect all the disparate pieces of his past and hand it back to him like a gift made from sharp glass shards…

Something else stirs within Ren’s chest. An intense relief and gratitude would all but pour out of him if not for him being shocked beyond the ability to speak. But Goro…

He listened. With all that Ren endlessly chattered at him, he truly listened and absorbed everything.

Ren can’t remember the last time he’s felt so understood and heard. It’s truly incredible.

“Ren?” Goro prompts.

Once he’s blinked the tears out of his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, Ren finds it within himself to properly respond. “Sorry, I just… it’s been so long since I’ve had someone to talk to, let alone someone to actually listen to me.”

The shaky grip on his potion bottle is becoming dangerous, and he sets it down on the work table with a heavy sigh.

Goro snorts. “I’ve had nothing to do but listen to you. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I know a lot of people wouldn’t.” With his hands on the table, Ren braces against it, the worn wood beneath his palms rooting him to the present. The last time he drowned in his memories was bad enough—at least now he has something of an anchor.

“I don’t know how much you know about humans, but from what you’ve said, it sounds like you’ve experienced how wary they are of anything non-human.”

Goro slowly nods, his still wagging tail hypnotizing and almost distracting.

Ren continues. “When I was a child, I randomly discovered one day that I could wield magic. There was no preamble, no changes to blame for it—it simply came upon me. I grew up in a little village by the beach and I was playing there like usual when I tripped over a piece of driftwood. The next thing I knew, I wasn’t falling like I expected, but rather the driftwood had suddenly grown to catch and hold me in place. At first, I didn’t even realize that I was the one to do it, even when all the fisherman who saw it insisted it was my doing. It was only after I was brought back to my parents and they confronted me about it did I realize I had gained abilities I didn’t have before. They were yelling at me, demanding to know how I did it, if I forged any bonds with the spirits or the fae that they were so afraid of—if I was a witch. They didn’t listen when I told them I had no idea what happened, and they just kept yelling and demanding, and… I don’t even really know what happened, it was just so quick.

“My mother was a gardener and we had lots of plants in the house. All I remember is that my stress was building and building and my anger and frustration just reached this tipping point where I screamed and within a blink of the eye, it was like all the plants exploded. They grew so quickly, so suddenly like they were taking over the house. Looking back, it was kind of incredible since I hadn’t meant to, obviously. After that, I was forbidden from ever using magic, but the damage was already done. Everyone in the village knew me as some unpredictable loose cannon just waiting to go off and kill them all, an evil witch child sent to torment them. My parents couldn’t handle how much I ruined their precious reputation. They went from being in everyone’s good graces to being the parents of a ‘cursed child’, they said.”

Finally, Ren takes a moment and breathes, swallows in an attempt to soothe his parched throat. Movement in the corner of his eye grabs a hold of him and his gaze follows a magnetic draw to Goro.

He remains still in his lean against the doorway, but something in the way his head tilts down and his ears lay flat into his hair feels like barbed wire wrapping around Ren’s heart.

“A ‘curse’, huh.” The gruff whisper is so soft Ren almost doesn’t hear it at first.

“Yeah… that’s what they called me.”

Goro’s jaw visibly tightens for a moment before his face relaxes back to something unreadable. “Continue. How’d you end up in a city, then?”

Ren nearly reaches out to inquire more, to ask what exactly ‘cursed’ seems to mean to Goro. The words rise up his throat and almost tumble out of his mouth, but he clamps his lips shut and files it all away for later. He’s gotten to know Goro’s body language enough by now to sense any questions aimed at Goro will go unanswered and only serve to create a wedge between them. Perhaps it’s hypocritical considering that Goro is prodding into Ren’s past, but Ren is nothing if not adaptable. He’ll work with what he’s got, and he will get his answers eventually when the time is right.

“Right,” he starts. “Well, I got sick of that life pretty quickly. All the stares and whispers wherever I went, even in my own home with my parents talking behind my back. All my life, the closest city—Edo—was constantly disparaged for all the ‘wild’ stuff that went on there. Supposedly, they’d let just about anyone live there and freely walk down its streets. ‘Even monsters’, they always said. So, my young, naive self thought, ‘Well surely they’ll love me there too, right?’

“I wasn’t completely wrong. There were definitely more types of people there than I’d ever seen before, even if just by volume. I even found other people like me, people who could use magic. That was the coven I told you about. I ran into a couple of witches on the street one day and before I knew it, I was being brought to their hideout and being accepted as one of them. It was… really nice to finally be understood, to not be feared. To have people rally behind me. I was even their de-facto leader at one point.

“I fucked up eventually, though. Despite what we always told people about breaking stereotypes and all… we did do some shit. We were far from how benevolent we presented ourselves as. Turns out the city was just as corrupt and prejudiced as my village was. There were all types of plans and coordinations made to ‘cleanse’ the city of all the ‘dangers and monsters’. None of us were just going to sit back and watch idly. We had the power to do something, so we did. Only… it fell apart at the end. I’m not sure how they’re all doing now—I can only hope they’ve made it out okay—but things were awful when I left. When I had to leave.”

“What did you do?”

