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Flame had been tracking the blood for twenty minutes before he found the source.
At first, he'd thought it was an animal. Some unlucky deer or wolf that had wandered into the wrong fight. But the color was wrong—too dark, too purple, with that distinct shimmer that spoke of something fundamentally altered. Poisoned. Changed.
He knew exactly one person whose blood looked like that.
"Shit," Flame muttered, picking up his pace. The blood drops were getting larger, more frequent. Whatever had happened, it had happened recently. And badly.
The trail led him deeper into the forest, away from the main paths and into the dense undergrowth where the trees grew thick enough to block out most of the fading daylight. Flame's internal heat flared brighter, casting orange light across the darkening woods. Small wisps of smoke curled up from his shoulders, dissipating into the canopy above.
He almost missed it. Would have missed it, if not for the fact that he was specifically looking for signs of disturbance. A broken branch here. Disturbed moss there. And then, behind a half-destroyed oak tree whose trunk bore fresh claw marks, he saw it.
Wemmbu.
Flame's breath caught in his throat.
Wemmbu was slumped against the tree trunk, his body folded in on itself at an angle that looked wrong. One hand pressed to his side, fingers slick with purple-black blood that kept seeping between his claws no matter how hard he pressed. His coat was shredded, used to cover his bleeding body, barely holding together, revealing deep gashes across his ribs and shoulder that were still bleeding sluggishly. His left horn had a fresh arrow chip in it, the broken arrow lying a few feet away in the grass. Definitely a battle wound.
But it was his eyes that made Flame freeze. They tracked toward Flame with delayed recognition, unfocused and hazy.
Then they sharpened.
"Oh, Fuck off," Wemmbu snarled, claws extending immediately. His tail whipped defensive despite how it trembled with effort.
"Bro, what the hell happened?"
"None of your business." Wemmbu's voice was venomous even through the obvious pain. "Leave."
"You're literally dying against a tree."
"Not dying." Wemmbu bared his teeth. "And even if I was, last person I'd want finding me is you."
Flame moved closer anyway, trying to assess the damage. The wounds were deep, too deep. And that blood—the purple was getting darker by the second. "Let me see—"
Wemmbu's hand shot out, claws fully extended and aimed at Flame's throat. "Touch me and I'll rip your throat out."
"Bro, seriously?"
"Dead serious." Wemmbu's eyes glinted with genuine hostility. "Get lost, Flame. I don't want you here."
"Well, too bad, bro, because you need help."
Flame sat back on his heels, smoke puffing out in an irritated exhale. "You've got like three major sword wounds that need actual medical attention and you're out here bleeding. Yeah, bro, you totally don't need help."
"I don't need anything from you." Wemmbu spat the words like they tasted bad. "Especially not your pity."
"It's not pity—"
"Then what is it?" Wemmbu's laugh was sharp and humorless. "You think I'm gonna owe you if you help? That it? Want leverage?"
"What? No, bro, I just—"
"Or maybe you want to see me weak." Wemmbu's tail lashed again, more agitated. "That'd be nice for you, wouldn't it? Your rival all pathetic and bleeding out."
Flame felt his chest heat up with frustration. "That's not—why would you even think that?"
"Because we're enemies." Wemmbu said it like it was obvious. "Because you'd do anything to get an advantage. So would I."
"This isn't about advantages!"
"Everything's about advantages." Wemmbu pressed harder against his wound, purple-black blood oozing between his fingers. "So go away before I make you."
"Make me?" Flame gestured at him. "Bro, you can barely sit up straight."
The look Wemmbu gave him was pure hatred. "Try me."
Flame stared at him. At the stubborn set of his jaw, the way he was still trying to look intimidating despite barely being conscious. At the blood pooling beneath him and the obvious tremor in his hands.
"Is this about the rival thing?" Flame asked, smoke curling from his shoulders. "You're seriously gonna die out here because you don't want me to see you hurt?"
"I'm not dying." Wemmbu's voice dropped to something dangerous. "And even if I was, I'd rather bleed out than let you anywhere near me."
"That's—bro, that's insane!"
"That's smart." Wemmbu's claws dug into his own side, like he'd rather hurt himself more than accept help. "I know how this works. You help me, then you use it against me later. Hold it over my head. Maybe tell everyone how pathetic I looked."
"I wouldn't—"
"You would." Wemmbu's darkened eyes narrowed. "Because that's what I'd do.” He looked completely serious, but Flame could see the subtle bite of the inside of his cheek. Wemmbu was lying.
Flame stared at him, heat flaring hotter in his chest. "Not everything's a scheme, bro! Sometimes people just don't want other people to die!"
"Why?" The word was sharp as broken glass. "Why would you care if I die? We hate each other."
"I don't—" Flame stopped. Started again. "I don't want you dead, alright? That's it. That's the reason."
"That's not a reason."
"It is to me!"
Wemmbu laughed, bitter and pained. "Right. Sure. The guy who's been trying to take me down for months suddenly cares about my wellbeing." His tail wrapped tighter around his leg. "You think I'm stupid?"
