Chapter Text
Tenna was going to die. That much was certain.
He had no way to tell coherently how long he'd been running, but judging by how effectively lost he was, he'd wager for quite a while. His run had begun to pitter out by now, more of a speedy hobble than anything.
Only one shoe remained on his foot, having lost the other a long way back on a root. His suit jacket was tied half hazardly around his waist, a feeble attempt at stopping the bleeding while running.
That was it, what was going to be the end of him. Two well aimed gunshots.
Everything was supposed to be routine today, mundane and unimportant. Nothing to even consider a second glance at. A normal day, which was certainly what put him where he is now. He let his guard down, and got too comfortable. Tenna should've known better, he did know better, but life had a habit of making people slip up.
It was a simple meetup between him and a fellow crime lord, a simple reestablishing of their truce. Tenna never should've gone in assuming it would go his way like last time, he never should've Just brought along Mike.
He doesn't know what happened to them, the three were still alive when he made his way into the woods. He can't imagine they fared much better, a shame.
Faster than he could react, a gun was pulled, and Tenna was shot twice. It's a blur what happened after, but Tenna remembers at some point he had time to get back up and run. And he did.
The nearby forest loomed as always, a commonly used meeting spot. Out of the way, easy access, and convenient if anything went Wrong. Usually Tenna was the one burying a body out here, how fitting.
His hobble had finally become barely a walk, stumbling by trees on shaking legs. Blood stained the grass behind Tenna, most likely for a long while back. It would be easy to find him and yet they gave chase rather quickly.
A few gunshots had followed after him, accompanying yelling and footsteps, but Tenna had always been hard to catch. Came with the business. Maybe it would've been better, though, bleeding out slowly was unsurprisingly painful.
How unlucky he couldn't have been shot dead with ease.
The pain radiating from his stomach finally won over, and Tenna collapsed onto the forest floor. Two bullets, both through his abdomen. Angel knows how he managed to run for this long in the first place.
He didn't want to die, the inching horror setting in now. Struggling, fistfuls of grass and kicking legs brought about nothing. Tenna's body would no longer rise. His shoulders shook, he could feel his breathing rattling his chest.
Slowly, Tenna dragged his body to the nearest tree. Nails scraped on bark, chipping and scratching his palms. It was the least of his worries. With the little energy he had left, Tenna propped his body up against the tree.
The least he could do was die with dignity.
Faint moonlight fluttered through the canopy, thick bushy trees giving away little. It was beautiful, it was a nice final view.
His glasses set askew on his face, pressing into his nose awkwardly. The jacket was too tight on his waist, on his injuries, but he didn't have the strength to move anything. A final few inconveniences even in death, how.. human.
Tenna, for the first time in possibly his entire life, let go of control.
And closed his eyes.
~~•·★·•~~
Waking up was far from the expected outcome.
Much less swaddled in blankets and sweating buckets. If this was hell, it was certainly a comfortable welcoming party.
Tenna's head burned in pain, thumping against his skull and squeezing his eyes. He kept them shut, sucking in a sharp breath as the pain pierced once more.
His torso hurt, but his head was the focal point. It didn't make sense, he'd been shot before and it was much worse than a headache. That must definitely mean he's dead, then. Explains the ghost of pain he feels.
Despite the roaring headache dulling his senses, Tenna was able to make note of a Few things.
For starters, he could hear a fire nearby. It crackled happily, well taken care of. Second, he smelt wood. Not just the natural forest scent, no, wood that had been cut and used. Lastly, Tenna could hear Footsteps.
They were different from any shoe he'd heard before. It clicked softly like a heel or a boot, but in unusual intervals, almost like the person had multiple shoes on. The wood creaked occasionally as the tapping wandered about across the room, giving Tenna a general idea of the layout.
He'd never heard of demons being polite.
With considerable effort, Tenna forced his eyes open as curiosity won out over exhaustion. Surprisingly, his glasses had remained on his face. After a moment of adjusting, the world around him came into view.
First thing of note, he was correct on the wood smell. The roof above him was clearly that of a log cabin, the walls sharing the same confirmation. They were well taken care of, yet unstained in any way. Just raw wood.
Now comes the very hard part. To see the rest of the room, Tenna needed to move, and he needed to move without alerting the other person.
A glance down confirmed he was wrapped up tightly, but not in blankets. In animal skins, mainly deer as Tenna recognized the shade of brown. How.. interesting.
Slowly but surely, Tenna shuffled backwards with hopes of hitting a headboard.
Instead, Tenna's pillow and head fell off the back.
Life long practice staying quiet kept him from making a noise, but his head thumping on the ground did anyway. His eyes screwed shut as he bit his lip, hard. His head throbbed in pain, spiking back tenfold and the accidental thunk.
The tapping made its way over quickly, and Tenna opened his eyes.
Standing above him was no man.
But it was not a creature he'd ever seen either.
It was, somehow, a monster.
He had to be in hell.
It wasn't incredibly tall, Tenna could tell even from the awkward laying position. Solid black feathers lined its face and entire body, shimmering red at the tips on the head and wings in the fires light. The wings were huge and laid where a human's arms would be. It was up right, like a person, but the white feathered face gave it away. A dark short furred shirt (body suit..?) covered his torso and legs, separated by a belt with multiple bags attached. Red eyes gazed down at him, wide and curious.
The clicking became obvious, then.
Its talons were massive, with a middle claw Tenna could only assume at least 4 inches long. And to his horror, one of them reached out.
He moved to thrash, to pull away from what could only be impending pain, but hardly got far. His arms were heavy, especially so under all the fur. The movement also finally awoke his torso, which sent a painful message to stop moving across his body. Tenna gagged from the pain, shaking despite his best efforts to hide it.
"WHOA- HEY, hey, calm down!" Blearily, Tenna stared up into bright red eyes. They stared right back.
"Sorry I- uh- didn't mean to scare you! I thought you were still asleep." Crouching down, legs bending with ease to accommodate for the swift movement, the bird-like creature smiled.
"Will you.. let me help you back onto the nest..?" ....nest? Tenna's body hurt too much to attempt to look anywhere else, so he couldn't look and see if he was in a nest and not a bed. The monster took his silence as a yes, and that large talon reached back out.
Tenna screwed his eyes shut, expecting for his skull to be crushed or his eyes clawed out.
Instead, it cupped the back of his head and pushed him forward. There was a surprising amount of force behind such a short and feeble appearing creature. In his shock, he barely felt the pillow being shuffled back behind his head as well.
