Dream Walkers [NSFW]

[Corny]

by blaze and corny
[MIRROR]
[NSFW]




Friends and neighbors, we here of the family planning committee are honored and humbled by your presence. The graciousness of the Sundara allows us to meet here today: warm, comfortable, well-fed and well-protected. I need not remind you that I am sahib Vantii, chief coordinator of breeding protocol. My friends, help me to help you in our bimonthly familial reeducation; many memos have been left upon our doorsteps pleading for help in taking care of over-sized litters. Today we are here to discuss what steps you may take if you find that you have excess or unwanted kits. Please turn to page one of your papyrus booklets.

I need not remind you that litters are strictly constrained to the nation-wide limit of five kits per family and excess kits are to be swiftly dealt with under threat of withheld sustenance. This is mentioned in duplicate on the breeding request forms that you may have picked up from our hub office. If you find that your litter is undersized or suffer unexpected pre- or post-natal death then you may submit a new breeding request form, provided that living kits are accounted for.



On occasion there may be a member of your litter that you find does not please you, or does not adhere to social aesthetic and behavioral standards set for kits. These are tala, a waste product of a family. They are to be ascribed with the symbol of nadir (a ring with a diagonal slash through it, right to left) on the backs of both hands.



Parents are encouraged to take great precautions when ridding their burrow of tala. Improper disposal could alert stray dhelpra to the presence of your family, or neighboring families. The committee of family planning highly recommends disposal in the veldt, known territory of the thousand-teeth, the dhelpra. A fresh inscription of nadir into the back of the hand should attract any nearby dhelpra, so proceed with caution.



The committee of family planning politely reminds you that tala are not to be counted among family members when turning in your federal forms for social welfare and requests for grazing time allotment. You may count each bearer of the symbol of nadir on your population control sheet and will receive a reimbursement accordingly.



The committee of family planning is, as always, grateful for your cooperation and compliance.



If your litter falls under size constrictions and you have kits you do not wish to mark as tala, we recommend selling children with more spectacular mutations, such as albinism, to the Sundara. They will be well taken care of within the palace walls and are ensured a long life, so long as they are obedient.



The child will become a namra, one of the Sundara’s many pets. They will be a toy or a companion, whatever suits the need at the time. They no longer have complete control of their destinies, but as they are only a slight step above a tala, this is of no concern. They will be permitted personal pursuits of intellectualism and entertainment, but the wishes of the Sundara will always come first.





A namra will not be allowed to leave the palace at any time. They may not make contact with anybody outside of its walls. In time, the namra will learn to see the palace for what it is: their sanctuary.



I can see you, friends, shivering in your seats at the thought of these poor children condemned to such terrible fates, and I feel obligated to remind you: we are here to help you, and you must in turn help us. The life of a kit is an uncertain thing, and not every kit will have the remarkable privilege to grow up to be a noble Lapittus. We must keep our families and warrens strong and pure, and this is capable only through a firm hand and a discerning eye. With your help the Sundara can keep our fledgling nation strong. Good fortune will shine on those who see fit to aid us.



Do not spare idle thoughts for these abandoned kits, barely Lapittus, who would be doomed to brutal lives if not for swift and merciful intervention.

I ask of you, neighbors, what would you do? Born imperfect into a perfect race, with some ghastly mutation. With a coat whose sheen could never hope to compare to the brilliance of the coats of the Sundara. Crippled or incompetent or socially inept. I shudder myself to think of the reins of our race held by these creatures. I wonder, and I implore that you do, too: do they think? Do they bleed, should you prick them? Do they long for a more perfect race, like we do?



Do they dream?

[blazelust]

pick yer poison made this!!!!

Table of Contents:

Childhood
The First Dream
Ophrys's Waking Life
Dahlia's Waking Life
Construction
Interim
New Light
Cruelty

Fanstuff!!

MalkyTop:

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Ayaka:

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Helia:

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Niamh:

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griffiti:

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[blazelust]

Of course they dream.

