Fox's Glade the moon cried for my brother

he hates when he is alone.

his head fills with such nasty thoughts. his stomach ties into a knot. absynthe finds himself hiding underneath a tall tree. rays of moonlight filter through the branches to caress his ebony form. purple eyes seem to be full of tears that refuse to spill over.

he hates when his brother is absent.

the tattered raven knows that if he wants him back he should go looking but right now he can only weep for the brief absence of @Acheron. absynthe knows they will reunite soon enough - they always do - but it hurts for the time being.

though neither could know, it would not have surprised ronnie to learn he and his brother occupy each other's thoughts at the same time. they are bound irrevocably, for better or worse, and his steps will always take him back to the one wolf who has never abandoned him. guiltily he wanders in search of absynthe, the high finally fading and leaving him suffocating.
he finds him crying, and his heart shatters and falls to pieces against his ribcage. "you're beautiful when you cry," he tells him as he draws nearer, leaning to gently swipe the tears away with his tongue. "but i wish you wouldn't." he wonders if he is the reason; it seems likely. there's a lump in his throat now, so he leans in to nuzzle his brother in lieu of more words.

suddenly his stomach seems to unknot. the weight that was pressing down on his lean frame lightens all because he is here.

synthe almost doesn't believe it is truly his brother but the words tell him it is. this is no stranger and this was not the bad spirits playing a trick. flesh and blood, his very own.

he feels heated under his ebony fur at the words. imagine what i would look like if i stopped crying. deep tones don't reach above a whisper. with ease, he returns his brother's touch. inky nose seeking out the fur of ronnie's neck. being brave has never looked as good as tears. not on me, at least.

"bullshit," he snaps, touch turning rough as he presses himself against his brother, reaching to preen harshly at his scruff. "everything looks good on you, jackass." there is affection to his words, even if his tone is cutting. he pauses to breathe in absynthe's scent, softening against him just as quickly as he'd turned sharp.

he melts under his brother's rough touch, exposes his neck to the rough preening. he feels hot at the sharply affectionate words. thank you. absynthe murmurs softly feeling too embarrassed by such a compliment to say anything else. purple eyes glance up at the gaunt figure of ronnie with unwavering fondness. lay with me? he asks softly. it is dark and the place seems empty, was here a more appropriate place than earlier? absynthe is dying to soak up his brother's presence and touch.