"Alright.. uhm.." Tenna opened his eyes, watching it rise up and shuffle its wings. It had kept him alive, that was the only answer. No demon of hell would be that kind to a sinner like him.
But Why? He had nothing to give, his empire had surely fallen by now, he was barely able to move, and he had lost too much blood to be worth eating. No creature, man or beast, did anything without a want in return.
Tenna just had to figure out What, and fast.
On its long legs, the bird retreated from his side. Tenna's head tilted and followed, the pain having subsided for the moment.
It wasn't very large, and seemingly it was also only this room. What also shocked him was the tree trunk in the center, obscuring a corner opposed to him.
Knots where branches once sprouted were cut to the bark, leaving a well trimmed trunk snaking up to the ceiling.
He was, shockingly, in a treehouse.
Across the way, to the left of the tree, stood the monster. It was hunched over a makeshift fireplace, the only stone present in the entire flat room. A simply carved rock bowl hung over the fire, occasionally stirred by a foot.
It was that motion that brought more interest to Tenna about the creature, it could stand on one leg with ease. The other leg was used almost like a hand, gripping and moving things about with incredible precision. It was so interesting to watch.
Seemingly sensing the eyes on it, the bird turned to him. Sharp teeth flashed in a seemingly bright smile, only in turn making Tenna start to lean on an answer for his survival.
"Are you hungry? You've been out for.. about three days now, so you should be." Three days, that would explain his body's stiffness.. and how sore he still felt. Tenna only then realized it was still talking.
"-humans are just so.. weird! Didn't wanna accidentally kill you after all that work to keep you alive!" Having not heard the other half, Tenna took its meaning for the worst. He would've either way, but it was easier with just this to go off of.
The monster wanted to eat him, that was it's quid pro quo. Why else would it keep him alive, and now feed him?
His lack of an answer made it seemingly upset, as its smile fell and a frown replaced it.
"Do you.. uh.. ever stop glaring?" Tenna's frown deepened, making the monster click its teeth.
Before, suddenly, a look of shock crossed its face. With a groan, it slapped a wing to its forehead and laughed,
"Angel, what am I doing! Of course you're scared, you're human!" Rude, Tenna wasn't scared. He was being practical and staying on edge. He didn't say this, though, and just continued to stare.
"I don't exactly... Get visitors, ever." It's wings shuffled,
"I was excited when I realized you were awake, that you lived, I didn't think about.. well." A talon gestured to its own entire body. If Tenna wasn't so on edge, he might have given a snort on a good day.
The monster turned back to the bowl and began to shuffle around it, pulling out a pair of smaller carved bowls and setting them down on a wooden perch. With clearly practiced precision, it spooned bowls worth of soup into each. Carefully then, it picked one up and awkwardly hopped over.
Miraculously, it only spilled a little bit.
Setting it down on the floor by the bed, the bird smiled wide.
"It's good, I make it a lot." Tenna, for the angel knows amount of times since waking, stared. Those red eyes stared back, and he finally noticed something interesting. It was hard to tell in the low light of the room, but up close he could clearly see. Instead of white, the outside of the iris was black. No wonder those red eyes popped.
"Oh, let me-" swiftly it turned back to its own bowl, scooping it up and taking a large sip. It grinned back at him when it finished, gesturing with his long beak-like nose to his own.
Tenna's stomach rumbled, it did smell good. As much as his survival instincts told him no, and that it was surely poisoned with something the monster was immune to, Tenna slowly shifted to sit up.
The monster watched, intrigued, as after a few minutes of slowly moving, Tenna finally picked up the bowl. It was warm, the rock bowl a unique texture in his hands. Tentatively, at his stomach's pleading, he took a small sip.
It was good, really good. Maybe it was just Tenna's weak and hungry body talking, but it was possibly the best soup he'd ever had. Forgetting about the monster across the way in an instant, Tenna let his body guide the way and quickly drank it all down.
"Don't eat too fast, I don't need you getting sick. I'm glad you like it though." Tenna narrowed his eyes and set the bowl down. The bird's smile dropped again, with a sigh this time.
"Look, we got off on the wrong foot, I'm sorry I scared you- here let's start over." It set its own bowl down and walked over, Tenna continued to glare. Cautiously, it held out a talon,
"My name's Spamton, would you wanna tell me yours?" Tenna did not take Spamton's hand, nor did he say anything. After about a minute with an increasingly growing frown, Spamton dropped his talon and sighed.
"You must be fun at parties." It was an insult, but Tenna didn't take it too hard. Sarcasm was the least of his worries.
And yet.. Spamton took his bowl and.. returned with more soup. He didn't speak this time, returning to his own food, but Tenna felt his mind explode with questions.
What in the angels name was up with this monster.
For starters, no monsters should even be on the surface, Tenna knows that well. On top of that, monsters are notoriously cruel and vile. He'd cared little for the stories now, but as a kid he had loved the tails of the great war. The banishing of those horrid beasts.
Unlike all those stories, what sat across from him was an oversized bird with a rather casual attitude. It had to be a facade, a very well practiced one.
He drank the second bowl slower this time but still faster than he normally would ever eat. Spamton was leisurely eating, not paying much attention to Tenna now. None of this made sense, no matter how many times he ran over it.
When Spamton finished eating, he took Tenna's bowl, and placed them on a different shelf. He moved the pot off the fire pushing some more firewood into the blaze in the process. Tenna watched with curious eyes as the monster roamed the small room.
Spamton passed by Tenna a few times, sparing a glance once before looking away again. Shutters closed on glassless windows, locking out the night, and some vegetables he now noticed were put away.
He didn't know how long he watched, but after it was all done Spamton turned back to him.
"I redid your bandages a few hours ago so you're fine to sleep, I'm turning in myself." He stepped up on a large log secured to the wall, legs bending down until he was sitting over his talons. Like a little bird on a perch.
"If you need anything, you know my name." Spamton's voice was less open than it had been earlier, seeming to finally accept his guest wasn't the friendly type. Tenna gazed up at the monster, noticing the white feathers underneath those black wings now. They faded into the same bright red as his eyes, and without thinking Tenna's mind settled on beautiful.
Ignoring the shimmering feathered monster, Tenna shimmied down in his bed (or, nest, apparently) and closed his eyes.
All he had to do was recover, and escape. He wasn't stupid enough to trust Spamton, but if for whatever reason the monster was genuine.. he'd be easy to overpower.
The crackle of the fire and the swell of his headache lulled Tenna back to a deep sleep. Red eyes watched over him, before disappearing in the dark as well.
For once, Tenna dreamed.
He dreamed of a gentle touch on his body, and downy feathers in an embrace.
