Spirit Animals Oneshots

Too Late

I haven't edited this much lol. Just found a whump prompt and wrote it I guess. So please do me a favor and ignore the choppy writing.

Tw: Blood, major character death, grief, and mentions of a gun.

< Lenori >

Conor's eyes were downcast, the uneasiness in his posture concealed by a continual fidget. The once eager young boy seems near void of joy, and curiosity gets the better of me. I know what it is to lose your spark, your soul, and even your humanity. 

He's drained of strength, and it seems as though his mind lacks any assurity. Conor is... remorseful. And I can't blame him. 

I have always taught that death is uncontrollable. You have no say in what is to happen or what will be. Even just taking Tarik's death into consideration is enough. I spent many sessions explaining to Rollan what kind of man he was, what kind of job he held. I did my very best to promise he hadn't caused any of it and over time he began to know it as true. 

But this time, I'm not sure I can convince Conor of the same. I haven't received the full story yet, I have only seen what it's done to him. It's eating the poor boy alive.

"Sweetheart." I offer gently, "are you ready to talk?"

He nods his head. "Yeah um, you said we're all given a position in life, right? I'm not worth headspace, back at home. I was a shepherd and a servant boy. I didn't impact anything." 

Conor stops as a pained expression flashes in his eyes, and he glances up at me. I gesture for him to continue. "And coming here- I um, for the first time I was something."

"How did that make you feel?"

"Like I could conquer worlds." He scoffs a little, placing a hand on Briggan's head. "But I think it made me lose sight of what was important." 

I take the words in, offering an empathetic smile. I understand more than he could ever know. "What about now, Conor?" 

"Everything's fallen apart and I don't know who I am or what I'm to do about it." He casts his eyes to the ground.

I take a deep breath, repositioning into a more comfortable position. "We start by going back to the beginning, then." 

"Rollan!!" Conor shouted out, swivelling around desperately.

He emerged from behind the tent, confusion playing across his face. "Okay, did someone die or something?"

"I found them," He cried triumphantly, disregarding Rollan's words. Conor slapped his fingers against the neatly folded paper in his hands. "I know where to find the missing kids. Forget orders, let's go dude!!"

He analyzed the shepherd boy's face a moment, a joking tone present in his voice. "I didn't take you for much of a rebel wolfboy. You've always striked me as an obedient little puppy."

"Oh fuck off. I'm being serious about this." Conor retaliated.

Rollan sighed, evaluating him for any hint of a doubt. "We can't."

"Are we talking about the same Rollan?" I question, raising an eyebrow.

Conor smiles a little, voice breaking as he speaks. "It took me by surprise. Orders have never really been his thing, and I asked him what he meant by it. His- his response was that we were told not to engage. But I- But I pushed farther than that."

He searched Rollan's face for any break of character or breech of integrity. Nothing. "We have to. The second team is far too behind, there's no way the kids will get saved in time man. It'll be too late." Conor exclaimed incredulously.