The Stray

The Long Way Home, Pt. 4

"I'm sorry." She mumbled into the back of his hood.

"Don't..." Timothy panted, "Don't worry about it. It's a long walk, n' you're a townie."

"No, I mean... I'll make this up to you. I promise."

Yeah, sure. He shook his head, barely listening. "Just keep holding on tight."

For a time, they walked in silence. Meri began to shiver, and he could see her resisting trying to breathe fire on herself. Again, his heart went out to her. Though he was exhausted and needed every bit of strength he had left, he stopped for a painful moment to weave a blanket of heat energy around her. The fire energy glowed faintly, warming her and trapping her heat. The littlun snuggled up to his back in thanks.

"When we get there, you should stay for dinner. I-I can hear how much your stomach's rumbling."

Timothy tripped over his own walking sticks and nearly fumbled into a tree. "You can hear that?"

"Dragons have big ears." He felt a little breeze tickle his hood as she probably flapped'em. "My mom's a really good cook. She cooks for an army, so there'd be plenty for you." She shook a little on his back, and he almost turned up the heat spell before realizing it wasn't the cold. "She was gonna make my favorite tonight. Autumn poli stew. With veggies and potatoes, and fresh bread, and apple cider, and brownies..." Timothy swallowed hard to avoid drooling. To have all of that at once almost didn't seem possible. For him, it never had been. What would it be like, never to worry about food? He could spend a whole season working until his hands were raw and spirit spent every day and still end each night hungry. The thought made his steps slower and heavier.

"What, is today a holiday?" He finally managed, swallowing a mouthful of drool.

"No, Mom just loves to cook. And has to feed four dragons an' a slime." Meri giggled sleepily. He just couldn't fathom it. Even back home, his mom and him rarely had more than some vegetables and, if they could afford it or kill it, some stewed monster tripe. Even the thought of that made his stomach rumble these days, though, and the memory of his mother's cooking weighed heavy on his heart.

"What's your favorite food?" Meri asked, missing his soft distress.

And it was the bitterness that bubbled up that made his answer "Whatever garbage I can scrape together in this waste of a wood. Can't eat half the frass here." He regretted his outburst as soon as it left his mouth, though. Witches don't throw hunger tantrums! Not to mention...

"But, that means..." she gasped. "You gave me most of th' food you had, like, in the house, didn't you?"

"Y-yeah. I can manage fine on just this, though." His stomach rumbled. "Done it before, 'll do it again."

"But, but, you've been carrying me! And protecting and guiding me, and, and—" Her claws suddenly clutched his shoulders hard enough to make him gasp. Timothy didn't answer, instead focusing on putting one foot ahead of the other. Meri's sniffles turned into outright crying. Aw, no! "I screwed up everything today! I got you into a fight! I ate all your food, and you had to waste a day looking after me! A-and my moms are probably worried sick, and my sister's gonna be so mad, and my big brother's gonna be disappointed in me!" She took several shuddering breaths. "And nobody's called! Even with my bracelet broken, they should be able to call me, at least! Are they that mad?"

And she wound up sobbing into the back of his neck. Well, frass. The witch didn't know what to do. The Streneli in him said it's her fault, and she has to learn somehow. After all, here he was hauling her through the woods instead of gathering food to try and survive this winter. But the gentle, witchy part of him that had lived alone and been hungry and tired and miserable, the part that remembered every moment of his life here, said: She doesn't deserve this, even though it is her fault. The better part of him, the part that never forgot being cold, small, and utterly alone.

And the part of him that always felt like a bad person, and was just sick with guilt now, stood up and answered. "Meri, sweetie... it's all right." He said, in a voice so low only her ears could have heard. "It's not as bad as all that."

"B-but, but—"

"You're alive, littlun. And before you say anythin', sometimes you ain't that lucky." In a gentler tone, he added, "I've made plenty of mistakes too, and mine cost more, and never got better." Man, that was an understatement.... "Today, you made a bad decision. But you lived, y'know? You lived to learn from it, and the worst that's come of it can all be fixed. And your family's probably been trying to call all day, if I understand your spell correctly. The Deepshadow's a harsh place, and you ain't seen the really weird junk yet. They might just not be able to get the spell to you."

"But, but... What if they're so mad that, that, they won't..." Meri sniffled. Timothy sighed. And not for the first time, he wished he were a better witch.

"Your family is probably upset, but only because they love you so much they can't lose you. And this won't change that. A good family's like that."

Meri sniffled.

"You're not a bad person, sweetie, far from it." And he meant it. "Probably the nicest one I've met in... a long time. You've been nice to someone like me, even. Don't ever say that kinda stuff about yourself. You made a bad call, but you're still a good person."

"Timothy..." The little dragoness sighed, and lay her head against him once more. "Thank you."

Timothy smiled, and thanked his gran for her lessons. "That's what witches are for."

For a time, they walked in silence. Her weight truly began to exhaust him, and he had to struggle for each step.

"You never did tell me your story." She finally said. Aw, come on, Timothy groaned internally, now you remember that?

"Well, there's not really a lot to tell you." He wheezed, trying to force breath down his throat.

"You promised, though." Meri murmured. "And I wanna hear it."

Timothy opened his mouth, but when he tried to form the words, or any words, they wouldn't come. Yeah, he could have been like the elders back home and told her off. Y'know, to shut up and mind her own business, and crud like that. But he never wanted to turn into them. Plus, the kid had earned a little indulgence, right? But where would he even begin?

...And what was that crackling sound?

"Oh, frass!"

Timothy dropped to the ground and projected a solid black barrier of darkness, only faintly translucent enough to see through. And not a moment later, a brilliant bolt of blue lightning blazed through where his head and Meri's had been not a second earlier. Timothy's heart turned to ice as the darkness slowly filled back in.

The Voltcage was here. Now they were in for it.