~~•·★·•~~
When Tenna awoke, he was alone.
The fire had puttered out sometime ago, black remnants of sticks not even glowing with embers. The light was drifting in from the open window, a warm midday shine.
Just like last night, Tenna's body ached. His headache had dulled to a present but manageable throb, leaving his stomach as the main issue. Slowly scooching forwards as he rose, Tenna planted his legs at the end of the bed to ground his body.
He winced as he finally sat up straight, frown deepening as looked down. Peeling off warm furs (six pelts, to be exact) finally greeted Tenna with a look at his injury. It was wrapped in what appeared to be homemade cloth, wide enough Tenna wasn't exactly sure where the bullet holes actually were.
Half of his mind willed him to peel it off, to check over Spamton's work. But he hesitated before deciding it wasn't worth it for now. With nothing at his disposal, at least that he understood yet, if he made himself bleed he could ruin this second chance.
"... Where's my shirt." His voice croaked, straining from days without use. Of course no one responded, but Tenna was talking to himself anyway.
With a grimace, he leveraged himself on the wall and rose to his feet. His entire waist clenched in pain, making Tenna grind his teeth as he leaned against the wall to breath. Against his will, his head thunked against the wall as he sighed. He didn't like feeling so vulnerable, but he had to work with what he had.
Careful and slow steps creaked on wooden boards as Tenna steadied himself on the wall. His first point of business was the window, which thanks to the small size of the treehouse wasn't far. Each step felt easier than the last as his strained muscles stretched after days of dormancy.
Spamton's perch was the only thing between the bed and the window, which Tenna paused to take a glance at. Despite being used by the sharp clawed monster there were no marks on the log. It was well taken care of, smooth to Tenna's touch. How funny it was to imagine a bird doing woodworking.
Now was a real test, he either left the wall and walked around the perch, or ducked under. Both options didn't exactly sound painless, but bending down at all seemed like the worst option.
Even still, Tenna kept a hand on the log as he rounded it just in case.
Before he reached his goal, he glanced to his left to see the corner of the room the tree trunk obscured originally. It appeared to be the storage area, with three wooden boxes of varying sizes stacked together. Beside them was a small table, accompanied with what appeared to be homemade knives.
Tenna made a very large mental note about them and then finally looked out the window.
While delirious from pain and blood loss, Tenna had understood the trees were tall. Clearly not to the extent he needed, as he now stared wide eyed down from a height that surely would kill him. He was no math whiz, but he'd wager he was a few stories up.
He was just shy of the tree tops at the window, close enough that mostly full daylight came through. The forest floor below looked no different than another other forest he'd seen, leaving him with little answers. Above all else, however, was one clear worrying fact.
There was no ladder.
At the very least it confirmed two things. One, Spamton could fly. Two, he carried Tenna up here.
Now, Tenna was no small man. He'd been obnoxiously tall his entire life and he wasn't exactly skinny either. He was a big man, hefty one might say. Spamton, from all he could see, was built like any bird but in a more human form.
That is to say, feeble.
Evidently, he was very wrong, and needed to rethink his overpower and escape plans. For multiple reasons.
Feeling quite defeated, Tenna retreated from the window and wandered to the nearby boxes. It was there that he noticed on top the furthest was his shirt, bloodstained and torn up, but in one piece. The blood was dried and there seemed to have been an Attempt at washing it out.
It didn't work, but it was a white shirt after all. His hands, he noticed now, shook a bit as he buttoned it up slowly. He chalked it up once more to the blood loss from the past few days and moved on.
No longer shirtless in a strangers house, Tenna got to work rummaging through said strangers' things.
The first box he opened, the longest one and the furthest out, was a brine box. Multitudes of different cuts of meat and organs were stored in it, submerged in water and covered in salt. Tenna didn't recognize the animal, he wasn't a butcher, but did feel an inch of uncertainty. The stories always did say monsters ate humans.
Ignoring the literal tub of meat, Tenna closed it and moved onto the next.
This one was the one he caught a glimpse of last night, where Spamton had dropped in some leftover vegetables. They were nothing of note, wild berries and wild onions. The rest were plants and (assumedly) edible flowers he didn't know the names of. On the left side was a section pre-cut, sectioned off with little wooden dividers, while the other was simply whole vegetables and plants on top of each other.
As Tenna began to devise a plan to move the top box and not hurt himself worse, a loud thud made him jump.
Stumbling back and grabbing a nearby knife from the table, Tenna whipped it forward with wide eyes. Spamton stared back and smiled sheepishly,
"You really don't do anything but frown, huh?" Rude.
Before Tenna could respond, if he even was going too, Spamton heaved something up onto the window seal.
A deer, a whole ass fucking deer.
Its head hung limp, twisted unnaturally, before Spamton stepped the rest the way in with the whole body. It thudded to the ground, limbs all which ways. Tenna's shocked stare only doubled, brow creasing in amazement.
It was one thing to assume Spamton could pull much more than his weight, but to see it was a whole nother ball park. The monster smiled at him still, one talon still resting on the deer's back.
"I'm glad you're up, you slept all morning so I wasn't sure I'd see you again for a few more days." Spamton seemed little bothered by Tenna having a knife, instead opting to drag the deer's body over to him and the table. Slowly, Tenna stepped out of the way, knife still raised, and watched Spamton drop the carcass on the table.
"Good to see you can walk fine." Spamton mused, and held his talon out to Tenna. He hesitated, the corner of his mouth twitching, before he passed over the knife. He was in no safe position to fight back, not right now. Biding his time and getting along was his best option.
Spamton smiled wider than before, giving Tenna a closer look at the sharp teeth in his mouth. For a monster so small (probably just at 5ft tall) he was beginning to feel quite intimidating to Tenna.
"Thanks. You ever gutted an animal?" Tenna blinked slowly, mostly from shock at the question, and then shook his head no. Spamton pursed his lips.
"I can show you, if you want. It's uh, pretty bloody though." His red eyes fell down Tenna's shirt and squinted,
"Couldn't get that blood out of your shirt already so.. why don't you start the fire instead, yeah?" Tenna gazed down at Spamton, willing himself just long enough until he spotted the monster's feathers ruffling. Then, he turned and hobbled away to the fireplace.
He heard Spamton scoff after him but bit his tongue, reminding himself he was playing nice (enough) to survive. The fire at least was easy enough, Tenna knew enough about flint to get it going. From there, he just simply rolled a few logs inside and watched the fire grow.
