Firefly Glen and now lets repeat the non-conformist oath

@Alarian

all living things die. they don’t know when, they don’t know how, but they do. no one could prepare for it. the rabbit that lay bloodied at cupid’s feet certainly hadn’t.

he had been tracking it throughout the day. the poor thing hadn’t even realized it. he waited till the sky was painted red, that’s when he took action.

and this is where we begin our story. it was quite a simple one, just a boy hovering over his dinner, waiting to feast.

sorry this sucks so bad, rlly rusty tbh. tag for ref

He's not sure what beckons him so far from the territory @Midar's family has claimed. Lately lethargy and melancholy are all he has, an all-consuming state he can't seem to shake even in the warmth and safety of his lover's embrace; travel has not been terribly high on his list of priorities. Yet here he is — wandering, and sort of wishing he could just die. Too bad life is never that easy. Instead, he comes across a wolf; a dark woman standing over a freshly dead rabbit. It occurs to him that he's in no mood for company — but it would feel rude to turn away now. So he's stuck. He slows to a stop some feet away and chuffs a tentative greeting, swallowing back a wave of nausea at the undeniable twinge of envy in his chest as he glances over the rabbit. He just wishes things could end that quickly for him.

he hated this world. from the time he was born to this moment, life was nothing but shit and inconvenient. and all that shit formed this cynical man that could not trust a soul.

he was not pleased to have company. who could blame him? the dude was eyeing his dinner. but he did not leap for it, he stood there. not the reaction cupid was expecting.

“what happened to your eye?” the question slips out. it was a means to get his eyes off his food for the most part. but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit curious. 

The stranger doesn't seem pleased with his presence, but she doesn't really react, either. He blinks at her question, pausing and swallowing as his gaze flits to her. His throat feels dry, and for a moment it seems to stick, leaving him choking for a half-beat before he can answer. Um, He says, swallowing again when it dies off. I don't remember. His gaze drops and he shifts uncomfortably, suddenly self-conscious. He already knows he's ugly; he doesn't need a stranger to point out his imperfections.

the way the stranger shuffled place amused him and his mouth lifts into a small smile. “don’t remember?” he repeats, “if someone fucked up my face like that, i couldn’t forget.” cupid sighed and shifted his weight to his right side. “i like it,” he comments, “perfect faces are dull. but yours is an open book.”

His gaze remains fixed firmly on the ground — until the words I like it register fully. Inexplicably, his ears flush with heat at the strange, slightly backhanded compliment, eyes immediately returning to the woman's face. It's short-lived, though; the feeling only intensifies with the glance, and he looks back down with his heart thumping furiously. An open book, he repeats in his head, embarrassment heating his face further. He's never liked feeling transparent, especially with strangers — but it's a little thrilling in a way, too. Or maybe he's just really fucking desperate for even the slightest approval.
Um, He tries after a few beats, realizing he's been silent for too long. His voice betrays him, too, and he winces slightly at the realization. Thank you?

now the guy seemed too flustered to care about the rabbit anymore. and while the silence rolled by cupid slowly pushed the rabbit underneath him.

cupid chuckled when he finally spoke. had he ever gotten complimented before? it looked like he was gonna jump out of his skin. “heh, yeah.” cupid shifted in front of the prey to conceal it. “there’s gotta be something more about you. you got a home?”

He hardly notices the woman's actions with the rabbit, though it vaguely registers somewhere in the back of his mind. His attention is taken by her next words anyway. Um... yeah. That way, He says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his temporary home. He swallows again, ears flicking back uncertainly when he turns back to her. I'm uh... not very interesting, actually. I'm sorry.

his eyes follows where he points and... wait, what was he expecting to see? well a home, that’s what he thought for a split second. something to answer the ever growing list of questions he had. “everyone’s interesting.” he looked back at the stranger. “it’s just hard to see for yourself.”