The tala and the namra both dreamed desperate, beautiful dreams, dreams more beautiful than the Sundara could imagine. This young tala has dreamed for longer than her eyes have been open.



After constant exposure to the malleable beauty of her dreams, she will one day find herself deeply disappointed with the material world.



She slept now curled up next to her surrogate mother, who had weeks ago assumed that one of her cubs had wandered out into the badlands, that barren and unwelcoming strip just beyond the grassy veldt. This mother dhelpra was all that she knew. She barely had the chance to see her biological mother's face, and she never will.



This was all naturally of little concern to her at the moment; she was a child, and she wanted to play.



The backs of her hands throbbed distantly.

[Corny]

She just seemed to be sitting there, looking out at the expanse. The namra had never seen a place like this before.















Now where did she go? He was sure he was keeping a close eye on her just moments before.



“Huh?”

[blazelust]

The grass just rustled, didn’t it? It could have been the wind but there’s no way to be sure in dreams! What if it’s a monster? What if it’s a nightmare??



Either way, the namra froze in fear, like a rabbit in the floodlights. He wasn't very brave.

[Corny]

The boy-kit certainly seemed frightened. But he was not a prey-thing. He was much too big for that! This wasn’t the kind of fight with teeth and claw, so she was not entirely sure why his heartbeat was so like a pinned bird’s. He clearly needed reassurance that they were friends.





”Gross! Stop that!”



Where does that silly boy-kit think he’s going? This is her domain.



Clearly this was another invitation to play.



Six appeared again, as she tended to when the girl-kit was at her most active and rambunctious. The most restless of dreamers do need their playmates.

He still shook like a leaf. The girl-kit tried to reassure him with soothing yelps and mewls but he wasn't having any of it. She reasoned that he must not be very bright!

She decided to try to speak to him in his own language, using the strange sounds he made earlier.



”Gross! Stop that!”

[blazelust]

”What? I didn't do anything.”
”What? I dint do anything.”



”Are you copying me?”
”Are you coppin’ me?”
”Do you even know what you're saying?”
”...”

That one was too long to repeat!



”You don’t, do you?”
”...”
”Hm.”
”Do you have a name?”
”Name?”
”A name, like what you’re called.”
”Called?”
”You definitely don’t understand.”
”I’m Ophrys.”
”Ophrys!
”Right!”
”And you?”
”And you?”
”No-no, what is your name?”
”No-no.”
”No name!”
”You don’t have a name?”
”Then I guess I have to give you one.”
“I can’t just call you No Name!”
”Ophrys!”
”No that’s my name.”
“Your name will be...”
“Dahlia.”
”Dahlia?”
”I’m Ophrys. You’re Dahlia.”
”You’re Dahlia!”
”Ophrys. Dahlia.”

She didn't seem to understand very well. Perhaps it would be best to use simple language and gestures.



”Ophrys. Dahlia.”
”Right!”
”Heehee!”



He certainly isn’t very smart but she is sure she’s gotten her point across! She hopes he comes back to visit her dreams soon. Maybe he can visit her dreams all the time! She loves Six but it's nice to have a playmate her own size.

And look, Six loves the strange boy-kit -- Ophrys, in his strange sounds -- too!

”I’ll need to teach you more, I guess...”

There was never any frustration about the mutual language barrier between them; only the desire to teach, the desire to learn, and the need to connect. In time, they would come to understand one another better than any other pair of dreamers on the planet.

In time.

[Corny]

Ah, yes. Another morning. Another beginning of a day in the life of a namra. A life of servitude and pretend freedom. Thankfully none of the Sundara are awake in the early morning, instead choosing to stay in bed far longer than anybody really should.

This was his time.





Here he could study and learn to his heart’s content. His most treasured subjects were the great myths of his people: the stories of the sun and the moon, and of the great warriors. He would spend all day here if nobody were to find him.



But somebody always found him.



