The Boy and the Animal

Part I | Twelve

'Maybe' was all he had to say. From then on, I didn't have to worry about where we would go or if what I was doing was justified. All I focused on was bringing the boy I knew was inside out of Jesiter.

A mild winter spilled into a cool spring, the leaves sprouting once again. Jesiter bloomed just as brightly as those flowers, as well. At but a few months until his one year anniversary of becoming my necessary and beloved prisoner, the boy had grown by leaps and bounds.

By the time the flowers ignited across the fields and homes that surrounded the city, he was already maturing into a reasonable young man- compared to the vicious barbarian that had first graced my path. He let me put clothes on him, and after some time- about a long, agonizing month of  putting them back on him over and over again-he actually kept them on. At dinner, he ate off of plates at a spare table my brother brought down for us.

More and more, I found, he was copying my words, pronouncing them with me sometimes hours on end as I showed him pictures. He managed to grasp the vocabulary of a young child, and what he couldn't say he recognized when I spoke them. Among the adorable words he muttered with that sweet voice of his were "nap", "hi", "hungry", and, of course, Cyrus. Right, and, most frustrating of all, "NO!"

But with every step backward, Jesiter took three forward. Toward what? Well, my mother.

During the winter, my brother showed me a letter my mother sent him. It detailed how she was worried about me, not having seen me since I had left for the bounty. I had seen her many times, though in secret, from behind bushes and atop the city gates to check on her, but, of course, she had yet to see me. All she knew was that I was supposedly looking for a wife.

Knowing how much she worried for me, I knew I couldn't idle any longer. That night, I made a goal for Jesiter and I. By my mother's birthday, I would have him ready to show- as my fiancée.

The thought of it then put a spring in my heart and step... Until I realized just how much work would have to go into it. He didn't have to be perfect, I certainly wasn't nor was anyone in my family, but he did have to be presentable. That included keeping his clothes on, using forks, knives, and spoons, not growling at strangers, and at least being able to say his own name.

The morning of her birthday, we had everything down- except the silverware, but at least he wasn't using his hands or feet anymore. I dressed him in a party gown with rose-colored trim that my brother gave me from a clumsy inn patron who'd forgotten it. For the only spare minute that I had, I admired the figure that wore it so well, and I noticed that- while he was rather uncomfortable in the form-fitting, long gown- he did his best in it.

The next moment, however, I went back to fumbling over him. Wild, unkempt black hair bowed to my will- after an hour of his whining and punching me as the comb tore through his hair; he still didn't like scissors, so I hadn't been given the chance to cut the mane.

His nails were washed... Then rewashed when he decided to pet the cows. Bath, shoes that he needed extra sweet-talking and bribery to wear, and dusting and refreshing his lessons and two panic attacks and four wardrobe malfunctions later and he was-

Standing in the inn, after calling Jesiter from the basement to show him off to Dark, I was caught with a heavy sob in my throat.

Cyrus held his chest, the feverish area burning up from the painful and pleasant swelling heat coursing through him. The boy staring back at him with those vivacious, yet coy eyes was nothing like the feral creature he rescued from the clutches of darkness. No, this boy was alive- alive in the vivid and childlike sense that I hadn't felt since my father left. His heart was kind, pure, and his eyes... I shivered.

Those eyes were  the color of quiet, lazy afternoons.

"W-Well then, um," I began, biting my lip to keep back tears, "why don't we get going then, huh?"

Jesiter nodded and took my hand to follow me to the front door of the inn, growling low in his chest as he passed Dark- as per usual. I was pretty sure the man flicked him off, but I was too preoccupied with seeing my mother to care. When my hand touched the handle of the door, though, I wavered. I turned back to peer at my brother, who was watching us with a small smile.

"Dark..." I muttered. The question I was going to ask... I already knew the answer to, but it still needed to be asked. "It's her birthday. I'm sure she'd love to see you much more than me. Why don't you come along?"

Just as I thought, Dark lowered his head and turned away to find something to clean his bar. "Thanks, but," he paused, a frown momentarily hijacking his smile, "you ought to go without me."

I nodded.

With the door closed between us, I took Jesiter's hand tighter and maneuvered him through a weaving crowd of strangers on our way through the city; and would you believe my baby didn't growl or hiss at them once! I could feel his tension through our hands, but he followed behind in his best behavior as I greeted those that called my name- waved at now married ladies who could only swoon with their eyes.

We passed through before too much dallying had passed, and, by the time we reached the gates, I found that we had some to spare. As we headed through, I handed Jesiter a piece of candy and praised him for being so well-behaved. He mewed.

I found that running around with the boy felt so... Natural. Now that we were so close, clinging to each other like crutches, it was easy to forget where the boy had come from- that we had ever been apart. Just the two of us, I ran through the flowers and tall grass with him, hiding and jumping out to tickle him. He would laugh and kick me in the gut. Gods, his laugh. I had never heard such a beautiful sound before.

Eventually, after remembering the time, I wrapped my arms around his hips and pulled him out of the grass, eliciting a squealing laugh from him. It pulled a laugh from me, as well, and I took his hand once again. My heart fluttered like hundreds of butterflies flapping in my chest as I held him- and his sweet hands held me. My mother's house seemed almost too close.

It came, however, and we stopped at her door, hand-in-hand. The butterflies threw up from spinning so wildly now that I was there. I took a deep breath and placed my hand at the door, but I stopped. A swallow turned my throat. What was this sudden nervousness, I wondered with half a thought.

Jesiter squeezed my hand.

Suddenly, all the fear and anxiety that had taken hold of me disappeared, and I breathed again. I knocked on the door.