"I think you're stubborn!"
"Good." Wemmbu's grin was all teeth and hostility. "Now leave before I do something we'll both regret."
They stared at each other. A crow called somewhere in the distance. Wemmbu's breathing was getting shallower, more labored.
"Look," Flame said, forcing his voice to stay level, "I don't want you dead, alright? Whatever shit we've got between us, I don't want that. So just—just let me help."
"Why?" The word came out bitter. "So you can hold it over me later?"
"Bro, what? No!" Flame ran a hand through his hair, frustration mounting. "Because you're bleeding out and I'm not just gonna watch that happen! Is that so hard to believe?"
Wemmbu's expression flickered with something Flame couldn't quite read. Then it hardened again. "I'm fine."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
"It's really not, bro."
Wemmbu tried to stand, clearly planning to just drag himself away. He made it about three inches before his legs gave out completely. He slammed back against the tree with a choked gasp, more blood spilling from the wound.
"Stop—just stop moving, bro!"
"Stop following me!" Wemmbu snarled back. His claws scraped against the bark as he tried to pull himself up again. "I don't want you here! I don't need you here!"
"You're gonna kill yourself!"
"Better than owing you!"
That stopped Flame cold. "Owing me?"
"Yeah." Wemmbu's breath came in harsh pants. "You help me, I owe you. That's how it works. And I'm not—" He coughed, purple-flecked. "I'm not giving you that."
Flame stared at him. At the stubborn set of his jaw, the way he'd rather bleed out than accept help. At the genuine belief in his eyes that this was all some kind of trap.
"You really think I tracked you down just to get leverage?" Flame asked quietly.
"Why else would you be here?"
"Because you're bleeding out, bro!" Flame pulled out the bandages, frustration finally boiling over. "Because I don't want to find you dead tomorrow! Is that so hard to believe?!"
"Yes!" Wemmbu tried to bat the bandages away, claws extending. "Now get lost before—"
"No." Flame's patience, already thread-thin, finally snapped completely. "You know what? Fuck it, bro."
Before Wemmbu could process what was happening, Flame reached, grabbing Wemmbu by the shoulder gently while scratching at the base of his horns.
The effect was instantaneous and devastating.
Wemmbu went completely rigid, eyes flying wide. "What—no—you're cheating!"
"Not cheating, bro." Flame kept scratching, finding the sensitive spot where horn met skull. "Just being smart."
"That's—" Wemmbu tried to pull away but his body had other ideas. A low, rumbling sound started building in his chest. "Stop—"
"Nope."
The rumbling got louder. Wemmbu's eyes fluttered, tears nearly falling but got blinked away, his expression cycling rapidly through outrage, confusion, and something dangerously close to relaxation. "You—this is—"
"Necessary?" Flame supplied, scratching a little harder. "Yeah, bro, it is."
"Fuck you," Wemmbu managed, but it came out significantly less hostile than before. His claws retracted fully, hands coming up to try and bat Flame's away. "This isn't—you can't just—"
The rumbling turned into a full purr.
Wemmbu's face went through approximately fifteen emotions at once, landing somewhere between mortified and too relaxed to care. "I hate you," he said, but his body had gone slack against Flame, the tension finally bleeding out of his shoulders.
"Yeah, yeah, bro." Flame shifted his grip so he could scratch with one hand while reaching for bandages and healing potions with the other. "You can hate me after I patch you up."
"'m serious." Wemmbu's words were starting to slur, but not from blood loss this time. His tail had unwound from his leg and was now doing this lazy swishing thing. "This is... cheating..."
"You already said that."
"'cause it's true." Wemmbu tried to glare at him but his eyes kept drooping. The purring intensified. "You're... playing dirty..."
"Whatever works, bro." Flame carefully poured some healing potion and pressed a bandage against the worst wound on Wemmbu's side. Wemmbu barely flinched, too busy melting under the horn scratches to properly protest. "See? This isn't so bad."
"Hate you," Wemmbu mumbled again, but he'd tilted his head to give Flame better access to his horns, which kind of ruined the effect.
"Sure you do." Flame worked quickly, cleaning and bandaging while Wemmbu was too blissed out to fight back. The purring was honestly kind of cute, like taking care of a hissing kitten, not that he'd ever say that out loud. "Just keep thinking that, bro."
Wemmbu made a sound that might've been a protest but came out more like a content hum. His eyes had slipped half-closed, body loose and pliant in a way that was probably the opposite of what he'd wanted Flame to see.
"I want to kill you..." he murmured, even as he unconsciously leaned into the touch.
"Yeah, well." Flame tied off the last bandage, but kept scratching because stopping now seemed cruel. "Someone had to get you to hold still, bro."
Wemmbu's response was another purr, louder this time. His tail curled loosely around Flame's wrist, the gesture almost affectionate before Wemmbu seemed to realize what he was doing and tried to pull it back. Tried being the key word—his body wasn't really listening to him anymore.