He was the favorite plaything of the princess Enlute. She found pleasure in dressing him up in ridiculous outfits and jewelry, adoring his annoyance. He couldn't say anything in protest at the risk of punishment. So he stayed silent, seething.



Until another child of the Sundara wished to use him for play...



”Make the noise, namra!”
“Squeal!”
”WEH”
”Ahahaha! I knew you’d make it again!”



Ah, Divesi. Favorite son of the head of the family planning committee; his father, Vantii, rarely had time to watch over him. Well-loved and well-behaved for everyone, until his minders had their backs turned. Not that his minders would care much about his treatment of one of the many namra running around the palace.

Unfortunately he was sharp as a tack and much, much stronger than Ophrys. The poor boy was never able to do much more than bite his tongue and wait for him to get bored.

Maybe if he stays very still and very quiet, Divesi will forget that he exists.



"Come here, boy."



The Queen Nucife did not particularly care for one namra over the other, but it is rather off-putting to watch them be treated so poorly. Besides, he was rather expensive. She did often tell princess Enlute that if she should break her toys so quickly, she would not replace them. The same went for Divesi.

She believed it would do the boy good to spend some time in the dhelpra pen. Surely he would get along better with animals.



He did not quite agree.



Though Dahlia, his one friend in the world, had sworn up and down the dhelpra are safe and gentle, he was still afraid.



But these dhelpra were well fed and had spent their entire lives in captivity. Aggression is no longer in their blood, replaced with nonchalance.



At least, except for the pups.



As evening would come, the scorching hot sun dipped below the palace walls, casting its courtyard in darkness. The kholakare that live in the flowing water left their shells only in the evening, when their sensitive bodies weren’t at risk of exposure.



They were the favorites of Ophrys, who visited them each night to feed them scraps. They are like him. He couldn't go out in the sun, as his skin is too pale and susceptible to its rays. The sand and water are still warm at night, and it was quiet and peaceful. The kholakare were perhaps his only friends in his waking life.



In time, however, he would retire to bed.

Despite the life of loneliness he leads, he would find comfort so long as he was asleep.

[blazelust]

Several wet and dry seasons came and went. Dahlia's mother would never understand the sounds that she sometimes made after waking, but she did understand what the sound of joy was. What made Dahlia happy was good.





She also understood that Dahlia's joyous romping about made her absolutely filthy.



She and her siblings were equally voracious and restless.



They all grew up powerful, learning well to hunt and kill in the veldt's tall, protective grass.





But her siblings did not have Dahlia's sense of self, or Ophrys's voice whispering to them in their dreams. They would not hear nor ever understand the word 'indecent,' or why it was a bad thing.

And for the first time, Dahlia felt a little crawl of intense shame on the back of her neck, and her tail tucked between her legs and she slunk off to their burrow to hide herself, lest anyone look upon her. A tendril of the society that wanted no part of her lashed around her leg and clung to her like a stubborn nettle on a linen schenti.

It would only be a matter of time before there were others. Ophrys sought to civilize her, and on his clothing brought the burrs of civilized society.



Her mother destroyed several dresses before giving up, allowing her stubborn cub to do as she wished.

Ophrys taught her of many things: clothing and gestures, language and laughter. He brought her utensils and books, taught her to brush her hair and trim her claws.

But the veldt taught her things that he never would.



The fraility of life and the suddenness and finality of death were lessons that she had to learn by herself, and learn very quickly. There was no fanfare for the dying and no funeral for the dead. There was no grieving and no hand-holding and no heartfelt eulogies.

It just was.



Dahlia tried with all her might to save her youngest sister and worked her fingers raw against the cold teeth-trap but in the end, her mother carried her away by the scruff of her neck, and she cried but she didn't fight. Her mother still understood things that she did not.

Her mother understood that traps meant man, and man meant guns, and guns meant death.



Dahlia would come to understand man in the same way in time.



Death was not even the hardest lesson that she had to learn.



The hardest lessons were presented to her by people.

(They always would be.)



They did not match her colors, but they had eyes and noses and paws just like hers.