Ren isn’t sure if the deep exhale he lets out is just a steadying breath or a heavy sigh. “The royals in the city, the lord in charge of it all, he was the biggest supporter of driving out the monsters and magic users. He preyed on everyone’s fears, telling them what they wanted to hear, that the solution to everything ‘wrong’ was so simple if they only turned on each other. It was working, really well honestly, and that’s why we had to stop him. We tried, at least. We had a method of… suggesting changes in one’s thoughts. His inner circle must have caught onto our plan because when we cast the spell, something blocked it. Maybe an anti-magic ward or a protective spell—I don’t know. The city guards started zeroing in on us immediately and the best thing I could think of to allow the others to escape was to be a diversion to buy them time.”

“So they chased you out.”

“Yep.” Ren sweeps the back of his hand across his face to clear his eyes of the tears pouring over. “Drove me right into the forest, but they kept coming even beyond that. They only gave up on me once I crossed into the Deep. And then I just had to survive. Trying to find the others would only put them in more danger, so I just focused on surviving until I could find them again. And after I don’t even know how long, Morgana found me. And the rest you know.”

Ren shrugs, desperately trying to play off the emotions choking him. “So I’ve been here ever since. I’ve tried several times to contact the others, but nothing has gone through. I just hope they’re okay. Hopefully they could convince everyone that I was acting alone, or something.”

“I grew up with my mother. Just my mother. For as long as I can remember, it was just her and I living in this derelict little shack in the woods.” His eyes sweep across the room in time with his swishing tail, but quickly return to staring somewhere to the left of Ren’s shoulder. “Kind of like this place, only worse.”

“I think I’ll take that as a compliment?”

The briefest flash of a smile quirks Goro’s lips up around his exposed fang. “You certainly decorate better. Ours was quite barren. I think a lot of that was up to the fact that my mother lived in the woods before. She was a human. Apparently she didn’t know what my father truly was even after he abandoned her for becoming pregnant.”

“So when did she…?”

“After I was born. One day I transformed and then she had the rest to figure out for herself. She told me she tried her best to hide it, but the truth got out eventually. The neighbors and friends she had all her life chased her out of their village. Then she was just left with me. She did her best, but…”

“Where is she now? Is she alright?”

“She died a long time ago.”

“Oh… oh my gods, I’m so sorry—”

“It was my fault.”

“Woah, hey, I’m—I’m sure that’s not true, Go—”

“What do you think happened, Ren?” The use of his name shocks him silent. “She was living with a monster for years. With a power and a deadliness that you know is lethal. What do you think happened?”

“…Goro. I see the pain in your eyes. I remember the devastation you felt before I passed out. I know whatever happened, you didn’t do on purpose. You didn’t with me; you didn’t with her. You can’t hold yourself responsible.”

“I have nothing to do but hold myself responsible. I don’t understand, I don’t get how others can be in packs, always surrounded by other things that they don’t want to kill. If I keep myself away, then only my prey gets hurt. 

“But then you drag me here, force my hand so that I heal and recover, and the moment—the moment—I’m forced by that fucking moon to transform, you’re on the floor bleeding out. What does that tell you, Ren? You’re not stupid, I can see that much. So connect the dots and try again to honestly look me in the eyes and tell me I shouldn’t hold myself responsible.”

Ren does not falter. He waits for a few moments, so that Goro has no ground to stand on and accuse him of not thinking it through, but he does not falter when he takes a step forward, bringing them chest to chest. He raises his head, meeting the fear and fury blazing in Goro’s garnet eyes head on.

Chest to chest and nearly nose to nose, Ren speaks, his voice steady and calm from the weight of his words. “When I look at you, I see my friend. I see someone who, despite every hesitation you just laid out, has done nothing but help me and bring me so, so much joy into my life. You think your kindness should be forgotten in the wake of your so-called monstrosity, but that’s not how I work. You’ve refused to see me as plain or ignore my complexities—I refuse to do the same to you.”

Slowly, placing both hands on either side of Goro’s face and pressing their faces together—forehead to forehead and lips nearly touching—Ren breathes out the truth he knows Goro needs to hear.

“You made a mistake. You lost control. That does not stop me from loving you. You bring me a happiness I didn’t know existed, and I don’t think I ever want to go back to living a life without you in it. You mean too much to me to let you go simply because you think you’re not worthy. I love you, Goro.”

An ocean of emotion roils and crashes within Goro’s eyes. Ren hears and feels his breath catch, the disbelief fiercely competing with the clear relief and joy in his eyes.

Large, calloused hands latch onto either side of Ren’s face, digging into the skin of his cheeks and jaw. They shake, as does Goro’s own breath as he speaks barely above a whisper.

“You… You’re so— How can you just—?” Goro’s quiet, incredulous laugh ghosts against Ren’s lips. “You’re insane. Truly, honestly insane. After everything I’ve done and I just told you, you’re still…? I don’t understand you.”

“You don’t have to understand me. It’s just as well if you simply accept me. And all my ‘brainless affections’ in tow.”

Something changes in Goro’s eyes—the fear and rage is still there, but the light of something new swirls among them. Ruinous affection in all its complicated light burning like the north star Ren wished for all those years ago while lost in the Deep.

“You bastard,” Goro breathes. “You just slipped right in, didn’t you? Got past everything I fight so hard to maintain, found all my weaknesses.”

“I guess I did. But you’re the one who chose to stay with me this whole time.”

“You’re despicable. I hate you, Ren.”

“I love you too.”

The hands grasping his face tighten nearly to the brink of breaking skin, but Ren only laughs and smiles against the lips pressed against his own.