With a huff, Tenna spared a curious glance across the room to Spamton, finding him already bloody. The deer's guts were wide open, organs being pulled out and sorted on the table. Spamton switched knives to a smaller thin blade, and Tenna clicked that it must be to skin the deer.
Tenna didn't feel disgusted, he didn't feel anything really towards the gore. He'd seen and done much worse to other people, although he had never skinned someone. If things ever went back to normal, which they will, (the normal he knew) he should keep that method in mind.
Leaning against the wall now, Tenna watched with intrigue as Spamton carefully cut and peeled away the skin. The monster had glanced back to him once, a momentary eye contact punctuated by a smile, but he'd yet to say anything. Tenna was still keen on not speaking if possible, so it made things easier.
Spamton worked with clear practiced precision, each stroke and slice well thought out and purposeful. It was fascinating, really, as someone who'd never seen anything like it.
Sure, he'd had the Mikes disembowel somebody before, and he'd cut off limbs and done mutilation to about every single section of the human body. And yet, this was different. Unlike his work, which was aggressive and vile and cruel, Spamton worked with grace. With respect.
Tenna learned more about Spamton from watching him skin a deer than any of their fleeting one-sided conversations had given him. Spamton was nothing like Tenna, that much was clear.
It didn't take long for Tenna's body ache to start to win over his interest, his abdomen spiking in pain progressively. His muscles had appreciated the movement, but his gunshot wounds had not. Giving into his desire for relief, Tenna left his spot on the wall.
Spamton didn't look at him, but Tenna's heavy feet on the wood made it clear as day. Laying down was a bit of a pain, but the bed was a welcoming embrace. Whatever "nest" this was as Spamton had described it was incredibly comfortable. He shifted a few of the pelts over his waist, hoping the heat may dull the pain over time.
Almost instantly his eyes felt heavy, a sigh escaping him as he didn't fight to keep them open. The crackle of the fire was soothing, and he found Spamton's clattering and tapping about wasn't a bother.
Spamton was such an interesting creature to look at. It felt almost like every time he really looked at him, he noticed something new.
For example, what he'd assumed were just tufts on his head appeared to actually be two feather-like ears. Or the little round red circles on his cheeks he couldn't see in the low light last night.
There was much to wonder about with Spamton, much indeed. But above his appearance, Tenna needed to know his goal.
After only a short while of brooding, Tenna was back asleep.
The smell of meat woke him this time, groggy and sweaty. The unexpected nap had helped with his headache, as it was no longer present, but his waist still aches. It probably would for a long, long time.
Rolling over slowly, Tenna watched curiously as Spamton busied around the fire.
At his position he couldn't see exactly what the monster was doing, but sound and smell gave him a good guess. As much as Tenna didn't trust the oversized magpie, he wouldn't lie and say his cooking wasn't good. Or at the very least, his soup was.
Rising from his sweltering cocoon, Tenna bit back a wince and drifted over. Spamton had some cuts from the deer he'd butchered earlier on a stone slab, sizzling as he watched intently. The slab slid into the fireplaces alcove on an indent in the bricks, intentionally made for that purpose.
Tenna could only assume Spamton built this little house himself, and had to admit he was impressed. Not that he'd say that, let alone anything.
Spamton greeted him with a flick of a head feather,
"You've got a knack for waking up just in time to eat." The monster mused, a fang peaking past his lips as he grinned. Tenna stared back, and continued to say nothing.
Spamton sighed, and his smile fell.
Tenna migrated his way back to the bed after a short while, watching as Spamton finished up and cut the meat up. He didn't know what part of the deer it was, and really he didn't care to ask. It was probably best not to, that was the rule of thumb with most meats after all.
Spamton divided up their bowls once more, giving Tenna more of both the, now cut into slivers, meat and bone broth he'd had in the pot below. This time, Tenna walked over and took his bowl himself, being met with a smile from Spamton once more.
He waited still until Spamton began to eat, still never truly letting his guard down. He had to keep reminding himself, kindness was never true. Spamton wanted something, and Tenna had to be ready when that facade fell away.
As Tenna expected, it was good. Maybe near death experiences made everything taste good, or maybe the monster was simply just a great cook with the little options he had. Regardless of the how or why, Tenna found himself with a second bowl again tonight.
"It's nice to know someone else likes my cooking, I've always been a fan but, well.. I figured I was just used to it." Spamton talked with his mouth full much to Tenna's disgust, feeling every little bit of building respect for the monster fading instantly. Gross.
Spamton was oblivious to Tenna's mental assault and wished for him to stop, instead he continued on talking about his cooking experience. All the while eating, mouth open, to Tenna's detriment. He ate and talked fast at least, so it was thankfully over with sooner rather than later.
Once more, Tenna watched in silent interest as Spamton wandered the flat. Pouring some water in each bowl and rinsing them, putting them back on a shelf to dry, and then moving the pot and slab off the fire. It felt like Tenna was watching someone's life as a third party, and in a way he was.
Keen on keeping tonight the same as the last, Tenna moved with a slight wince to lay down. To his surprise, a talon landed on his shoulder.
Tenna jumped on his feet in an instant despite the pain. He bared his gritted teeth and was met with a wide eyed gaze. Spamton waved his wings in a calming gesture,
"Sorry! Sorry, I'm doing a shitty job at not scaring you, huh." Tenna almost, almost, broke his silence to reiterate he wasn't scared. He didn't get scared.
"I just wanted to replace your bandages before you laid back down, s'all." Spamton tucked his wings back in as he spoke, talon reaching up into one of the bags on his belt to retrieve another homemade cloth. Tenna hesitated, only to be reminded by a sharp pang that he needed to keep on top of his condition.
Slowly, Tenna sat down, and began to unbutton his shirt. Spamton averted his gaze, Tenna was sure why considering he'd already seen him shirtless by this point. He left it hanging off his shoulders and with a straightening of his back waved to Spamton. The monster got to work quickly.
With that long (made for disemboweling, Tenna thought) middle claw, Spamton hooked onto the stitching keeping it on and sliced through them. The cloth fell off with ease, revealing the last thing Tenna expected.
Irritated and red scars.
SCARS.
There was no plausible or fathomable way his in one-side out the other gunshot wounds had healed that fast, let Alone past the scab phase. They weren't completely healed, still clearly raw with newly formed skin, but the scarring was there. His facial expression must've given it away, as Spamton answered the obvious question in the room.
"Did my best to heal you when I got you up here, healing magic is what I'm best at. Couldn't get you completely healed, and your inside tissue is still really sensitive, but you're alive! I think I did a pretty decent job." Spamton casually explained, like he hadn't just told Tenna magic was fucking real. Stories told of it, in those same monster slaying tales, but Tenna was never a real believer. See it to believe it, as they say.
