Beneath The Fleece

Goodbye

Morning comes quickly, following a restless night of tossing and turning. My head aches with the swirl of thoughts flitting about it. After my fight with Sebastian we had talked for what seemed like hours, nestled in the cool, pricking grass. I cried until my eyes felt as dry as the Crouassa desert. Bash's first instinct was to console and reassure me, like always. He even went as far as to tell me about a land just outside the kingdom. One who openly encourages relationships of any kind. A land that empowers it's people, most of all its women.

His eyes had sparkled like freshly polished topaz and a small smile pulled at his lips, tipping them upward. It were as though he was reminiscing. The thought sparked a deep curiosity in me, was this a place he had actually beheld himself? Despite knowing Bash like the back of my hand most of his past was a mystery to me. His muscle corded arms held me tightly in a warm embrace the entire time he spoke, stroking small circles along my back. The ache in my chest had almost disappeared entirely by the time we separated, making our way inside.

My mind, body and very soul were exhausted as I fell into bed, hitting the firm mattress in a heap. The metal had groaned loudly in protest and continued to do so as I rolled about. A rapid fluttering in my chest had kept me awake. I couldn't stop thinking about the way Bash had held me so closely, my cheeks felt like the flames of the forge itself had licked up them. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was mildly unsettling, Bash was my best friend and nothing more.By the time sunlight filtered in through my window I had barely slept a wink. A loud rapping at my door had me groaning.

"No." I cry out. "Go away."

"Don't ya want to see your old man off then?" A bark of deep laughter sounds beyond the slated wood.

I snap up at the mention of his departure, cursing under my breath as I scramble out of bed. My limbs clumsily tangle together within the thin wool blanket wrapped around me. It sends me flying when I swiftly attempt to get out of bed, my body crashing onto the floor in a heap. My old man kicks open the door, amusement gleaming in his eyes.

"What the hell!" I snarl at him.

"Rise and shine." He bellows, mirth filling his features at the sight of me sprawled across the cold hard floor boards.

"I was rising." I says sourly. "Now, I'm definitely not shining." I frown at him for emphasis.

"Bah, you will once ya're free of me a while." He chuckles. "Do ya need help?" He holds a big meaty palm out to me.

"Yes." I sigh, running a hand down my face, before allowing him to heave me to my feet.

Once up and situated, my father helps me slid into the matte, brown binding. The thick material allows me to shift into a wolf in sheep's clothing. We secure it into place overtop of my worn night shirt. The garment falls to mid thigh and has strap style sleeves, only a few finger lengths wide. The material is colored with age, because it's hard for us to get our hands on more of them. Only women wear them, beneath their dresses and as night gowns for bed. It would likely draw unneeded attention if three '"men" we're procuring them. Unlike Sebastian my father isn't gentle in his ministrations, squeezing until I think my chest in going to crack and my lungs seem to collapse.

"F-fuck." I wheeze.

"I'll meet ya downstairs." He pats my head softly.

"P-pisss O-off " I struggle to get out,  swatting at his arm and pushing it away from me in a huff.

I watch his hulking form retreat, hating that he is still treating me like a child. It takes a few minutes of adjusting before I am able to easily suck in air. When it doesn't feel as though I may black out from lack of oxygen, I quickly pull an oversized gray tunic out of my closet and slip the soft material over my head. The cotton garment is light compared to my normal attire, but considering the days are growing warmer I need to wear something cooler.