Feudal Phase

Abscond

 Aster went throughout the house at dusk, while everyone was still at the next endmeal, shoving things into their little bag made of their bedsheet, which was poorly knit (by Aster, who had been kindly relegated to tasks such as 'fetching raw material' and 'staying out of the way' as soon as they had become old enough to attend to domestic work) and so full of holes that Aster ended up picking out some flat, faulty breads just to patch up the holes. Aster knew full well anything could be fixed by adding water or coral dust to it, or by smearing fruit on it. Food wasn't really a concern. They were raiding the Siida pantry because it tasted good, and if they were going to go on an excursion, they didn't want to come back to ask nicely if they could have something that hadn't come out of the ground in the last few hours.

An Owai padded through the house and sat at Aster's feet. Aster crinkled up their nose and tried to move the animal out of the way, but it tilted its head insistently, then nipped their leg. Aster considered nipping it right back, like they did when they wrestled the Owai when they were young. "You can come," Aster said, instead. They took an extra bit of bread out of the pantry and fed it directly to the Owai. They ruffled its fur, affectionately, and cooed a little. The Owai's stumpy tail waved with excitement. Aster and their new companion trotted through the house at the very tips of their feet, Aster's ears twitching slightly with every moment. They barely had any "ear" around the earholes, but they fully intended to grow something out as an adult, like Cyspel's beautiful fins. They had always preferred the Owai ears, long, thin, and flexible, loved the way that they cocked like those of the Owai at their feet did now. The Owai bolted up, not with fear but with excitement, and its stump of a tail began to swing.

Cyspel stood in the door. Between their hair and their outspread fins, they managed to take out all the light in the room, so that all that followed in behind them was darkness. Aster stared upwards, as they had stared, at times, directly into the blue light of the sun, and with a defiant pout took it upon themselves to stop the shaking in their legs. Cyspel, who had, perhaps as a courtesy to Aster, pretended to notice none of this, asked gently, "Do you think you could have done this at a nicer hour, Aster?"
Aster stiffened. "Done what?"
Cyspel sighed. "You tell me what you intend to do."
Aster looked at their feet. Their gaze darted up to Cyspel, then back to their feet again. At last, they admitted, "I'm going."

"After Ophelia?"

"Just going." Aster frowned at Cyspel's apparent relief, obvious from the relaxed fins and the too-loud sigh which followed. Aster scuffed the ground with one foot. With a sudden frenzy of new energy, they tried to wedge themself around Cyspel, who caught their halfway in the door by moving slightly to the side. Aster, now pinned against the organic shape of the door, clawed at the busted old stone which made up half the entrance, but to little avail. "Let me go, Cyspel!"

"It's late. Quiet down."

"Let me go!" Aster's voice only pitched up, this time deliberately.

Cyspel released Aster. As soon as the tiny panta scampered across the other room, Cyspel had knocked them to the ground and put their hand on their mouth to keep them from screaming. Aster exhaled angrily out of their nose, fearing the worst, their legs, their only defense, locked against them. The little bit of ear they did have tilted back in distress. As their breathing calmed, they were able to hear Cyspel's, just as fast as their own and now that they noticed it, really noticed it, equally as pained. Aster nudged herself closer to Cyspel's scaled skin, noting how the scales that were once so uniform were now beginning to pile atop each other, trying to edge their siblings out of the pattern. Old plates which symbolized Cyspel's protective nature, as well as the care they'd once received at the hands of older Siida who were now long gone, rubbed uncomfortably against each other, fault lines ready to erupt. Cyspel was old. They couldn't have more than two years left, maybe significantly less than that.