Well, he supposed he believed it now. There was no way Not too, after all. He planned a tentative hand over the wound on his upper left abdomen, feeling the stretched skin. It was hot under his touch, and he quickly pulled it away as it pulsed in pain. Spamton gave him a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry I can't do much more, I have to recover myself from using so much magic. I'm.. not used to it." Gently, for a monster basically with knives on his feet, Spamton wrapped the cloth around Tenna's wounds.
Tenna watched in silence as Spamton retrieved a needle, already threaded with string. He surely spun it himself, which only made Tenna all the more interested. To have so much time, so much learned skill to survive.. he couldn't deny it fascinated him.
Spamton fascinated him, regardless once again that Tenna didn't trust him.
Always good to remind himself.
He was careful sewing the ends of the cloth together, keeping it just tight enough to be snug. Tenna had to wonder how many times he'd had to do it on himself, and how much harder that must be.
Returning the needle to the pouch, Spamton hurried across the room once more.
"Here, let me get you something for the pain, big guy." He called out, rummaging around in the top herbal box Tenna had investigated earlier. The nickname was new. Interesting.
"I gave you some while you were out, just to make sure the pain didn't wake you up. Hopefully it helps again." Tenna watched as Spamton crushed up some seeds and... Sticks? And placed them in a bowl. He then picked up a rock carved into a masher and proceeded to pulverize whatever it was. Another reminder that the bird was a lot stronger than he looked.
Spamton then poured some of the water he kept around in a tall almost vase-like (clay?) pot into it. He swirled it around before finally returning to Tenna.
"It's poppy and willow bark, helps with pain and sleep. Should be what you need." This was the first time Tenna would drink something from Spamton that he hasn't tried first. He wanted to refuse, to make the monster try it first as always. His hesitation got the point across, Spamton took a small sip.
Tenna barely kept the laughter in as his face screwed up at the taste, but he had drunk it. With a defeated sigh, Tenna took the bowl and quickly downed it.
His face, too, scrunched up, and he couldn't stop the gag from punching out his throat. It was disgusting, bad enough Tenna made a mental note that mild pain wasn't worth this. Spamton smiled sympathetically,
"It's disgusting, sorry. It'll help though, it's worth it." Tenna really, really begged to differ.
Spamton once more took the bowl and returned to his wandering work, leaving Tenna to his thoughts once more.
He had already mused about the monster and his motives, coming to a clear conclusion he must want something in return. Spamton was much too nice, even if he was no longer holding back on rude comments. He was awkward, loud, and annoying. Tenna couldn't find it in him, deep down, to hate him.
At least, not yet.
Tenna wasn't known for getting along with others, that was kind of his thing. Beyond his close underlings everyone either feared him or despised him, usually both. He was not kind, he was not compassionate, and he sure as hell didn't like anyone.
Mike he would consider a friend, and he would like to think the three agreed. Even still, they all had their quirks that got on Tenna's nerves. They were the closest to being genuinely liked by him.
Elnina and Lanino were a bit insufferable, but they did their jobs well. Some days he wanted to strangle them and throw their bodies in the river, but it happens to everyone. They have their golden moments, which put them above the rest.
But unlike the five of them, Spamton treated him differently. Completely different. To Spamton, he wasn't a crime boss, he wasn't a criminal, he wasn't a monster to be feared. He was simply a man, injured, that had happened to be dying practically in his yard.
Spamton, to put it simply, treated him like a Person.
He didn't know how to feel about it.
One would figure being away from what had basically been his entire life would drive him crazy, but he wasn't all too pressed. It felt nice for once, to finally feel that pressure off his shoulders. The weight wasn't gone, he knew he would return. He had too. But it was distant, for now, and he welcomed it.
Peace left his life when he overthrew Randal over twenty years ago now, he had grown accustomed to chaos. Don't let anyone tell you running organized crime was easy, his men were morons. He wondered how Mike was faring if any of them had survived.
He wondered if there was anything even to return too.
If not, he could always rebuild. His workers would return to him, they were under contract after all. As long as he was alive, they belonged to him.
Some extra work would be good for him anyway upon returning, a good ice breaker back into work.
He was on his back by now, gazing at the ceiling with droopy eyes. Spamton was on his perch facing away from him, Tenna's eyes traced the red dusted feathers down his back.
A shiver of emotion wormed its way through his body, drowsy and content. Soft fondness for the monster, an emotion Tenna promptly ignored. It wasn't strong, nor was it anything important, simply the natural reaction to the way Spamton treated Tenna.
What it did lead to was a decision Tenna may regret, but that was unimportant to him at the moment.
"Why did you kill that deer?" His voice was low, raspy still from little use. Spamton's head shot up like a rocket, whipping around in shock as he flailed on the post. The corner of Tenna's mouth twitched at the hilarity of it all.
"YOU-" Spamton pointed an accusatory wing, before it lowered once more. A sigh escaped him and he clearly decided not to fight about his silence. Tenna wouldn't have responded anyway, and he seemingly had caught on.
"I figured you, uh, wouldn't like the stored meat I have. I, uhm, don't know what humans eat, but you guys pass by to hunt occasionally so I figured.. fresh meat." How interesting. Spamton was That worried? Tenna couldn't really understand why, but he also would've given a guest rotten meat just to see their reaction. So maybe he wasn't the best to ask.
"Besides, it's never bad to have a stockpile before winter." Those words pierced through Tenna worse than those damn bullets.
Winter.
New York almost always got snow anyway, but where he operated was even more prone. Lake effect snow was always a pain in his ass, and now it was even more so. How could he forget the time of year?
Well, actually it's not that hard to imagine. He did almost die a few days ago, that's a bit distracting after all.
Still, it posed a dangerous question.
Tenna could be stuck with Spamton All Winter.
There was no ideal way he could make it back to civilization in his condition, and knowing the weather it could start to snow any day now. Spamton could fly him back, he knew the monster could carry him, but there was no way he could. That was practically suicide, he'd be killed or hunted down in no time at all.
Walking back was an absurd thought, it was a miracle in itself Spamton had found him anyway. He assumed by how long he was out he flew quite a bit away from his house daily. Which meant he was even Farther from the edge of the forest. All it would take is the weather turning and he'd be dead for real this time.
Maybe he could get lucky, but he needed to prepare himself for the inevitable worst outcome.
Being stuck all winter with Spamton.
