The Importance of Moss.

The Importance of Moss 6.

Now, there’s probably some confusion as to why it’s so bad that ‘Cyrus’ is from the troop Corrigan. This will be because not everyone understands the troops of fairies and which ones are dangerous and not to be messed with, and which ones were the nice ones which could get alone with everyone. Now, the troop Corrigan is one of the most well known of the fae troops out there and this is not because they are the most loving and nice troops around it is because they’re the opposite of that. Some troops believe that they’re evil spirits or demons condemned to live on the Earth for wrong doings, but other troops know that they’re just scary and something to be feared. They’re the ones that bring on the battles and they’re the ones who win at the end with no exception.

So how did this, shy, little half-winged creature once belong to such a fearsome group as the Corrigan’s? It didn’t make any sense, nothing about him made any sense to the other troop, but for such a timid thing to be from such an awfully frightening troop as the Corrigan’s, well, that was practically insane and he must be lying there was simply no other explanation than it must be a damn lie.

“You’re lying,” states Kier, though he’s a little more reserved in his statement now. It’s not obvious that he’s scared, but he’s not being as forward as he had been before and it makes Cyrus raise his eyebrows slightly because he noticed it. Noticed how he’s not as forward now that he knows the troop he’s from. The one with honey hair shakes his head and speaks to the troop by himself instead of having Drew parrot it for him.

“You’re not sure with your statement. You’re contradicting yourself. You’re being more careful now you know that I am indeed from that troop. If you sincerely believed that I was not a part of the troop you would be as forward and angry as you were before, but alas, you’ve moved back and you’re speaking more carefully,” he states out loud and his voice is what Drew remembers and he classes it as awesome, and he tries not to feel impressed about the Corrigan member that he’s brought back, but damn, he just stood up to Kier. “So, tell me, do you truly believe that I was not, previously, a member of the troop in which I stated to be mine?”

Everyone is shocked. Why was he not speaking through Drew anymore, and holy shit, he is actually from that troop—and he basically just shot one of their troop leaders down. Someone should do something to save the troop leaders’ honour but nobody moves and everyone is frozen. Kier looks up, eyebrows scrunched together, and eyes glinting a pale red and he looks dangerous but he’s no threat compared to this Corrigan. “Proof. I want proof. Corrigan’s have marks on their arms, line with a shorter line going flat across. It’s red and black,” Kier speaks calmly, staring over to the one with green wings.

Cyrus moved his wings slightly as he moved forwards, pushing the sleeve of his clothes up to  his elbow, and following along the pale green lines is a thick red and black line, with a flat line of solid black sliding through the middle in a cross. “Enough proof?” he murmured, and he’s speaking gentler now and there’s a pale pink flushing over his cheeks as he pulled the sleeve back down over his forearm to cover up the markings of his old troop.

“Yes,” murmured Kier, in silent shock. He shuffled back, pressing up against the white-winged troop leader and pressed his head of firey red against the others’ shoulder.

The tree goes silent because people are trying to decide how they should be reacting and if they should be asking more questions. Drew’s sat up next to Cyrus again, their shoulders are touching and it’s probably annoying the male from the Corrigan troop but if it was he wasn’t saying anything, just keeping his wings tucked back so they don’t tangle in the blue ones of the blonde. 

Luke speaks, and maybe he should have thought his question through, because it sounds fairly rude when he does ask it. “Why aren’t you with them now, then?” and it wasn’t purposely mean, but it was and the half-wings face goes unhappy, this frown between his eyebrows and his lips dipping down slightly. His face flashes with something and for a second the green of his eyes switches to this solid black, the colour of oil and then it changes back, pale green, the colour of leaves. His hands push against the ground and he’s pushing out of the entrance with an indignant attitude and no care. 

With the Corrigan gone the troop looks around at each other with these big eyes, and then all eyes are on Drew, who kind of shrinks back into himself and scrunches his arms around his knees and tucks his wings around himself in this protective curtain against his own troop.

“Drew! You let a Corrigan into our home!” squeaks Laurence, eyes widened and it would be comical if it were any other time. But it wasn’t. The dark haired one skittered over to the blue-winged one and sat in front of him, grabbing onto his arms and pulling them from around his legs, and blue wings flair out in shock at being touched. Drew looked up to Laurence.

“Are you mad?” he whispered. He sounded like a child that was scared of his own parents. His eyes were wide and they looked like tears were going to bead and fall down if he got a few seconds without some reassurance that all was well.

Laurence, always the mother figure, shushed the blonde and cupped his cheek with this gentle hand. “No, no, honey, its fine- nobody’s mad at you,” he mumbled, looking into those eyes to make sure that those threatening tears won’t fall. Laurence brushed back some stray blonde hairs and glanced around at the troop so that they would say that they weren’t mad. They shouldn’t be- at least, not to Drew’s face, they could be as soon as he wasn’t around.

The dark haired troop leader shuffled around to sit by Drew’s side, and circled his own wings around himself so not to get them tangled with the blue pair that spread out, and one pulled around Laurence’s side and the other stayed around himself in this protective manner. Drew rested his head up against Laurence’s shoulder and they sat like that for a while, and Kier slid out of the tree, flaring his wings out as soon as he was outside.

He held his fur tighter around himself and saw the half-wing trying to fly away but it was sad, because he simply couldn’t and that was kind of sad. How could one call themselves fae if they could not fly? He walked over, letting his wings drop just slightly, the tips trailing along the ground as he walked up to Cyrus who had huffed onto the floor with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and a frown between his eyebrows.

Kier sat next to him and stared off into the distance like the Corrigan was, and he wondered if he wanted to fly out to that point in the distance and he couldn’t blame him. He was stuck with a weird troop, ones that didn’t even like him. Why wouldn’t he want to escape from this place that he had been brought to? But how could he? Would he walk all the way to that dot in the distance or keep trying to fly all the damn time until he got more than a hover off the ground?

“What do you want?” the honey-haired boy asks quietly, turning his head to look at the troop leader. He didn’t understand why he was sitting with him, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted him there either. He was rude and unpleasant, and his eyes were slightly unsettling.

The troop leader shrugs. He doesn’t know why he came out here. It could have been because he didn’t like seeing Laurence all cuddled up with Drew or it could have been because he wanted to know more about this guy.

“I don’t know.”

A/N: I am llistening to My Chemical Romance and it's sad because they broke up just when I started loving them. Sigh. I am going to try and write a Frerard one-shot based on The Purge because that pairing is undeniably gorgeous, and also, The Purge has an awesome concept which I would like to work on.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, and I hope I explained what a corrigan is well enough!! :) Thank you for reading, everyone.