Firestone Hot Springs Summer has come and passed

gonna set this for the 10th if thats cool! @Zephyr 

 

Caerus lingered at the edges of the springs, avoiding the steamy water nearby. His mind was on @Primrose , the "girl" he'd seen when he'd wandered beyond Neverwinter. And a stranger had shown up and he'd ran like a damn coward. She probably thought he was an idiot, he supposed, and mentally beat himself up over it as he strolled, regretting the fact he may never see that beautiful girl again. Eventually he came closer to one of the springs with a more moderate temperature, leaning down to dip his muzzle in and see if he could get a drink. He may have been skinny with the little eating he'd been doing, but he wasn't about to give up hydration, at least.

Guilt and shame draw him away from his companions again, until he's wandering alone. The scent of the hot springs is unpleasant, but a welcome distraction from his thoughts. The small figure he spots in the distance is, too. Well, actually the stranger looks bigger than him — but still quite small. He starts toward him with a chuff, not yet realizing how young the other wolf is.

Caerus glanced up when he heard the chuff, looking behind him towards the silver coywolf. He lapped dripping water from his lips, giving him a once-over with ruby eyes, noting his small size. you need something? Caerus wasn't much one for small talk, and wasn't especially eager to make new friends.

Something nags at him as he looks at the boy — something he can't pinpoint at first. His gaze traces his markings, and he takes in a breath, trying to catch the scent on him — and then it hits him.
You're Cupid's kid, He says after a moment, gaze hardening as he watches the boy. And Mal's. Right? Finally, a chance to confirm the suspicion — an opportunity to justify his resentment of Mal.

His jaw drops at the stranger's next words, and he narrows his eyes. what the- He gasps in a breath, and falters. Who was this? And why did they know Cupid- Cupid, who was gone, never to return- 
Why did they know Mal- and why did they know him? Caerus?

fuck off. He huffed finally, feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of an omniscient wolf. Like some devil here to torment him about his sorry life. Caerus turned away, leaning back down to the water to continue drinking. He wasn't going to entertain conversation with this spirit.

The reaction he receives from the boy is unexpected, but somehow not unwelcome. It confirms his suspicions in its own way, and sparks that twisted feeling in him again — the cold, cruel delight of knowing he has some kind of power over the situation. Why? He asks, stepping forward. Are you afraid of me?

The coywolf came closer, and Caerus turned, snorting at his question. Cupid didn't raise a little bitch. no, you're small. why would i be scared of you? i don't even know you. But apparently you know me. The pit in his gut grew deeper, but he disguised that with a boyish scowl. He didn't like this bitch, and she was making him all sorts of uncomfortable. didn't you hear me the first time when i told you to fuck off? or are those huge ass ears broken?

Big talk coming from a kid who was probably just another horny mistake, He shoots back, unperturbed by the childish insults. They're all things he's heard before — and coming from the mouth of a kid, it's obvious how low-effort and laughable the insults are. If the boy truly knew what kind of monster he is, perhaps he'd find something more original to call him. Or perhaps he'd simply flee. Here's some advice: Mal fucking Cupid and getting him pregnant didn't make him special, and it doesn't make you special, either. He fucked me, too — I bet he'd fuck anyone if they asked. That's why you exist. Because your father likes to put his dick in anyone he can get to. Cupid is replaceable and so are you. He had been replaceable, after all — or maybe he'd been the replacement for a time. It doesn't matter now. With that, he turns to walk away, pausing only once to call over his shoulder: Maybe I'll visit Neverwinter Forest sometime. You should hope I don't.

It was only recently Caerus had received a gentle version of 'The Talk', but it was enough for him to understand most of what Zephyr was saying, besides the word horny. He would pretend the words didn't get to him, straight faced and sharp-tongued- but they did. He'd always been insecure about his dad's other kids, and it was even more so now that he knew how they'd been made, how easily Mal had covered one wolf and then the next. When the bitch said Cupid was replaceable, that hurt the most. Because he saw it. Dad said he'd be there for him, and he did a good job of that, but Caerus caught the scent of Aibreann on him sometimes when he came by, and found the trails of his scent alongside his other kids. Anger boiled in the boy's chest, and words were slipping from his mouth before he knew what he was saying. you're just fucking jealous- cupid replaced you. you- mal probably didn't even like fucking you. that's why cupid got to stick around and you're out here all alone. 

and so what if my dad wants to, uh, um, put his dick- God, that felt weird to say about Mal. -in anyone he wants? so fucking what? it just means he doesn't need to see you either. he's got a whole lot of other girls like you in neverwinter. you're way more replaceable than me- you can't ever be his son, but anyone can be his whore. Caerus snorted. He wouldn't show this guy how his words got to him. if you visit neverwinter, i promise you my dad will kill you. he'll do whatever i say- Dad said he'd be there for him, whatever it took to help him, right? and he'll fucking kill you! Caerus finally spat, and watched as the bitch walked off. She'd put a price on her head- and he'd make sure Mal knew it.

As he walks away, he catches a few words — jealous, replaced you, Cupid got to stick around, out here all alone — but the words grow fainter, and somewhere around Caerus's stumbling over the word dick, he tunes out entirely. The rest of the boys words are lost to the wilds, none of his concern now that he's out of sight. He'd struck his blows with calculated precision, and the slew of cuss words in that whiny adolescent pitch is all he needs to know they'd found their mark. He's satisfied.