"I assume you want me to stay." Tenna questioned, deciding to test the waters with the other. Spamton shuffled his wings uncomfortably,
"It's already late for snow, there's no way you'll be healed enough in time." Exactly what he expected. Tenna's grimace must've been obvious as Spamton sighed, although it was more of a huff this time around.
"Look, I can tell you don't like me or trust me. Clearly you've got uh.. issues, if people are shooting at you," rude, as always, it was them with the issues for shooting Him.
"But, you're stuck with me. It's for the best. So can we just.. try and get along." Spamton stepped back up on his perch, facing Tenna this time. His feathers were ruffled.
"I'm not asking you to like me, I'm asking you to cooperate." That, Tenna could do. He was great at not liking and working with those he didn't like. It was, as aforementioned, kind of his thing.
"Alright." Spamton sighed, clearly defeated, at his one word answer. Tenna turned his gaze to the ceiling once more.
"I do not trust you, I Will not trust you, but I can cooperate." Tenna was curt with his words. He refused to look back down, figuring Spamton was giving him a sad look.
"Guess I'll have to work harder, huh?" That playful lit had returned to his voice, a challenging remark. So that was his game then. How interesting.
Deciding to ignore that returning shivering feeling at someone Wanting him to like them, Tenna closed his eyes.
Sleep found him quickly tonight, no doubt thanks to the disgusting mixture Spamton gave him.
Once more, Tenna dreamed of those dark feathers and red eyes. He dreamed of a smile, and a warm feeling in his chest.
Compassion.. oh how dearly he missed it, deep, deep down.
~~•·★·•~~
The past few days had gone much smoother than Tenna had expected. Something almost of a routine between the two had started to form, giving Tenna that much needed purpose he missed.
It wasn't the same as what he was used to, but having something to do was better than nothing.
Tenna had finally started waking up when Spamton did, just as the sun began to peak over the horizon. From there, Spamton would collect his belt and bags and be off for the whole morning. Tenna meanwhile would be tasked with simple things around the treehouse.
The first day he spent his time cutting up all the flowers, plants, vegetables, and whatever else Spamton had around. It was a good way to get his hands used to doing things again, the shake fading as the pain became more bearable.
Then he had decided to properly wash all Spamton's bowls and cutlery. Sure what the monster did worked, but Tenna was admittedly still grossed out about it. He could tune it out for a few days but he finally snapped. Using some chopped up mint for something to clean with, Tenna got through most before Spamton got back.
Lastly, yesterday, Spamton suggested Tenna try something different.
Tenna had no experience sewing, none at all. Spamton, however, still insisted he take his needle and spun thread and give it a shot. He was given two pelts to simply sew together for an extra thick blanket, something that seemed incredibly easy.
It was far from easy, and Tenna was constantly pricking his finger and making little progress. By the time Spamton came back, Tenna had done only 1/4 of the blanket.. and it wasn't pretty.
Spamton still complimented his work, much to Tenna's irritation as it obviously had to be an insult. Tenna was stubborn and wasn't keen on giving up, so the blanket was now his main focus.
By the time today rolled around Tenna had managed to sew about halfway down the blanket. He made better progress through the evening as he got a better grasp on it. He wasn't going for pretty, although it looking less like a toddler did it would make him feel better.
Today, Tenna had awoken later than usual.
The fire was already stoked, burning at its highest peak across from him. It was strange, as usually Spamton left the fire for him to do. At least he had since Tenna had come around. Then, he noticed the window was shut.
That was even more unusual.
Tenna stalked to the window, his gait stronger than ever as his body continued to heal. The pain wasn't gone, but as each day passed it became more and more bearable. He still held some hope he could escape before the first snow fall.
A freezing violent wind cut into his face the moment he opened the window, cold snow dusting his face. Tenna's glasses fogged, and he lifted them quickly to be faced with the last thing he wanted.
Snow, a lot of snow.
It seemed to have started overnight, as the ground was covered already, but it didn't seem terribly thick yet. The flakes were large and coming down fast, when the wind picked up it was basically impossible to see a few feet away.
What in the world is Spamton doing flying outside in this weather?
Tenna quickly pushes the concern down, because he doesn't care. He's not worried, he just needs Spamton alive so he can stay alive. Simple as that.
He closed the window soon after his nose started to hurt, leaving the now cold side of the room to return to the fire. His glasses were still fogged up, slowly clearing up as he sat by the fireplace.
Spamton had clearly been preparing for snow, returning everyday with new sticks for the fireplace and a new dead animal. It reminded him of a cat in some ways, what with how they bring things to those they like. Tenna didn't quite get how or why Spamton would like him, but the monster kept up the facade.
It wasn't important now, though, Spamton would be back as usual shortly and they'd sit in awkward silence as their new usual was.
Retrieving his current project, Tenna lounged by the fire and continued to work on his blanket.
There wasn't a clock, and with the window shut Tenna couldn't get a good idea of the time. He had one side left to stitch now, his permanent frown deepened. He must be busy.
Tenna sat in silence, the finished blanket on his lap, and his eyes glued to the window shutter.
What could he even do, there's no ladder. He doesn't even have shoes for angels sake. The needle spins between his fingers, nervous fidgeting giving him away to a crowd of no one.
Why was he even acting like this, Spamton wasn't anything more than a need to survive. Hell, he'd probably be fine without him anyway. He had plenty of food and firewood... He'd just need to eventually find a way down.
Tenna's thoughts betrayed his body, which rose and made a straight shot for the window.
He didn't even know what he could do, but his hands were shaking.
Look at him, big and mighty Anthony Tenna getting worked up about someone he met a week ago. How embarrassing, he was embarrassing. He shouldn't act like this, shouldn't feel like this.
He didn't want to be alone again.
Tenna swung open the window and leaned out, finding the weather had grown worse.
The snow was blinding, it was more fair to say it was a blizzard than just snow. Tree limbs across from him sagged from the weight already, roots completely obscured from the snow below. Tenna's face hurt already after a few seconds leaning into the cold, his hands tightened their grip.
"Spamton?" He yelled out, the whipping wind his only response. Snow dusted his face and hair now, his glasses were so covered in fog and snow he couldn't see.
"SPAMTON?" This time, he screamed as loud as he could. His throat burned, already rarely used and now pushed to the limit. He waited with baited breath, on the verge of saying his first prayer to the angel since he was a kid.
Then, he saw it, through the white blinding snow.
A black dot coming closer.
Tenna didn't bite back his sigh of relief, no one was there to hear it after all. He stepped back from the window, sliding off his glasses and shaking them as he waited.
