Dusty Trails (MT: Geoda Tasks Prologue)

The Weavile dragged his feet along as he made his way up the trail. His eyes were shadowed, his ears drooping further than normal as he carried what little belongings he had. He hadn’t expected a strange sensation, a sense of loneliness gnawing on his being. When he walked out the apartment at the break of dawn, he carried his head high with pride. Now he gave pause, turning slightly to gaze at the city with a wistful glance. Yet why did it feel as if he left a piece behind?

A disgusted rumble resonated from his throat at the mere idea. There was no time for sediments. He had plenty more to deal with on his current course. She made her choice when she stayed. Not my fucking problem. Satisfied, he righted his slouching posture to one of confidence as he trudged along the path. He continued for a while, slowly down as his eyes narrowed on a particular tree. He brushed a paw against the harsh grooves; the angry claw marks that marred the tree deeply. Not his best work. He inhaled deeply, detecting a small hint of his old scent lingering.

Glancing to the side, his sharp eyes took notice of a hidden grassy trail that splintered off from the rest. Freshly new tracks imprinted the ground.

“I thought I told them to keep their tracks hidden,” he muttered, placing leaves over them.With a rumbling sigh, he traveled silently on the hidden path, his paws barely brushing against the soil. He scented no newcomers yet he remained vigilant, his ears swiveling constantly. Only the common chirps and peeps of neighboring Fletchling and Starly. His tongue suddenly flashed out to lick his maw, fresh eggs on the brain. The bitter taste of coffee lingered, appeasing his hunger to an extent.

He shook his head sternly. No distractions. As he entered the clearing, the wistful look returned in his crimson eyes. The base remained the same as it always has been. A small breeze blew by, the weasel breathing in the site.

“Home,” he said quietly. A small smile touched his maw. To use that word. It felt so right. Nothing felt so closer to a home than this place. He paced around the building, his paws brushing against the wood. “I made this with my own claws…”

Resting his head against the surface, he inhaled once more, the tension ebbing away.“Damn. I didn’t think I would miss this place so bad,” he chuckled, the sound lacking humor.

“Ven…?” The voice was quiet, timid, unsure.

Angry snarls and growls rose in his mind at the disquiet voice. Flashes of red and brightness. Groaning, he clutched his head, waiting for the disturbing events to pass. A presence came closer. Startled, a snarl emitted from his throat, claw poised to attack. A shriek had him motionless, the cowering form of a Combusken before him. Eyes widening, he lowered his claw to touch. She flinched at the sight, shielding her face. What the hell?

“Ven.”

He stared past, at the Bouffalant behind the fowl, buffalo’s amber gaze tense. The buffalo motioned, shuffling around the building. He wanted him to follow?

He glanced at the Combusken, ignoring the pain in his heart at the sight of her frightened pose, following at the Bouffalant.

The tension in the air was obvious as the two stared off. “Look I under-” the Weavile began.

“Be quiet.” The Bouffalant commanded, his eyes heated. “You do not get to excuse yourself out of this, Ven.”

Ven’s anger rose in response. “Like hell I was going to! Before you get on my ass about what’s right and wrong, did you her side of the story?!”

“She will not tell me. She has yet to tell anyone.”

Then I’m back at square one…

“There were other means than getting yourself into a fight over such things.”

“Oh gee! What was I going to tell my sister’s kidnappers?! Sit there and wait while I get the authorities?!” Ven said sarcastically with a sneer. “I did what any ‘mon would do! I fought! I fought for her!”

“Kidnapped?”

“Yeah! Why the hell else would I bother with a fight?! I might fight for the hell of it sometimes! But not in fucking public!” He knew better to not call unneeded attention to himself nowadays. Not since his run in with that Persian recently. “I have the Explorers and the Hunters watching my ass for stupid reasons. I don’t need anything else,” he spat, folding his arms tightly to his chest. His nostrils flared as he recalled the feline’s foul stench. There would be no mercy if he caught the feline out astray.

The Bouffalant gauged the Weavile’s temperament. All and all, his partner felt the same yet he sense something different about the weasel. A slight shift from the normal.

“Are you alright?” His question was met with a silence. Only a mere squint in Ven’s eyes, his grip tightening over his belongings. The small action conveyed it all to him. “Do you want to explain to me who that Sneasel was we saw with you days ago?” He thought it best to ask now, erase the stress in his partner’s eyes. However his words gained attention from the Combusken, who gazed curiously at the Weavile.

Ven’s fur prickled as he felt their stares on him. Heat rose in his cheeks as they observed him. He was relieved his dark fur hid the obvious telltale of embarrassment.

With a sharp hiss, he turned away from them. “She’s a f-friend…?” His voice was quiet, the words unsure. He was confused as to what their relationship was at this point. Friend? Was she a friend? She didn’t feel like a stranger to him at this point. They shared some secrets, unknowingly and willingly. She helped him out a terrible bind, suggested a place to stay… She helped him like no other would do for him.That’s what friends do right? He was hesitant to look back. No doubt they looking at him with disapproving.

Slowly, he looked from the corner of his eye. He blinked. The surprise was evident on their faces, no doubt they thought him incapable of earning a friend. The thought should have angered him. In fact it did.

“What?!” He barked when they stared for much too long. “You thought I could make a friend, didn’t you?!” He pointed angrily at the Bouffalant. “I did it! I made a friend! How do you feel about that?!”

“I am… proud.”

“I kne- What?!” Ven faltered, his face dumbfounded. That was definitely not what he expected. The Bouffalant’s eyes shone with honesty. He wasn’t lying and that only made him feel even more lost.

“I am proud that you have made a friend, Ven.” The Bouffalant repeated.The Bouffalant’s eyes shone with honesty. He wasn’t lying and that only made him feel even more lost.

“I am proud that you have made a friend, Ven.” The Bouffalant repeated. “To tell the truth… I was afraid you would never gain a friend. But to hear that you have. I am happy for you.”

Ven felt his heart tighten at the humble words. “Yeah, sure…,” he muttered under his breath, eyes planted on the ground, a claw placed around the vicinity of his constricting heart.

“Are you ready?”

Ven knew immediately what he meant. “Yeah. It’s time to get this show on the roll.”

There’s nothing left for you there. Why must you keep looking back instead of forward?

Chérie watched wordlessly as her sibling quietly gathered his things. They were told to pack light but she kept supplies on her. No telling what they might run into on the journey. He was uncharacteristically silent since their meeting. A distance gaze in his eyes whenever they laid on her. A small snort escaped him before he moved on to his task. That was all she received him. No hello. Nothing.

Inside she was furious yet grateful. There was a lot she wanted to chatter to him, about what transpired that day. But… Her gaze moved the Bouffalant keeping a vigilant look on the both of them. Brutus was not going to let the both of them out of his sight anytime. A small sigh escaped her. I can never escape someone’s constant watch…

A claw suddenly appeared in her view, startling her. She looked up, his crimson eyes on what she held. The worn black cape he dropped that day. He expected it back? She turned wistful. The old clothing gave her a sense of courage. She could do anything with it.

There was a slight tightening in his eyes. “Keep it. I don’t need it,” he said quickly, his voice gruff.

She straightened up, relieved to hear him speaking to her. Just as quickly however he dismissed her, his back to her. Clutching the cape closely, she watched mutely as he strolled outdoors without another word. Brutus silently followed after, bags tied to his side, signaling her with a look.

With a final parting look of the room, she quickly followed after, tying the cape to her neck. Anticipation build in her as she stepped out into the golden rays of the sun. There was a long journey ahead and she couldn’t wait to lay her eyes on the scenes!