Sawtooth Spire Duracell Rabbit

@Quellcrist 

After a restless night and a very difficult morning, Elfie dozed in the sunlight with his eyes half-closed. He felt weak and exhausted, and lamented the stupid idea that he could taper down the dose of medicine Mahler had given him or live without it at all. The resulting headaches and whirlwind dreams had not been worth it.

Even now, as he peered at the world outside, he saw the dancing lights and shadows of hallucinations that had become permanent fixtures in his reality. The were harmless, silly, shapeless sometimes, mere blotches of bright colours.

A nuisance to him, but something that Elfie would never reveal other packmates. It was enough that Mahler knew, what was going on, he had a strong feeling that others would not be that tolerant or understanding of his ailments. Elfie yawned and snuggled closer to the rock he had chosen as his pillow.

His belly rumbled in hunger and he decided that, if he felt any better later in the day, he would go and catch something to eat.

She was back home and feeling much better, though Quell didn't feel quite as spirited as usual. The migraine had taken a lot out of her and she was worried what it might mean about the state of her head. Were debilitating headaches going to become her norm? Or had it been a fluke? Was it safe to go about her life as normal or should she take precautions to avoid prompting another headache? Not that she knew what had triggered this last one...

The yearling meandered thoughtfully through the slopes of her still new home, a spot of bright color catching her eye. Elfie, she thought, hesitating. He hadn't wanted much to do with her the last time, so Q wasn't sure she should approach. But she hadn't seen much of anyone else since her return the other day, so a thirst for company compelled her toward him, half certain he wouldn't want to provide said company.

"Yo, Elfie," she drawled casually as she approached him, "mind if I join ya?"

Elfie did not remember, when and how he had fallen asleep, so no wonder that Quellcrist's sudden materialization before him startled him a little. "Oh, hey," he smiled at her weakly and his tail brushed the snow few time. They had parted on awkward terms the last time, therefore he was not sure, if he wished to hear any inquiries of, what had happened and why.

And yet - he did not want to disappoint Quellcrist: "Yeah, sure. Take, whichever place you want, but the rock is mine." He attempted to joke but it fell flat.

Her question gave him an opportunity to decline her company. Q was delighted and surprised in equal measure when he accepted it instead. Snorting lightly at his disclaimer, she folded to her haunches nearby, tail curling around so that its feather-soft tip rested primly on her toes.

Her pale gaze rested on him a moment before she observed aloud, "Man, you look like how I've felt the past week: totally wiped. Still handsome as heck though," she added with a wink and click of her tongue. "You ever had a migraine before?" she queried in the next breath.

Elfie observed Quellcrist's face, while she spoke, and he huffed, when she called him handsome again. Too tired to feel awkward or nervous around her (or maybe it was just because she was a person that on the second meeting was still easy to have around you), he gave her a half-grin in response.

His face changed slightly, when she mentioned migraines, wondering, if anyone had told her about his condition or why on Earth she had brought this up in the first place. But again, he found no trace of a double-meaning implied. So he decided to play a fool (quite easy in his current state) and ask: "What do you mean?"

Between this conversation and their last, it struck her that Elfie must be a very naive individual. She found this endearing, though, and was glad to clarify, "A migraine is a really nasty headache that comes with fun side effects like nausea and sensitivity to light. It's a real picnic!" She chuckled dryly. "Anyway, I get them sometimes, ever since I took a kick to the head. They're usually over quickly, though I had one this last week that sucked a big, fat one. That's why I'm wiped out. What about you? Why do you look like you haven't slept in a thousand years?"

"So it is nasty, but it is fun and tiring?" Elfie summed up, what Quellcrist had said with a furrowed brow and not quite understanding, how that term in the middle went together with the nasty? Was she wrong in the head or something? "You do not look wiped out," he observed. And true - compare the happy-go-lucky-bouncy her and this apathetic and slow him. "I haven't slept in... I slept now and then you came," he shrugged.

"You're real literal, aren't ya?" Quell teased even as she realized the truth. "I was being being sarcastic when I said it's a picnic, so let me be real clear: it sucks balls, full stop." She paused to take a breath. "Thanks, though you didn't answer my question. Do you have trouble sleeping?" she guessed, suddenly sliding forward into a sphinx-like position so she was more on Elfie's level, her gaze hanging sympathetically on his handsome face.

The problem with Quellcrist was that she jumped from one subject to the next and then to the next one, and the next one and Elfie had trouble keeping track of, what was going on. 

