Etienne had helped Mahler to get Anselm back and he stayed away from the cavern and the boy. Trying to pull the fraying edges together. Everything was falling apart and he didn't know what to do or say.
So instead he just helped where he could. Continued to fill ca hes. Learn of medicinal herbs. He had done what he could, but he realized his knowledge was surely lacking.
Today after a hunt and a small border patrol of their current place. He lay atop a rock the sun splashing along the brown and tawny of his fur. Eyes closed in silent pleasure at the warmth. Humming a soft sea shanty.
Things at home had changed around Anselm, some without his consent. His family was fracturing. His health was failing him. While he was healing, it was slow — and he still did not feel his best.
As he sipped from the running waters of the hollow’s stream, he heard a soft song weave its way through the autumn-stricken trees. Anselm considered the voice - it was distinctly Etienne’s.
He should be grateful for the packmate that saved his life — but Anselm’s feelings about Etienne were conflicting. Ironic then, was the fact that other than his family, Etienne was all that remained.
He wiped his lips and walked slowly towards the voice, spying Etienne laid out like a sphinx on top of a stone that sat gilded by rays of autumn splendor.
Slowly, slowly Anselm was getting better, moving about. His father Etienne imagined had more to do that than him. And for that he was glad. Because then perhaps Anselm would take to the healing better, quicker if it weren't the sea borne.
Etienne too was conflicted by the pretty face boy. He hated him and how he treated him, and he hated himself for knowing he deserved better and couldn't leave. And yet he saw Anselm when he wasn't around. And it seemed to be just him the youth hated. Perhaps he should consider going back to manman and Suzu.
Golden eye poped open as he felt a gaze on brown fur. Blinked. Then closed again.
'Ello Anselm.
One gold-minted eye appraised Anselm. His fur rippled, and an electric current ran from his stomach down.
There were a thousand things he could say. Thanks for saving me. Hey I’ve been a real dick to you. I’m sorry. Any one of these things would be kind and what Etienne deserved - but Anselm’s teenage mind was convoluted, and not even he dared breathe to life the feelings stirring beneath his skull.
Vhy do you stay, Etienne?
Anselm met hia gaze with his own heavy one. Etienne didn't know why Anselm had chosen him to pick upon. But he felt the change in the air. And he wanted to sigh. He was in for an argument maybe. But he also knew Anselm liked reactions and eti wouldn't give him one.
Etienne didn't expect kindness or gratitude. Anselm would very possibly die before he thanked Eti for anything. But wasn't it a mark of a good one to not demand those things? Even if they were deserved.
He was surprised at the question and realized he didn't rightly know and yet he did know.
Because 'elp is needed. W'at type dyab would dat be makin' me if i lef' cause somet'ing was 'ard.
For a moment Etienne’s shining humanity was revealed to Anselm; Anselm refused to acknowledge it. It was easier to be mean to something if you did not identify with it.
He exhaled through his nose. Now would be the time a grateful wolf would address how Etienne had saved him. Anselm, once again, buried any semblance of grace between blades of prickliness that guarded his defensive heart.
But you left your home vhen it was hard.
He pointed out thickly — too uncomfortable to sit, but not so uncomfortable he felt the need to leave. After all, it was easier to point out others flaws than be left to reflect on his own.
Anselm seemed at a loss if the thickening silence was anything to go by. But Etienne ztubbornly refused to ease it. Why shouldn't he, let Anselm sit in his uncomfortableness.
A shift in the movements around an exhale through nose. Ears quivered at the noises. Etienne felt his heart tighten of its own accord. Was Anselm going to attack him this time.
Etienne's eyes popped open then and tuened the full gaze of burnished gold onto the ice and mountain boy.
I did. An' dat be my sin to bear. I saw dem w'en you got 'urt. I esplained.
Anselm sought to needle him — why? To what end? It was unkind and he knew it — but something about his unaddressed feelings irked the Sonnenwasser; and that made him volatile.
He was in no condition to fight. Learning that Etienne had seen his family and then left again, Anselm scoffed. If it was that easy to leave his family, when was it Paleo’s due to see Etienne leave them?
I vould never leave my family behind.
Anselm sniffed, judgment in his tone that was for all purposes unfair to the boy who had literally saved his life.
He intended to leave Etienne with that to chew on — he knew better than to strike his savior — but something else kept him there. Vhen will you abandon us, too?
Etienne didn't know what caused Anselm to dislike him so entirely much. But it was as common as breathing to have an insult.
Etienne raised a brow. My sister ask me to stay, but i decided your life was more important. Would you 'ave me let you die?
Etienne smiled, though it was a hard one. Dat be your c'oice i be already makin' mine.
Etienne gave a soft shrug. i could 'ave already an' I didn't, but I be sure if it comes to pass it will be de 'appiest day of your life, no? Isn't dat w'at you want?
He stretched brown and tawny body, acting undisturbed, a small yawn, his tongue lolling for a minute. And then leaped from the rock. And shook out his shoulders.
Thought Anselm intended the spotlight to focus on Etienne, it flipped back to him. He mentally set on his heels, digesting all that had been disclosed by the salt-blooded boy.
What did Anselm factor into any of Etienne’s decisions? He felt a prickle of annoyance to be held accountable; and something else, too.
He shoved that persistent and budding feeling downwards, dragging under the drowning water of his subconscious.
Was Etienne leaving truly what Anselm wanted? He was a lonely boy - an angry one too — there were already too many holes in the fabric of his heart. What kind of hole would Etienne leave in his passing?
For a long time it looked as if Anselm would answer. At length he scoffed, rose to his feet, and left the sunning boy to his perch on the rock. He would not speak of his feelings. He would bury them each, and leave them there to rot.
Etienne was stunned when Anselm had no come back and he was a little fearful of it. What did it mean and what should he do?
He scoffed to himself he meant nothing to the young man so why was he wondering what the silence meant.
Anselm must just still feel bad. He had been burt pretty bad. Etienne watched him go and moved away. His sun spot now soured.