Hellbeast

14

1142 words

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Damen hadn't been sick since he was a child. And yet he felt the motions of illness crawling up his skin and phasing itself into his bones, making them weary and aching. His spine rendered him completely unable to sit up straight and so he slumped every time he tried to move. He wanted to keep going. Ciril insisted that he needed rest and assured him a couple of days wouldn't be enough to lose their target completely. The dream had haunted Damen ever since he gained consciousness. Weakly, he had told Ciril about his nightmare. The elf sat quietly near the fire, deep in thought. "He could be in danger. It is strange that you are dreaming about him when you haven't known him for long."

Red, orange, and yellow leaves drifted earthward around them. Fall was coming and with it brought the scene of decay and the need for a deep slumber. A wolf like Damen didn't need to hibernate, but he knew he was growing more lethargic the colder it got. Ciril had noticed it as well, traveling at slower distances for him to keep pace. Damen tried his hardest to keep up with the lithe elf. Hours of walking weren't felt by either as they had trained to be as strong as possible for their nations. It wasn't until a small squeak and a thud sounded that Damen even associated back to where he currently was. He turned, looming over his smaller companion that had tripped and fallen over. Ciril held his ankle with a twisted face, displaying irritation and wisps of pain.

The wolf crouched down to examine the red and quickly-bruising skin. Gentle, tan fingers roamed against the soft flesh and attempted to fix the twist until pale hands stopped them. "It'll heal on its own. It will only take some time." With bated breath he added, "I-I can do it myself." Damen's forest green eyes pierced Ciril's unsure ones. Without wasting another second, he hefted the elf up onto his back and continued walking. Spluttering, the red-eared elf gripped tightly onto his shoulders. "W-what in the seven heavens are you doing??" Then a pause. Damen took the silence as an excuse to ask his own question, accompanied by a tilt of his head.

"I thought Elves did not believe in the afterlife?" Ciril broke out of his momentary fascination to say, "We have our own beliefs. Did you always have these ears on top of your head? I have never noticed them before.." He was, of course, referencing to the two fluffy brown ears resting on top of Damen's head, twitching at any slight sound. "They have always been there." Apparently, Ciril was simply too small to have noticed the prominent furry appendages until lifted to a higher elevation. "Can I.. touch them.." If Damen was uncomfortable he didn't show it. Instead his ears just twitched curiously and he hummed. "If that would please you." And it sure did please Ciril.

When the moon started rising, Damen stopped walking. The small elf had fallen asleep later in the day and clung onto the wolf's back for most of the time. Soft breaths had tickled against Damen's neck for hours, surprisingly easing the mind of the shifter. He was now in a town bustling with life. The humid midnight air clung to his skin and formed droplets of sweat that trickled down his chest. Although Damen had not visited people in a long time, he found an inn, settled for a room, and paid with Ciril's pouch of coins. He only hoped the elf wouldn't be too upset when he woke up.

He settled Ciril onto one of the beds and covered him with a soft blanket. His ankle had taken a turn for the worse during their long trek, and now needed medical attention. He left a small note on the bedside table. Damen locked the door to their room and left to find a healer. A busy town was not what he was used to, but it didn't take much to find someone who sold medicine. He asked a nice-looking older woman if she knew of someone like that in the vicinity and she kindly directed him to a small hut on the outskirts of the central area. The healer there gave Damen an ointment to rub on the ankle, as well as something to alleviate the pain.

When the wolf returned to their room on the third floor he didn't think to knock. He quietly opened the door and froze in his place at the sight before him. Ciril sat naked on his bed with his back facing him. A white towel moved steadily down his legs to dry any stray water droplets. A few escaped and Damen watched with a dry mouth as they slipped down his pale, smooth legs and onto the floor. There wasn't a single mark on the elf's body, only unblemished skin and soft muscle. The towel was now being used to dry the ends of his moonlight blonde hair. After he was done, he dropped the towel and turned. Plush pink lips parted in surprise and roses bloomed on Ciril's cheeks. Damen faintly recalled them being such beautiful flowers, but incomparable to Ciril.

The wolf closed the door behind him and averted his eyes to the beds. "I'm sorry. I should have knocked." He heard the elf slide on a robe and hum. "It's fine. Did you bathe yet? They have hot water." Ciril faintly smelled of rose petals and jasmine oil. "I haven't. I will soon." The blond turned to face him and looked up curiously. "Did you like what you saw?" A question so unexpected it almost knocked Damen off his feet. "E-excuse me?" He turned to face his partner. Damen's blood felt hot as he could only stand and hope that it wasn't present on his face.

"I asked if you enjoyed viewing my body. Was it to your liking?" The boldness was unfathomable on someone Damen had viewed as stoic and demure. He inched closer and sat on his knees in front of Ciril. Gently, the shifter grabbed his injured foot and let the vial of ointment drip onto skin. Deft fingertips rubbed the liquid meaningfully onto every bit of bruised skin. He felt Ciril's eyes watch his movements. He thanked the gods that the elf chose to stay quiet and let him work. Damen didn't know how much teasing he could take before he responded in a starving manner. He pressed another vial into Ciril's hands. "This is for the pain. Please take some." And with that, he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. If he had looked up, he would've seen the hungriness in Ciril's eyes. And the red of his cheeks that had never left.