And those markings on the backs of their hands.

Ophrys had called them nadir without telling her what they meant.





It was not the easiest way to learn about what she was.

How the society that she sometimes yearned to be a part of viewed her.

A juxtaposition between the calculating cruelty of man and the mindless cruelty of the wild.

The dhelpra didn't understand how phenomonally unfair they were being to these defenseless kits. They smelled blood, and they were hungry. It is the way of nature for the strong to prey upon the weak; which didn't stop poor sensitive Dahlia from shrieking and crying for hours afterward.

(Shrieking, crying, and wondering.)



Had her coat been less amber, her paws and feet not coal black, would her mother have taken her in? Had her vision been less obscured by rain and wind, would she still have mistaken poor Dahlia for a stray cub?

Perhaps she would have ended up being a fine mouthful, just like those other kits.

Of course, these were not concerns that she could properly articulate to her mother; for the first time, Dahlia was acutely aware that her mother was an animal, and that she was very, very alone.



And, animals or not, she came to the conclusion that they were family.

(She always would.)

She would always have her dreams and the friends in them for comfort and conversation, anyway.

[blazelust]

"Dahlia, slow down."

"No. Fly faster."



"Unreasonable. You are being so unreasonable this cycle!"

"He lied to me, Six."

"He did no such thing. He spared you an awful truth."



"With a lie!"

"He cares very deeply for you. He knew that one way or another your feelings would be hurt and he didn't want to be the one to hurt them."

"Then he's a liar and a scaredy-rat."



"And that is even more unreasonable."

"Is that what happened to me? They threw me away like those other kits. Is that what Lapitti do?"

"The Sundara see that it is so."

"Then I don't want to be a Lapittus at all!"



"My mom's a dhelpra. I look like a dhelpra! I'll be one, too."

"Ah, I see."

"Will you also live in the wild all your life? Leading the simple life of a stupid animal?"

"Even now, I know you find yourself desperately craving conversation and companionship. Will you sate yourself by seeing your boy-kit in your dreams all your life?"

"Yes. Why not?"

"And what about when he is neither a boy nor a kit, but a man? And you are a woman?"

"Will it be enough for you then, Dahlia?"

"What's that mean? 'Course it will."

"You are naive."

"You may not always have this cocoon in your head to retreat into, Dahlia. Then you will feel very alone and you will have nothing."

"But Ophrys wouldn't leave me!"



"And neither will you, will you, Six?"

"I have not known many women to hold conversations with butterflies, Dahlia."

"But I will be here as long as you need me."

"Why d'you say such silly things all the time? You never even talked to me afore Ophrys taught me how."

"I said plenty."

"It is you that rarely listened."



"Your friend is here."

"I will lead him to you."

[Corny]

“Hi, Dahlia!”



“I brought some more stories with me!”

“...Ophrys.”

“Yes?”

“The symbols on the backs of my hands... what do they mean?”

“I already told you. They’re nadir.”

“I know what they’re called.”



“What do they mean?”

“Th-they mean that you’re a tala.”

“And what’s a tala?”

“A tala... is a kit that the parents didn’t want.”

“I thought so.”

“...Why?”

“We were walking at the edge of the b-badlands.”

“Mom and me.”

“And I saw a grown-up throw some kits out of a basket onto the ground.”

“Then they jumped on a big machine pulled by big beasts with hooves and ran away.”

“The kits. Th-they had markings just like me.”

“And then the dhelpra...”

“...I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Someone threw me away just like that.”

“Didn’t they?”

“Yes.”

“You knew that this whole time you’ve known me.”

“Yes.”

“Wh-why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why did you lie?”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Well you did!”

“You keep trying to teach me to be a Lapittus, and the Lapitti ddidn’t even want me!”

“So I don’t want them, either!”

“...they didn’t want me too.”

“Why?”

“I’m too pale. Lapittus aren’t supposed to be white like me.”

“But you’re not a tala, like I am.”

