Blackfeather Woods thine azure sister of the spring shall blow

The wraith spends the morning lost in thought, patrolling alone to clear his mind. It's midday before he stops to ground himself again, to set a goal and complete it before the day closes. Time to try again at sealing an aging wound, perhaps. He seeks @Taikon, following his scent for a time before he thinks to stop and call for the man. Then all he can do is wait.

Note to self: set before the leaving thread https://wolf-rpg.com/showthread.php?tid=45697

Patrolling had largely been the most he had done for much of the week. Other than catching rodents near their den, he had stuck to his promise to Takiyok and had not gone beyond the pack borders at all in order to hunt. Much of what he did during the day was attempt to catch up on sleep. Sometimes, he would sit beside the creek to think and daydream, but just as often his thoughts would spinout and he would have to retreat from the anxiety. Moving was what had always kept him sane. Not moving, well, it made things feel much worse.
Hence his patrol. And then, Zephyr called for him, not far behind him. Taikon stopped in his tracks. For a moment, he stared hard ahead of him and let out a lengthy sigh. What could he possibly want? The white prince turned around and went toward the sound, finding the silvery boy there not long after. Taikon bowed his head for a moment, respectfully. The motion was sanitized and dull. Part of him wished that he could greet him with a friendly nuzzle or a lick or...something. But everything was uncomfortable. The boy had even gone so far as to question him and Takiyok as good parent material.
You called? he asked, not meaning for it to sound as cold as it did.

The coldness in Taikon's voice stings, but Zephyr doesn't linger long on the hurt. His ears fold slightly nonetheless. I want to apologize, He starts, careful to keep his tone serious and genuine, not as flat as he usually allows. It's more of an effort than his typical emotionless facade. My emotional outburst before was... ill-considered and inappropriate. And you should not have had to see what happened at the tree — that was a mistake. He leaves it at that, a half-truth but the only one he's willing to give. Neither will happen again. Because Taikon will never see Zephyr's emotional side again, his vulnerable side. He's already guaranteed that much, through his actions and reactions.

Zephyr had asked for distance, and Taikon had given it as best he could. Now, he wanted to apologize. For what? Emotions? But the prince listened. He had plenty else on his mind. His thoughts spun with the upcoming trip and what it would mean. What would happen to Takiyok if... But that wasn't something he would think about. Such thoughts were of no value.
Inappropriate. Ill-considered. It all felt like shielding, like Zephyr was putting up walls. Taikon frowned. I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, he said honestly. If Zephyr wanted to do whatever he wanted to do, it wasn't the white wolf's place to judge. It was his place to listen when it all went to shit, and he worried that now, his strange boy-leader was abandoning even that possibility. It's okay for you to feel things. I wish... but he trailed off, unable to say what he wanted to. The reality was he wanted things to be the way they had been on the mountain, only without the fear of death all around them. The sexual part didn't matter, though no matter how hard he tried, there was that part of him that found Zephyr... irresistible. Yet resist he would always. Taikon dipped his head, feeling guilty, like all of this was absolutely his fault. He just wanted his new friend back.

He shakes his head, fighting the urge to give in to Taikon's sentimental derailing of the conversation. He can't let that happen; for the pack, for Taikon and Takiyok, for his own protection. I'm one of the leaders here. I should never have let my emotions control me that way — that isn't okay. Not for me, He continues, determined to tie up all of their loose ends here. I can't forget what happened between us, but it won't affect your standing in the pack, or Takiyok's. It was never going to. I care for you, I wouldn't wrong you, and it wouldn't bring you back to me anyway — but these words remain unspoken. It's best that way.

Zephyr ignored his attempts. It hurt. Badly. More than he would ever admit. His head dipped lower, and he refused to look up toward the boy. There was so much more they could have had. So many more conversations. So much more good. All Taikon could do was nod mildly, pretending he didn't have a voice and what he said didn't matter. He was forgetting all of it. He'd had a head injury. They'd been through a lot together. He'd... found safety because of the pallid male. Suddenly, it all felt like a strange transaction.
I think you want to forget, he said abruptly, standing strong. He felt anguished in a way he hadn't expected. perhaps the distance between them had been as much for himself as it had been for Zephyr. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to accuse. I just.. Why do you insist on treating me like this? Like... a stranger? It all felt wrong. Unnatural. Why couldn't they just talk? Like before?