"What d'ya mea..." he was about to ask, when she called him "literal". Was that something she should feel worried about? Then came something about sarcastic picnics and finally he came to a full stop at "it sucks balls". He did not hear, what Quellcrist asked afterwards.

"But you do not have any-" he told her. "Balls. And why would a migraine do such a thing?"

Maybe calling it naivete was being too kind, though Quell felt bad for even thinking it. But maybe Elfie was... slow? He certainly didn't seem capable of keeping up with this conversation. Q checked herself. Was she talking too fast? She didn't think so, though she wouldn't mind dialing it back a notch or two.

"Don't worry about it," she said, summarily dismissing the subject and preparing to restart the conversation from scratch. Q almost repeated her question a third time but instead asked simply, "How are you doing today, Elfie?" She smiled patiently at him, feeling another twinge of guilt when she realized her attraction to him had dulled somewhat over the course of the past few minutes. But maybe that was for the best?

Much to Elfie's disappoinment Quellcrist dropped the subject entirely and changed the course of the conversation again, making him more confused and liking her company less than previously. "It does not help much, when you do not explain," he pointed out a little resentfully. He did not enjoy her bombarding him with expressions and questions in such a quick succession that he had hardly time to contemplate or reply to any of them. From his point of view the talk was very one-sided. "I may be slow to grasp things, but it is very unkind to treat me like an idiot because of that," he added.

Quell's mouth opened and closed a few times, feeling uncharacteristically speechless in the face of Elfie's agitation. Her feeling of guilt worsened and her ears splayed. This would be the perfect time to cut through the tension with a well-timed joke, though she couldn't help but feel any attempt at such would be nothing but ill-timed.

"My b, I didn't mean to make you feel bad," was all she could come up with for a moment. She raised a paw to tell him to wait, then tried to think back on how to explain herself. "And I didn't mean to be confusing. I was speaking figuratively and using lots of sarcasm and slang." She blinked loudly, wondering if that helped him understand at all.

Just in case it didn't, she paused and said, "Just, um, lemme know if I can clarify any further," and cracked a somewhat sheepish smile.

Elfie was inclined to tell her that she should not use that "figurative speech" and "sarcasm", and "slang" or anything that would make the language more confusing than it already was. But he already felt bad for being blunt with Quellcrist and just the same way she felt that any joke now would have been ill-timed, he had a feeling that any further instructions would not help them being friends. 

"Doesn't matter anymore," he shrugged, he did not add that the reason for this was quite simple: he did not remember. "Where were you gone?" Elfie asked, not wishing for the conversation to dwell upon him more than it was absolutely necessary.

There was a feeling of mutual misgiving in the air and Quell felt very strange indeed. She was never at odds with anyone like this and not being able to crack jokes made her feel as if she'd lost her footing. She decided she should probably leave Elfie alone and opened her mouth to awkwardly excuse herself when he spoke instead, apparently making an effort to reboot the conversation after all.

Q slapped her mouth shut, paused, and then replied, "I went to visit my previous pack." She spoke a little slower than usual, picking her words carefully. It kind of surprised her that he'd even noticed her absence, though she didn't mention that part. "Basically, a scouting mission." Quell didn't bother explaining her history with Seabolt, the nature of her departure from them, nor the outcome of her recent mission, though she did say, "It wasn't very eventful."

Remembering that Elfie had appeared to be drowsing (and the unanswered questions about his possible troubles sleeping), Q decided she would get going. "I'm pretty worn out from the trip, so I'm gonna go check in with my dad and then catch a nap. I'll see you later, Elfie."

"Okay, see you," Elfie told meekly and watched the girl go away. The conversation had not gone well at all, looking back none of his attempts to connect with packmates or other people had been smooth or easy. He had been embarrassed with Arlette, failed to play games with Stag, been unable to talk with Quellcrist as a normal person. He was sure there were quite a few more that he could not recall by name.

The longer he dwelled on this thought, the more keenly he realized, how very much he missed Maegi with whom he had been able to talk freely and have mutual silences and complete understanding. He had not had to pretend in her presence that he was okay and well. Or Mou, who did not speak at all and who did not expect anything extraordinary for him either. 

Mahler was okay too, but they would never be true friends. Age gap and the fact that he was dependant on the mercy of the man would always stand between Elfie and the old general. To sum it up - he was lonely. So much that it hurt and long after the girl had left, Elfie lied there with all the sadness of the world in his eyes, quiet tears rolling down her cheeks.