"This doesn't... change anything," Wemmbu said stubbornly, words thick and drowsy. "Still rivals."
"Sure, bro. Still rivals."
"And I still... don't trust you."
"Noted."
Wemmbu fell quiet for a moment, just purring, his head now fully resting against Flame's shoulder in a way he'd probably be furious about later. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper.
"...thanks."
Flame almost fumbled the bandage roll. "What was that?"
"Nothing." Wemmbu's words came out muffled against Flame's shoulder. "Didn't say anything. You're hearing things."
"Pretty sure you just thanked me, bro."
"Did not." But there was no real heat behind it anymore, just exhaustion.
"Did too."
"Whatever." Wemmbu shifted slightly, wincing. "Just finish up so you can leave."
Flame tied off the last bandage, making sure it was secure. "Not leaving until I'm sure you're not gonna pass out the second I walk away, bro."
"I'm fine now."
"You said that before."
Wemmbu grumbled something incomprehensible but didn't argue further. Flame finally stopped the scratching, and Wemmbu immediately jerked back like he'd been burned, putting distance between them despite how much the movement clearly hurt.
"Don't," Wemmbu said sharply, "ever do that again."
"Worked though, didn't it?"
"That's not the point!" Wemmbu's face was flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment or both. "You can't just—that's playing dirty!"
"You were gonna bleed out, bro. I did what I had to do."
"You used my—" Wemmbu cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That was a low blow."
"Yeah, well, you weren't giving me much choice." Flame started packing up his supplies. "At least now you're not dying."
"I wasn't dying."
"You really wanna argue about this again?"
Wemmbu glared at him, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that he was still sitting in a puddle of his own blood, bandaged up and clearly exhausted. "This doesn't change anything," he said after a moment. "We're still enemies."
"I know, bro."
"And I still don't trust you."
"Got it."
"And if you tell anyone about—" Wemmbu gestured vaguely at himself, "—about any of this, I'll kill you."
Flame held up his hands. "Your secret's safe with me."
They stared at each other for a long moment. Wemmbu's tail swished once, irritated, before curling protectively around himself. His darkened eyes were still watching Flame like he expected an attack at any second.
"Why'd you really do it?" Wemmbu asked quietly. "The truth."
Flame sighed, smoke puffing from his shoulders. "Told you already, bro. I don't want you dead."
"That's not—"
"That's all there is." Flame cut him off. "No schemes, no leverage, no ulterior motives. Just didn't want to find you dead in the woods. That's it."
Wemmbu looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Flame's expression must've convinced him. He looked away, jaw working like he was chewing on words he didn't want to say.
"Fine," he finally muttered. "Whatever."
"You gonna be able to get back okay?" Flame asked, eyeing the wounds. "Or do you need—"
"I'm fine." Wemmbu cut him off quickly. "I can manage."
"You sure? Because like five minutes ago you couldn't even stand—"
"I said I'm fine!" Wemmbu snapped. Then, quieter, "Just... give me a minute."
Flame nodded, settling back against a tree. "Take your time, bro."
They sat in silence, the forest growing darker around them. Wemmbu's breathing gradually evened out, some color returning to his face as the bandages did their job. His tail had stopped its agitated swishing, now just draped limply across the ground.
"I still hate you, you know," Wemmbu said eventually, not looking at Flame.
"Yeah, bro. I know."
"Just making sure we're clear."
"Crystal clear." Flame glanced at him. "You good to move yet?"
Wemmbu tested his weight, managing to push himself up slightly before his arms gave out. He cursed under his breath. "Give me another minute."
"No rush."
More silence. A crow called overhead. Wemmbu's claws dug into the dirt, frustrated.
"I would've been fine, you know," he said suddenly. "Eventually."
"Sure, bro."
"I would've."
"Okay."
"I'm serious."
"I believe you." Flame didn't, but arguing about it seemed pointless.
Wemmbu shot him a suspicious look, like he was trying to figure out if Flame was being sarcastic. Whatever he saw made him huff and look away again.
"Thanks," he said, so quiet Flame almost missed it. "For... whatever."
Flame grinned despite himself. "Anytime, bro."
"Don't push it."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Wemmbu managed to stand this time, swaying slightly but staying upright. His tail lashed once for balance, and he pressed a hand against his side where the bandages were.
"See?" he said, defensive. "Fine."
"Uh-huh." Flame stood too, ready to catch him if he fell. "You gonna make it back?"
"Obviously." Wemmbu took a step, then another, moving slowly but steady. He paused at the edge of the clearing, glancing back. "We never talk about this again."
"Wouldn’t have it any other way, bro.”
Wemmbu stared at him for another long moment, expression unreadable. Then he turned and disappeared into the trees, limping slightly but moving on his own.
Flame waited until he couldn't hear footsteps anymore before letting out a long breath. His hands were still slightly stained with that weird purple-black blood, and there were claw marks on his arm where Wemmbu had grabbed him.
"Idiot," he muttered, shaking his head.
Then he headed back the way he came, leaving the blood trail and broken branches behind.