“I could’ve been. My parents... they sold me instead.”

“Well, you don’t have to be a Lapittus either!”

“I can teach you to be a dhelpra!”

“But I don’t look like a dhelpra.”



“I’m nothing.”



“You’re my best friend.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“Okay...”

“I’m sorry I yelled... I would like to hear some stories.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before... I brought the stories of the sun and the moon.”

“Read to me!”



“Alright.”

[blazelust]

In the beginning, there was only Suraja.

Borne out of the void in a brilliant flash of light and energy, she molded herself a corner of the cosmos to suit her needs. She was the first of the gods, and by far the most beautiful; hair like spun gold and a dress of the deepest blue, she burned brighter and more passionately than anyone that followed ever would. And as the first of her kind, Suraja found herself lonely.

She gathered up in her strong bright arms the energy and light left over from her birth and crafted the great land-disc, Leporandum. On its surface, where she shined, she sprinkled glistening sand and thick grass. She dragged her great fingers along its earth and filled it with pure, fresh water; and then she carved sharp peaks along its edges to contain all within.

The bottom of the disc remained cold and bare.

It was her finest creation, but it was not much for company. And so Suraja breathed life into the air, and created the tiny ant and the dancing butterfly; the prancing mrga and the prowling dhelpra. Alas, not a one of Suraja's creations could smile up at her, for she burned too brightly.

So she made the most treasured and beloved of her children: the Lapitti.

The smart, resourceful Lapitti came to love their mother as much as she loved them. Her warmth nourished them and her light lit their houses and fed their crops. The most precious of them all came to call themselves the Sundara, and they erected great temples in her honor and sang songs of her gifts to them. Yet not a one of them could ever meet her gaze for more than a moment, for she burned too brightly.

And Suraja looked, and saw that her gifts caused as much suffering as they cured; where there was warmth there was stroke, and where there was light there was blindness. In the most arid parts of Leporandum her children retreated underground, and lived in great warrens. They loved their mother, but her touch burned them, for she burned too brightly.

In shame, Suraja retreated over the edge of the disc, taking her light with her. And then there was Leporadum, and there was the void.

[Corny]

The void could not go empty for long, and in time the light and desire for companionship that Suraja had left behind would create a new god. He was pale and fair, and his light was not strong enough to blind or burn. Around him the void stayed dark, but the life on the land-disc could once again see and rejoiced in his light. Canda, the great white moon, lit up the night sky alone.

He was unhappy. He knew in his heart that he was to be the companion of Suraja, but she would not come out from beneath the disc to see him. He begged and pleaded at the edge for her to emerge, but she refused. She continued to hide in despair, too afraid of hurting him and her precious creations with her brightness.

In an effort to call her out, he played her a song so beautiful that its notes glimmered across the sky behind him, and stuck there ringing in the air. Suraja returned from the cold underside of the disc to listen and dance. Alas, in her joy and energy, she shone too brightly and burned Canda when he tried to touch her. Again falling into despair, she fled beneath the disc, but this time Canda would not let her escape. He chased after her across the sky and over the horizon, and she was forced to come out again on the other side.

For many days and nights this great chase continued. Canda refused to let her stay beneath Leporandum in misery, and wanted more than anything to be with her, even if it hurt him. Yet every time he got close enough to beg her to stop and let him be with her, she would dash away. Eventually, he began to lose hope. His light began to wane into near nothingness, until at once he stopped glowing.

He lay in the sky, miserable, and looked down at the sparkling trail of music below him. He was reminded of how her brilliance shone over the craggy mountains at every dawn, and how she had smiled when she heard his music. Immediately his heart swelled and his love and hope were rekindled. His light waxed in brightness until he was shining and full again.

Canda chases Suraja across the sky to this day, though sometimes still loses his hope. To regain it, he simply remembers everything he loves about her, and he glows with a renewed light.

“What nice stories! Does every Lapittus know these stories?”

“Most do. Lots of people worship Suraja.”

“Do you?”

