Roses and Thorns

23- What He Couldn't Find

It's not often I see Blitz and Morgan out about the town, much less in the abandoned former infirmary, but there they are. Morgan runs her muzzle down the old, molded over wood while Blitz sniffs the damp air with revulsion. They both look miserable.

"What are you doing out here today?" I ask, trying not to break the door on the way in. The rotted old thing doesn't swing properly on its hinges and a large chunk of the bottom is torn straight off, letting the cold in.

Blitz and Morgan shudder as they look to each other for council, but come up with little. Blitz looks to the Pantry, visible through a hole in the wall. "Wouldn't want to interrupt Rye while she's grieving."

"Did someone die?" In more of a hushed tone, I ask, "This isn't the Asha ordeal, is it?"

The Asha ordeal still haunts all of our memories, but in the last half month, things have at least settled down. 'Normal' might have a hollow ring to it, but it's there to cling on for us as long as we need it.

"No one's dead yet. Ivy and Rye were having an argument."

Morgan taps the wall, accidentally punching a hole straight through it. Her ears flatten and she taps the rest on Blitz's back instead, which he hardly seems to mind.

Blitz translates, "Rye's a bit dramatic when she's tense."

"We're all tense right now." I reply. "Why are you in here? This thing is swaying like Nimbus after a drink off."

"We thought this would be a good place to hide it out." Blitz admits, and Morgan nods.

"That bad?" I recall the Ivy and Anassa fight of long ago with a bitter taste in my mouth. "I don't know if I can handle this racket again." My sister, drenched in smoke and poison, comes to the forefront of my mind.

"That's all your worried about?"

"No," I admit. I don't know if she can handle this racket again. Taking a deep breath, I ask, "Where is she?"

"Ivy or Rye?" Blitz tilts his head.

"Ivy. I want to talk to her."

"Your old tree, last I saw."

I nod. "You two should get out. There are other places to be unproductive, significantly less dangerous ones." I step over the door, which has now fallen off the hinges, and feel a splinter of wood wedge itself up my paw. Grimacing, I tug it out and continue, the soreness irritating but not quite painful. Blitz and Morgan shuffle out behind me, and the wood structure, so dark it almost looks black, sighs and creaks, empty again.

Our tree is not much better off. It hasn't started rotting yet, preserved by the cold, but it outline is decimated, the wind making the branches fickle before cracking them to pieces. Its surviving branches have furled up slightly, and it smells of earth and death.

Shea's lying on top of it, on a higher branch with her body expertly woven through the offshoots. Her claws are out, running slowly over the bark and I can see the light glint on each one as I grow closer. "What?" she asks. Her eyes shine a magnificent gold and her stripes make her look larger than she really is, more threatening. Her beauty is sharp and dangerous, and it's not hard to see my sister being taken by it.

I stop staring and answer, "I'm here to see Ivy. She's here, isn't she?"

"Naturally," Shea scoffs. "Other side of the log. Will I be interrupting?"
"Yes," I say without hesitation. "Why are you even here?"

"She broke up with me, Eudica." She spreads out on the tree. "I thought I'd keep her company, if she'd have it. Hasn't spoken out yet, so..."
"Might have been the bit where you said she was incapable of feeling for anyone." I retort. I have no sympathy for her, but when she jumps down from the tree, her expression is all too familiar. Past fights. Things said in a moment of weakness. The sensation of the past being grabbed from under you, knowing that a thick wall of ice separates you and it.