Spamton slammed onto the window seal, stumbling forwards off of it and onto the floor. He was covered in snow, his entire back and head were more white then they were black. Tenna closed the window behind him, pressing the latch down hard.
"What the hell were you doing." Tenna growled, not a question, a statement. Spamton rose to his feet shakily, he was shivering.
"Aw, don't tell me big guy was worried?" Tenna's hand twitched, but he didn't say anything. Spamton stared at him for a moment longer before sighing in defeat.
"I wanted to get as much extra wood as I could since I saw the snow started this morning.. then it got worse and I got.. turned around." Spamton unhooked his belt, everything on him was starting to be soaking wet as the snow melted, and hung it on his perch.
"Didn't even matter too, since I ended up dropping it all in a panic." A small smile is sent his way, Spamton's teeth chatter for a second,
"You're yelling actually is what helped me get turned around the right way." Tenna is so very thankful the house is as dark as it is, he can feel the heat on his face. He doesn't know why.
What he does know, is he starts to move.
Spamton squawks as Tenna grabs him, flailing a bit before falling still as Tenna shuffled him forwards. With ushering akin to a herding dog, Tenna cornered Spamton by the fire. The monster looked up at him with wide eyes, Tenna grimaced at the expression.
"Wh.. are you..?" Tenna didn't let him finish, or answer him really, and instead tossed his newly poorly made blanket over top of him.
"I'll make dinner." Once more, not a question, a statement. Spamton gawked up at him, blinking a few times in a comical fashion. The corner of Tenna's mouth twitched, and something soft crossed Spamton's face. Tenna promptly ignored this and turned away, quickly pushing his focus onto only the food.
He could, in fact, feel Spamton's eyes on him. If he turned to look he was sure those beady red eyes would be trained to his every movement. So he didn't look, as the idea of looking made his stomach feel all weird. Angel above, what is wrong with him.
Someone shows him basic compassion and he all but falls apart.. he clutches the knife harder than before. Spamton was using him, he had his own goals he had to figure out. Tenna steeled himself, took a deep breath, and blocked his panicked mind out.
To the surprise of many, Tenna was a good cook. With his parents being basically entirely absent he had to care for his younger sibling, he wondered how Kris was doing? He hadn't seen them in years, having separated them from his life when he got into organized crime. For their safety. They were a smart (if mischievous) kid, he was sure they were doing fine.
But even after Kris grew old enough to leave the nest so to speak, Tenna continued to cook. It became his main hobby, something to do when he wasn't torturing, intimidating, or doing paperwork. And while he hasn't worked with the meats he has as options, or really with Spamton's tools, he felt confident he could manage.
Tenna decided to stick simple, and make soup. Spamton made it pretty often, so safe to assume he liked it (or at least tolerated it). Tenna filled a bowl with some of his cut herbs and vegetables, mincing up some meat (rabbit, he thinks?) and adding it in before returning to the fire.
Spamton was fully wrapped in the blanket now, the visible feathers on his head puffed out and shining wet in the fires light. The two made eye contact, and Spamton smiled. Tenna looked away and scowled, repeating in his head to get a grip.
Sliding the pot over the fire, Tenna poured in the water and mixture he created. Then, he really just had to wait. The meat would cook in the boiling water, and then they'd be ready to eat. Once more, Spamton watched him intently. Tenna tapped a finger on the rock wall.
"Are you alright." He mumbled, honestly hoping Spamton didn't hear him.
"..Yeah, I'm ok." Spamton's voice was soft back, a tone he hadn't heard from the monster yet. Tenna wanted to turn and run away, but it was possibly the most Impossible thought one could have at this time.
"Good." And he turned his focus back to the soup. Spamton didn't say anything back, and the two fell into their usual silence. It was nice, even though it wasn't much different than the silence from earlier today.
Spamton's breathing, although faint with the fire and cooking soup, was the sound that changed it all. Tenna's nails scraped the rock wall, his mind practically strangling itself for the thought. Spamton, always none the wiser to Tenna's internal turmoil, watched the human with a smile.
It wasn't much longer that their soup was done, thankfully, and Tenna poured them their bowls. Spamton was still shaking, making Tenna wonder if the monster had gotten too cold. Could that even happen? Did they get frostbite? Did they even get sick?
Spamton still ate, not waiting for Tenna to start first. He poured a mouthful into his mouth, feathers ruffling again as he swallowed.
"Angel, that's really good! I didn't know you could cook, why the hell were you making me do all the work?" Spamton's voice had a playful tilt to it Tenna had started to recognize, and decided to play along as he took his own sip (after swallowing, of course).
"You never asked." A tiny, barely noticeable tilt up to the corner of his frown happened, and Spamton laughed.
"Y'know, your smile isn't half bad." Tenna's grimace came back full force, much to Spamton's joyful laughter. He had a very loud laugh, one where he snorted through it and his shoulders bounced. Tenna's chest felt warm, from the food surely.
The two ate mostly in silence from that point on, just the occasional comment from Spamton (WITH HIS MOUTH FULL) to fill the void. Tenna took to cleaning when they were done, taking Spamton's bowl and rinsing it with the mint water concoction he'd created. There wasn't really much else to put up after that, as unlike Spamton who was like a hurricane through the place Tenna put things away when he was done.
Spamton continued to stare at him, like he couldn't believe what was happening. To be honest, Tenna really didn't either.
Walking by and towards what was more or less officially his bed now, Tenna pulled up two more of the animal skins. Spamton's feathers ears flicked one after the other,
"I don't want you to get cold." Tenna dropped them on him once more, huffing at Spamton's comment,
"I get hot, not cold." Spamton gave him a look that clearly said he didn't believe him, but Tenna didn't pay it much mind. He returned to Spamton's side with his four skin blankets and pillow, sat down beside him, and laid one down and started to tuck himself in.
"This feels like a sleepover." Spamton hummed flopping onto the floor directly across from Tenna, putting the two face to face. Tenna rolled his eyes,
"It's already been a sleepover." He grumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chin. Spamton chuckled, shifting around a bit more with the new blankets added to his collection. Tenna watched, biting back a laugh at how he would quickly roll and then use his long pointy nose to tuck himself in. He really was just a big overgrown bird.
They didn't talk after that, at least not for a while.
Tenna couldn't sleep, his eyes kept drifting over to Spamton. His eyes were closed, but he was still shaking. Tenna could tell easily he wasn't actually asleep either.
There were a lot of things he could do, the most obvious for his dignity and understanding of himself was to do nothing. Tenna didn't get along with anybody, let alone help someone. His frown deepened as he watched Spamton tuck his nose under the covers.
