Roses and Thorns

Hearth

I can think of no better way to spend the darkest nights of the year than by a fire.

Anue's house is one of the few capable of supporting a fireplace without burning the whole thing down. The stone exterior keeps the flames contained, though heat that pours from it and makes me feel warm and dry down to the bone.

Ace and I smell like smoke for most of the starving moons.

I walk shivering tonight, my claws clattering on the hard floor. I fall into the blankets besides the hearth, just to the left of Asha. "Food." I say, bundling blankets about me with my paws. "Please."

"We haaave chestnuts." Ace says, as if I'd been there the whole night. He offers me a pan, then decides to slide it across the floor. The chestnuts are mahogany with a gloss to them, with slits cut into the tops. They emit a rich, tantalizing odor. "Careful, they're hot."

I pick one up with my teeth and crunch, sending the flavor through my mouth. When I attempt to swallow it, a sharp piece of shell lodges itself in my throat. I cough several times, the sharp pain unbearable, and a tiny fleck of shell flies into the fire and is quickly devoured.

"Have to get the shell off." Ace tosses me another bowl, which contains a few chestnut shells and some crumbs. "Spit it out in there."

I try again, this time biting and wedging the inner nut out with my teeth and spitting the rest out. It takes a bit of practice to get used to, but I think I have it down. The taste is earthy: not quite pleasant, but not awful either. I eat a few more out of courtesy and hunger before stretching the blankets out with my back paws and sinking into them.

Asha breathes softly, belly up and half asleep, while Ace watches the fire. He reaches a paw over and drags the chestnuts back. The sound of his teeth cracking the nut open and the humming noise of the fire grow louder as we all laze about and enjoy the heat.

The room smells of incense sticks beneath the overwhelming heat, which is pleasant if a bit morbid. There's a new painting of the whole family on the wall, purchased from a travelling artist not long ago. They look like a small, peculiar rainbow of tails and bright eyes, and the painter's vivid colors dye them all immortal.

"You're quiet tonight." Ace notices.

Worry returns to my mind like a storm of bees. "It's over."

"Anassa and Ivy?" Ace guesses, surprise and pity in his tone.

"It didn't work out, I suppose." I shrug it off. "I just can't believe it happened so fast. Like embers in a hearth, crackling in and out of existence."

"Just like our lives." Asha yawns, stretching her paws out as if to meet her flame. The fire reflects back in her eyes and makes her look older, more dangerous. "Nothing lasts forever."

"Asha." Ace's tone is firm and steady, and his blue eyes, though calm, hold a sad authority. "Please leave us alone. I promise I'll be with you in the morning."

She tilts her head, then gets up. "It's cold," she complains.

"Asha." he repeats.

"Ace." She mocks his voice, dull with irritation. She's a sneaky little parakeet.

Ace tilts his head and brings out the big, wide puppy eyes. "Asha."

Asha turns her head dramatically, and her ears swing in a wide curve. "Fine, but in the morning you're going to take me on a bear ride all around the Glade."

"Deal."

She prances out of the room and Ace watches her through the window, shoulders tense and snout angled upwards so he can just see her without getting up. When we hear the distant click of their door, Ace relaxes again.