“Well... I prefer Canda.”

“How come?”

“I can go outside and not be burned when he’s in the sky. I can never go out for Suraja.”

“So she really does burn people when she’s in the sky... I bet she’s really lonely.”

“I like being in the sun! It’s warm!”

“Your skin can handle it. Mine can’t.”

“It’s okay! When I teach you to be a dhelpra it won’t be a problem!”

“I want to hear all of the stories about Suraja and Canda. Tell me another!”

“Why don’t you tell a story? I always tell them.”



“Me?”

“I don’t know any stories! All of the stories I know are ones that you told me!”

“Try making one up, then!”

“But I’m not creative at all!”

“Not creative? You made this whole world from your imagination!”

“It used to always be the veldt, from your memory. This is all you!”

“Well...”

[blazelust]

He was right that she had absolute creative control over her dream, so why not use it?

She was pretty sure that there was a sleeping princess and a prince and a wicked queen in this story. And a knight. Was there even a prince? Maybe he was a servant. No, the prince was a knight. And also the wicked queen was someone’s mother. Or a fairy. Or both. And there was magic of some sort somewhere. And some kind of kiss. A magic kiss?

Whatever, there was a princess, and that’s what she cared about.





"Okay so!!!

There was once a sleeping princess put under a spell by a fae witch and a brave knight saved her! And that happened and they lived happily ever after except they didn't!”

“What? That was hardly a story.”

“I’m not finished yet! Shh!!

Because the fae witch was actually the knight's evil stepmother, and after he saved the princess she kidnapped him and locked him in the tower in her palace!



She dressed him in a steward’s rags and forced him to do awful things like scrub the floor and he wasn't even allowed to hunt! She was really mean!”

“Why is the knight the prisoner?”

“‘Cause the princess was the prisoner last time, fair is fair!”

“Fiiiiine.”

“So after the knight was gone the princess took the armor that he'd left behind and put it on and went to save him!



Except the sword was too heavy so she used her claws instead.

She prowled through the enchanted tower and fought all of the witch's minions and didn't even eat them 'cause evil tastes nasty! And she followed the witch's scent up the tower until she got to the tip-top, but it was a trap! The witch tried to curse the knight's armor so the princess would become one of her minions but the princess just took it off and fought her bare-handed!



How foolish of the fae witch to tangle with such a ferocious hunter!



After killing the witch the princess found her knight and they kissed! The end!”

“O-oh ggosh”

“Th-that story was okay.”

“It was the best story ever told!”

“Y-yeah.”

[Corny]

“Be careful! That’s dangerous!”

“You wouldn’t want to get infected...”

“Infected by what?”

“Cooties!”

“What’s a cootie?”

“It’s a disease!”

“Oh no! What does it do?”



“It makes you turn all red! And your heart pumps too hard! You sweat and shake whenever the person who infected you comes close!”

“Wow! That sounds bad!”

“It is! You start to shake if they touch you.”



“Oh no! It looks like it’s already beginning to set in!”

“Oh! How did I catch it?”

“You kissed me!”

“You infected me!”

“You infected yourself!”

“No!”

“Did too! And you didn’t even do it right!”

“What’s that mean?”

“That isn’t how you’re supposed to kiss somebody...”

“Like you know!”



“I do too! I know all about kissing.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“I’ll prove it!”



“Aaaaaa! I’m infected!”



“I’m done for! I’m gonna die!”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re infected too!”

“Well, I know the cure.”

“What, what is it?”

“More kisses!”

“You just want to infect me more!”



“No! I just want to kiss you again...”

“Oh...”

“Can I?”



“...I don’t know.”

[blazelust]

Elsewhere. Sometime in the future.

(Not long and not far.)

[blazelust]

One year the monsoon season came and went too quickly, as it always did.



The cold water of the blue vein that separated the barren badlands and grassy veldt receded, and the herds moved south, to the point where Canda and Suraja would leave the sky, where the savanna became a dense, wet jungle and moisture clung to the leaves. The nilesinga and the mrga and the hathfa marched on dutifully, leading the bheriha, who preyed on them.



