Jade Fern Grove the broken, beating heart

Byleth woke to the sounds of birds, chirping and chittering, loud in his ears. It was fall, he considered, no such time for this sort of thing, and yet they persisted.

The slender young man raised his head to stare up into the branches, tail spooled over his haunches. Ever since he had come here, aching in his chest, he had enjoyed it. Which, had been last night, but this place had…something.

He quite liked it.

He hauled his body to its feet, dipping his head low to pull up a bit of moss. Should he leave, he wanted to remember this. This place, this moment, everything. He took a deep inhale of the morning air, and ducked into the brush to find a meal.

minne hated all the handsome men of the wilds.

not truly, but it was a weak spot. made her tended and vulnerable to gaze upon a tall glacier of a man. icy in tones, as if father winter had already come.

she watched him duck into the brush and for a long moment she considered that would be it.

she would go her other way, not daring to be involved somewhere again, and he'd be none the wiser.

that was until her paws started carrying her. natural instinct. maybe natural stupidity.

she barked once and braced for a reaction.

The sharp, pointed tones of his own kind stopped the man in his tracks. Byleth raised his head up over one of his steep shoulders, eyes seeking the source. He knew he probably looked a fool, with moss on his lip, but he couldn’t resist a call.

His eyes fell upon a woman, dark in tones and splotched with whites. He fanned his tail, a subtle greeting he could do without losing his grip on his precious moss. Only for him to sit it at his feet a second later.

Do you lay claim to this place? He asked, rueful to admit he hadn’t even tried smelling to see if others inhabited here before he settled for the night.

it was stupidity, she decided in that moment.

no claim, she told him. cool and collected. there was no other way to be. her body posture remained neutral towards him. even as her eyes drifted to examine the moss he had set down.

a collector, a medic. she had to wonder.

do...you?

Byleth was quiet, for a moment. He took a deep inhale, just in case, but puffed it out in a short, huffing breath, as though he was thinking what to say.

Maybe. He answered, though he knew that if he had the chance, this place would be his own. He liked it here, it soothed a part of his soul he didn’t know he still had. He looked back to the woman.

Byleth. He said with a short flick of his tail. This was how to socialize, he was assuming.

maybe.

she had to try to hide the small lift of her lips, the slight twitch in her tail. he seemed all alone and she wondered if that was his reason for a maybe.

but everything started with one, right?

minne. she offered, flexing her toes into the soft ground.

so you have others, byleth?

Once.

He’d had many things, once. He gave his head a faint shake.

Not anymore. It’s just me, these days. Seafoam eyes looked to Minne, then left her figure to roam the woodland. Always watching.

You? Was her home nearby? Were there others in close proximity to take offense to his presence?

her?

no one.

and it had been that way for a long time. longer than she cared to admit, but every time the seasons churned and turned she could usually find somebody to do deals with.

but fishing was hard in the winter. nobody ever liked iced meat.

winter will be here before we know it.

it felt like small talk.

it felt like deep conversation.

The chill in the air was a reminder of her words. The crispness of autumnal air that dug into his bones.

He eyed her, half suspicious, half hoping.

That it will. His toes twitched, digging into the moss.

This place will be good to hide from it. To face a winter alone could be death for the weak willed.

a tall freckled ear flicked.

consideration and amusement. she had no rule clue what this guy wanted to do here. maybe he wanted a place of warriors. maybe he wanted some sort of spiritual cult.

maybe he just wanted a home and she was sour.

think so?

and she found that sudden sense of selfishness, of an ego too big to ask for help.

she craned her head to the side, only stealing sidelong glances at most now.

He gave a short “mm” of agreement.

Even when the leaves are gone, the trunks remain. The roots create homes. And what hunts the residents of those homes, can be picked off themselves.

Survival was not a pretty thing. He found himself eating foxes last winter.

It is a good place. Byleth moved the moss he’d been holding with his feet, rolling it into a rough ball.

I think, at least.

you should be more certain of yourself.

it lacked malice or true bite. advice, from one beast to another. he had a whole pitch, but what did it mean if it ended with I think?

not much. not in her eyes, at least.

what about the faces you want here?

He really should. 

Byleth stood a little straighter, tipping his angled head to one side.

I care not for faces. If they can live and contribute, can survive without coddling as though they were children, I would welcome them. He rolled his weight.

Dead weight has no place. Except for buried and gone.

she laughed, but not to mock him.

more with an understanding of his words. of how hard it would be to pull together all sorts like that.

winter will make it hard. creatures get greedy and lazy, ready to eat up your caches and split come spring.

and she looked up to him now, with dark eyes. wondering what his plan was for that.

Minne warned him of snakes in the grass. He knew of the beasts that lived in men, and he considered them when he made his plans. Byleth gave a humorless grin in response.

Laziness is only rewarded with an empty stomach. He said, raising a brow as if to challenge her to come up with a scenario.

Or, perhaps, teeth to a hock. I am not picky for which it could be.

teeth and exile.

she could see no other way in the coming winter. autumn felt more like a checklist than a season.

he had found shelter, but he lacked all else.

you have quite the plan already.

but she did not wedge herself into it. not first, not without something.

Byleth gave a little shrug.

Plans are only half as good as the man who makes them, and the ones who see it through. I can speak all I like, to do is harder. His ear twitched.

I wish to survive. And this is the best way to do it.

an offer did not come her way.

but she could not say she blamed him. they knew hardly anything about one another.

and maybe he was not looking for somebody like her. lean and trim. not a good guardian. a fisher was unnecessary in the winter.

i'll be in the area, not the grove. if that...doesn't bother you.

although he could go pissing along every tree all over the land and expecting it to stick by himself, could he?

Byleth blinked.

He had missed something here, hadn’t he? He thought back, tripping over details as he went, before he puffed shortly.

I apologize. Im afraid I’ve been a bit up myself today. He extended the olive branch.

If you wish to stay in the grove with me, to contribute, I welcome you to do so.