Mount Apikuni 'cause loving and hating are one and the same

He returns victorious, limping slightly, dragging his quarry slowly along with him. The goat is relatively small, a lame thing he'd picked off from the outskirts of the group, but still rather large compared to Zephyr. The effort had not been without cost, either. His eyes are glazed and unfocused as he brings the kill to @Taikon, chest stained bright and metallic again, dripping onto the shadowed forest floor as he approaches. He doesn't say a word as he deposits the goat near the pair of pale wolves.

Taikon was asleep in a mess of his own tears atop Takiyok when Zephyr returned with a prize. He had spent the time worrying, scared, wanting to go get the beautiful damsel and bring her back to safety. He knew that she needed space from him. Takiyok had left because she needed space. During the time Zephyr was gone, Taikon attacked himself, blaming himself for everything bad that had happened. Everyone had died or otherwise suffered terrible consequences because of him. Sleep had stolen him from his anguish, just briefly.
When he looked up from Taki, there was the beautiful, icy goddess, a goat in tow. Taikon's face was puffy from weeping. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot. Y-you're amazing, he said, inhaling sharply through his nose to clear some old snot. Then, he blinked and saw red. He stood up from Taki immediately, flying to Zephyr. You're bleeding again, lay down. Rest, he pleads, his spirit torn apart by two women he cares about in pain. He blames himself.
For all of it.

The build-up has been so painfully slow, like a bad day that only gets worse; like waking up from a nightmare on the wrong side of the bed only to find that you've forgotten to do your laundry, misplaced your keys, and finally — finally, when you're about to get out the door, you remember — you were supposed to be at work an hour early this morning.
That's where Zephyr is at, but a hundred times worse. Death and injury and emotional trauma — that's been his week. And now this — this emotional rollercoaster he doesn't have the time or energy or patience for, not now and maybe not ever. Fuck this. Stop it, Tears fill his eyes, voice coming out half a whine, and he hates it. Stop — pretending to care about me if you don't really mean it. No one ever does — not even my own mom — and I'm so tired of getting my hopes up... His voice breaks on the last sentence, dissolving into a sob. His hind legs fold suddenly beneath him, and he falls back onto his haunches, head dipping as he tries to control his sudden hysteria. It doesn't work.

Stop it, she snapped. Taikon stopped in his tracks. Everything in his blood told him to go to her, to groom the wound on her chest, to feed her, to warm her, to make sure she was okay. It screamed in him. But he stopped, because she told him to. Zephyr claimed that he was pretending to care. She implied he didn't care. Taikon looked down, focusing his eyes on the dirt at her paws while she yelled at him.
Zephyr collapsed, and Taikon couldn't contain himself. He flew to her and practically threw himself down onto the ground with her, folding his legs under him, too. Briefly, he looked to Taki, just to make sure she hadn't disappeared. I'm not pretending, he said in a soft, tender, affectionate voice. Zephyr had mentioned her mother, and Taikon knew that now was unlikely to be the time to address whatever that was, but he went on. He was exhausted emotionally, but he went on anyway. And, I'm not your mum, he said, smiling lightly, partly joking. He wanted to touch her, to nuzzle her neck and get her to let him deal with her opened wound, but he knew better than to push it.

Somehow, the outburst doesn't have the effect Zephyr had intended. Taikon doesn't drop the facade and leave. Instead, suddenly, they're close again, and Zephyr's heart starts to race, unprepared for this turn of events. He sucks in a sharp breath, disarmed by the tenderness in Taikon's voice. Kryptonite, flame against the ice around his heart. He melts, and buries his face into pale fur, still crying. Anger still burns fierce in his veins, raging, but he feels helpless to express it in the face of such soft warmth. This is what he wants, after all. It's all he's ever really wanted from anyone. Silence stretches, and his only response is the touch, full of warmth and desperate desire. He hates himself for it.

There was nothing he could say. He could feel her heart pumping hard as she finally leaned into him, sobbing, crying, melting. Taikon pushed back against her, holding her there, feeling himself silently weeping again. He didn't know what he had done to her. He didn't know why she had decided that he had only been pretending. He didn't even know why she had come out of it when he announced that truly, he was not pretending.
He held her close, offering no words. The touch said everything. It was a language of old, of warmth, and trust. You're amazing, he repeated in a whisper, thinking it true. He couldn't believe that she, with such injuries, had managed to hunt down a meal that was enough for all of them. It seemed to him miraculous and great. Once again, he looked up briefly from the embrace to Taki, who was still lying motionless but unchanged. He shuddered out a slow breath. He leaned back from Zephyr then, and moved to lick at her wounds, to clean them once more. Please, he thought.

You're amazing — that again, that compliment he isn't sure what he's supposed to do with. He swallows, pressing closer, silent for a few moments. Eventually, he pulls away to speak again, barely noticing Taikon's movement. He allows the touch to pass with little acknowledgement, though its effect on him is undeniable.
I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm... usually not like this, It feels like he's reverted back to childhood, in some ways. Maybe Daighre rubbed off on him a little — or maybe it's just the head injury. I'm not great with feelings. I usually ignore them, because they don't come out right when I try. He pauses, trying to sort through his fogged thoughts. Suddenly he doesn't remember where he's going with this. He blinks, looks away, and the familiarity of the area strikes him all at once. I was born near here. Just to the east. That's where my mother... He trails off, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. I'll — I'll be more normal when we're away from here.

As Taikon slowly began to clean her freshly opened wounds, she spoke. She apologized, and went on. He listened, quietly, tenderly licking at the area on her chest, hoping that she would settle and be okay. Clearly, terrible things had happened to Zephyr. Her mother was gone, and her head was too busted up for her to grieve properly. He swallowed, leaning back again once he had removed the dirt and fresh leakage from the scratches.
I'll survive, he said, after some thought, offering her a small, weak smile. I think we'll all be a little more normal when we're away from this place. But... he paused, looking at the ground. Normally, he would have told her she shouldn't bottle things. Normally, he would have offered to listen. He wanted to. But they needed to get the fuck out of here and over the mountains. If someone from Sagtannet were to find them here, or if that cat was to come back, and Zephyr was indisposed from grief... Once we're.. away from here, I'm still going to care, he said finally. Taikon didn't know her very well, this was true. He didn't have a strong bond to her the way he did with Takiyok. But he saw a woman in pain, and he wanted to do everything in his limited power to help heal her in the only way he knew how.

archiveee?

He doesn't believe him, not truly — but he wants to. I want to believe you, He admits, surprising himself. At least it comes out as neutral as he'd meant it to; a small victory. I'll try. He adds after a moment. But he knows he won't, not really. No one ever cares for very long, and a simple sentence won't change what Zephyr knows to be true.

Trying to believe him was all he could really ask her to do. He of all people understood the need to be guarded. Even though he found no trouble talking to and making connections with people, he struggled to trust fully. Takiyok was a strange exception to that rule, along with Luna, whom he hoped awaited him somewhere on the other side of the mountains.
He smiled, small, thin. After cleaning her wounds, he stood and dragged the goat closer to the tree where Takiyok lay motionless. For a while, he ate. When he was mostly full, he lay down, wrapping himself around his trusted friend and putting his head back on her backside so he could monitor her breath even while he slept.