Great families of dhelpra came, too, seeking water and following their food. Dahlia's mother led them during the light of day: herself, an adolescent brother, and three new and young siblings.

(Dahlia saw several siblings grow up and find mates and have kits and leave while she was growing. And even if she grew up fast enough for her tastes, there would be no mate waiting for her when she did.

And she would certainly never have kits of her own.)









Trailing behind came those that preyed on all of them.

They would pin them against the line of the jungle.

And this was the beginning of the dry season, or mausama dhelpra, to the lapitti - dhelpra season.

[blazelust]

At the beginning of this most peculiar mausama dhelpra, the young namra Ophrys found that he had grown into a fine young buck, months shy of the age of 17, the age that the family planning committee permitted individuals to apply for breeding licenses. On the day that he awakened fully matured he would open his eyes and find that nothing had changed for him. His duties as a man would be virtually identical to his duties as a spiry young kit. This was his blessing, and it was his curse.

He had civilized his friend Dahlia into an intelligent and cultured lapittus in mind only; as a physical specimen of a lapittine doe, she was a spectacular failure. Her body was not long or slender but rather short and stocky and her hair not fine and thin but remarkably thick and matted with great snarls of curl. Her fur shone gold against her dark skin, where it would be black or blue or the deepest mahogany on any proper lady; her arms and ears and feet were adorned with the sable points of the thousand-teeth, the dhelpra.

And such a fine dhelpra she had matured into! She was a satisfactory dhelpran vixen as the gaze of the dhelpra would not be quite so discerning for several thousand years. She had become a smart and fierce and agile hunter.



And her poor boy-kit had never really stood a chance.

[Corny]

Though fierce and dangerous, it was very rarely that the furrocious hunter ever harmed her prey. Instead, she chose to play. Despite the many mausamas that had passed and the strong bond the pair had formed between them, Dahlia liked to reassure her boy-kit that they were friends in the way she knew best.



He'd never doubted it for a minute.

[blazelust]

"Not so hard next time, Dahlia..."

"Ah, did I hurt you?"

"A little... I'm not as strong as your siblings!"

"Well then, show me where it hurts!"

"Mostly where I landed."



"I'm sorry!"

"Nngh... it's okay."

"How can I make it up to you?"

"It's not a big deal."

"Well, I think it would be fair if you picked the next game we play!"

"Oh!"

"Hm! This time I want to be the one to chase you!"

"Are you sure you're ready to chase such a skilled hunter?"

"I am!"

"Well, you're welcome to try! I'll warn you that I'm very dangerous! I'm not exactly easy prey!"

"I'm not afraid."

"Hmph! If you want to chase me then you'll have to find me first!"

"Fine! Go hide!"

"Fine! I will!"



"Close your eyes and count to twenty. No peeking!"

[blazelust]

"Alright, I'm counting now!"



"One... two... three... four..."



"...five, six, seven, eight..."

[Corny]

"Heehee!"



Dahlia may have been an expert at hunting and stealth, but she did not take into account Ophrys' highly sensitive ears! He could hear the direction she'd gone in. She wouldn't get away that easily!









"Here I come! I'm going to find you!"

[blazelust]

She’s... in the trees? That’s cheating!



“No fair! You know I can’t climb trees!”







“Come and get me!”

[Corny]

“Heeheehee!”



“Oof!!”

”Hah!”



“I got you!”

[blazelust]

”You got me!”
“A worthy opponent.”
“...a worthy match.”
”Huh?”



”...”



“We really fit together.”
”...Oh”
“Um, I-I guess.”



He'd never noticed before.

The heat of her skin.



How delicate and thin her long neck was, and how pleasurable the feeling of her quick pulse underneath his fingertips could be.

And the warm weight of his body over hers.

How their bodies seemed to fit right together, like the pieces of a puzzle.

How had he never noticed before?



* * *