He wasn't exactly cold, so he could give Spamton his other blankets. But then he certainly would get cold, and Spamton would probably give them back at that point. There were probably a lot of different options Tenna could take here, many on the cusp of thought if he just let himself think.
Instead, Tenna sat up and scooted over to be right beside Spamton.
The monster squinted up at him, Tenna could see him faintly shaking still even under the blankets. He didn't give himself time to rethink this and acted.
Throwing his remaining blankets over Spamton, he untucked the monster from his cocoon and pulled him into his arms. Tenna then tucked them both back in, now well under more than enough layers and the additional body heat.
Spamton was ridged against him, and Tenna felt his mind race. Angel, why did he do this, this is probably what will get Spamton to reveal he is actually eating humans and kill him right n-
Spamton's wings wrapped tightly around Tenna, a long cold nose pressing into the crook of his neck. Tenna sighed, tension falling from his shoulders, and settled his own hands on Spamton's lower back.
"Are you still cold." He whispered, his face felt hot. He was probably going to overheat at this rate, from all the blankets.
"No, this is... This is great.. thank you." It was then that it dawned on Tenna he still hadn't told Spamton his name. He supposed he didn't need to, Spamton had taken to calling him "big guy" in place of it, and yet...
Tenna must've hit his head when he was running through the woods, because Angel above he can't explain why he's acting this way. It's (so foreign to be cared for, his mind can't help but open to the opportunity) disgusting of him.
"Tenna." He grumbles, a usual sound from him at this point, and lays his head down. Spamton shuffles, Tenna can see a red eye looking up from the corner of his vision.
"S'that..?"
"My name." Tenna closed his eyes and prayed to the Angel he wasn't actually this gullible, even though it was his own choice to do all he had been doing.
"That's a pretty name, Tenna. I like it." Spamton's breath on his neck as he spoke made the hair on his body stand up, Tenna's teeth ground together as that feeling swirled in his chest.
He didn't respond, but Spamton clearly didn't expect him to. The man returned his head to its initial spot, a sigh escaping him as his body fell into Tenna's hold easily. Tenna's hand threaded through soft feathers as he closed his eyes, head tilting down to press into Spamton's hair.
It was so very intimate, Tenna couldn't explain why he did this. He had inklings of ideas, but nothing he could admit to himself that was true.
His entire life he had been pushed to the side, been the one uncared for. He grew used to it, accustomed to it. When he found his way into organized crime he fit in perfectly, he wasn't a person built to care. He built his own world around himself, walls upon walls of denial.
Who would've guessed a monster would make him rethink everything?
Spamton took over his thoughts every night now, he couldn't stop running over every little thing. Every gesture, every word, every action. He wished, wanted so badly, for something to stand out. Anything to justify his constant reminder Spamton was going to betray him, and kept coming up with Nothing.
He was a little mean, nothing Tenna couldn't handle but he enjoyed the bite back. It's been a long time since someone's called him names, it's not so bad when it's playful. The care he gave Tenna was the perplexing part, how casual yet sincere it felt. Spamton felt like an alien in his world, a being that shouldn't possibly be able to exist.
Someone so kind any past Tenna would've laughed at the thought someone like him could exist.
But Spamton does exist.
He's asleep in his arms now, breathing slow and steady. He stopped shaking shortly after they wound around one another, leaving Tenna with his thoughts as always.
Tenna does wonder if Spamton thinks about him, probably not as messy as he does.
In an instant, something clicks in Tenna's head, and it almost feels like his whole world shatters.
The feeling is different, but the situation is the same. Kris was Tenna's light, a reason to keep going. When crime became his outlet, he let his light go to keep it safe. Kris was better off without him, without the danger.
Spamton certainly wouldn't be this hospitable if he knew who he was, what he did. What he had done. Spamton would leave, or maybe he'd just kill him. The monster certainly was capable, Tenna knew that well.
If by some stroke of luck, if for some reason Spamton didn't care what he was, then Tenna would have to leave him. Tenna wasn't meant for happiness, he wasn't meant for peace. He resigned that away a long, long time ago.
Spamton would get hurt, he would die, or angel even worse.. maybe they'd string him up, like some freak show. Broadcasted across the world as the first monster found in hundreds of years. Rip his body apart, tear his very soul and being to shreds. And he couldn't do a thing, not when the world knew him as the monster he was. Spamton would be lumped in with him, and probably treated worse.
He wondered how he'll fair when he leaves, if Spamton will be ok. It's a funny thought, the man lived alone in the woods for much longer than he knew Tenna. He enjoyed his company though, somehow, and he'd probably miss him. Tenna wasn't someone to miss, but Spamton also seemed to ignore the clear sign he wasn't someone to be Liked either.
Everything about Spamton, every little damn thing was the antithesis of his life. Of everything he'd made himself to be.
A quiet voice, buried away in his mind, curled ahead of the rest. He didn't want to be alone again, not now with how much Spamton had burrowed into his mind.
It was funny, to feel so strongly for someone he barely knew, but that was how it was sometimes. People come into your life at random, and maybe you get lucky and that new person changes everything. Tenna wishes it hadn't happened, not to him, because it's something he knows he can't ever keep.
Certainly this isn't love (not yet, at least, which is a horrifying thought), but whatever it is matters to Tenna.
Finally, after days of denial of the most basic human emotions, Tenna lets himself admit it. He likes Spamton, the monster isn't so bad.
Tenna truly, somehow, liked someone.
What a funny thought.
He can hear the wind outside the walls, trees creaking and bending in response. He also hears Spamton snoring, although it's a very soft sound. It's almost like a tweet of some sort, and Tenna has to hold in a laugh once he realizes what it is. He probably snores himself, although he doesn't actually know, but Spamton will probably complain to him about it in the morning.
Will they even talk about this? Tenna.. Tenna certainly won't. He may have finally accepted he didn't hate the man, but that didn't mean he was ready to tell him that. Baby steps, or better yet no steps.
Tenna needs to keep Spamton at arms length, it'll be easier for them both when it all comes crashing down.
He can already feel himself failing at this as he burrows his face in those soft feathers. Spamton coos in his sleep, nestling in closer, and Tenna gives a rare smile.
Maybe pretending it'll end ok wouldn't be so bad. Humans were selfish creatures, and he was an exceptional one at that.
Tenna finally closed his eyes, his exhausted mind wasting no time drifting away to sleep.
He dreamed of flying tonight, talons wrapped around his shoulders tightly. Spamton took him to the clouds, he'd never felt so alive.
When Tenna awoke, the latch on the window was off, and Spamton was gone.