The accusation is unexpected, hard-hitting — and the question that follows breaks through the wall Zephyr has put up, if only a little. He swallows, trying to collect his thoughts. What pours out in the end isn't what he'd expected to say. I do want to forget — because I can't see you as just a friend anymore. I want to, but I can't. And it's easier to keep distance between us than hurt myself by pretending, or risk unintentionally violating your boundaries and making things uncomfortable for both of us, The words hurt, so much he almost can't get them out without pausing. But he pushes forward, determined to give Taikon what he wants now. They've come this far, and he needs him to understand. It isn't about sex, it's — it doesn't matter what it is. He shakes his head slightly, forcing himself to drop the matter. You have a right to choose who you want to be with, and you did. I would never try to hurt you for that. I'm just trying to protect myself. Trying being the key word; it seems an impossible task, from where he's standing.

Zephyr was putting up walls. Maybe, if Taikon had been smarter, he would have been putting up walls too. Walls were the norm. Stay guarded, stay strong. Don't let anyone in. This just wasn't one of those scenarios. He remembered him, him when he thought he was a her, stranded, alone, confused, injured, bleeding. He remembered what he had said on the mountain in anger, in fear. He would not forget. He didn't want to.
Being faithful to Takiyok was easy. And some part of him knew that he just couldn't have it both ways. But when he had allowed Takiyok to choose him, to show herself and for him to see her fully, he hadn't meant to shut out the newcomer. Zooming out, it all felt silly. They didn't know each other very well. Zephyr knew so little about him, and Taikon knew only that Zephyr had been raised amidst a rough childhood and had seen horrors that none should ever have to go through.
"I'm just trying to protect myself."
And then, the truth hit him, and he stood there, dumbfounded, stupified.
What flashed before him was a future that would never be. The prince of nothing saw the silver boy, eying him not with caution and avoidance but kindness and glee. There was love in his cold, frozen stare. It was not what existed then, not really. But Taikon remembered that gaze from the mountain, he remembered the glimpse of warmth, of a summer's embrace and of devastating tenderness.
And so, Taikon nodded, slowly. The harm he felt surfaced as the welling of tears, but he refused to show them, turning his head away. We don't know each other, he said, trying to be cold, but his voice faltered as he said it. He wanted to say more, not to hurt, but to reconstruct the wall Zephyr seemed to want. Taikon didn't want it. It showed. So, what now? Do I call you Leader? Do I call you some title I can't pronounce? Do I never talk to you again even though I want to? He wouldn't look at him. He couldn't.
Takiyok meant the moon to him. But the moon was not everything. There were too many people to care about now, and one of them seemed to willingly reject such care. It burned. He felt it, harsh in his skin, breeding like a leperous anguish, deep within.

Somehow, Zephyr only seems to make things worse.
No —
His thoughts stutter and falter, and the icy mask melts away. All that's left is a fragile boy with far too many scars, wide-eyed, deer in the headlights. Stripped bare, raw red irritation on display. He feels exposed. Ugly. Unwanted.
He is suddenly so, so tired.
I don't know, He admits, voice breaking harshly. Pushing you away hurts. Being around you hurts. Everything hurts — all I wanted was to make that stop, but it's not going to, no matter what happens. The realization is a new one for him, a crushing epiphany mid-conversation. His ears flatten. Resigned, he continues. I want whatever you want. Whatever would make you happy. We'll do that. One of us should be happy with the outcome. And it's not going to be me.

That's always the way it goes.

The wall-building went poorly. Taikon could hear it, feel it, the tension in Zephyr's voice was palpable. Taikon shifted his weight, shivering a bit before struggling to once again look at the boy. His ears were pushed against his skull. As he struggled to get the words out, a familiar guilt coated the prince with regret. This was all his fault. He'd hurt him. Takiyok had said to give him space, but it seemed that space did little other than make the pair of them completely miserable.
He wanted to comfort him. He started to reach out, but stopped himself, knowing that it could cause more damage.
whatever you want
Taikon shook his head, brow furrowed. It had been so much easier to be angry with Zephyr for being a childish boy-leader. This alternative was impossible. I don't think joint happiness is impossible, he said despite himself, even though he couldn't see the solution. It might not happen right away, and it might not look the way either of us would like it to, he kept going, though he wasn't even sure if the words made sense. The train of thought wouldn't stop; he refused to leave Zephyr in the dirt with this hurt that he had caused. You are my leader, he looked at him, wishing he could catch his eyes, wishing things were different. And my friend. And even if I'm not your friend, I'm not going to let that go. I'll still be here when you need me.
The urge to touch him was so strong, he had to take a step back and force it down. He wanted to apologize, yet he refused to take back what he'd said and done. He'd never meant to hurt. He'd meant every word he'd said on that damn mountain.
You're amazing.