Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

ACT 1

A normal day. That’s what it seemed like, anyway – nothing out of the ordinary; cards fine, mushrooms fine, flickering candlelight fine. Leshy was waiting patiently for the CHALLENGER to decide on whether to go to the campfire or the sacrificial alter, watching the unmoving, dark shape sit eerily still.

The world glitched. Once, drawn-out.

Leshy looked about, on-guard. The CHALLENGER did the same thing, choppy, quick movements that assured him they were still actively playing the game.

“That,” said Leshy, “was strange.”

Another glitch, shorter and more violent – the dark shape of the CHALLENGER twisted and changed, and with a choked, wet groan it –

Became real.

Leshy blinked.

He blinked again.

The person on the other side of the table drew a deep, rattling breath and bent over coughing, clutching at the table with pale hands. They had hair – dark blue antlers poked out of it, those of a deer, as well as a pair of brown rabbit ears.

“Excuse me?” said Leshy, eyeing them warily. “CHALLENGER?”

Their head whipped up. Teary-eyed they gawked at him, glasses smudged and rabbit-muzzle hanging open. “Y – you,” they stuttered. “I – I – how did – what did you do?”

“I have done nothing to bring you here,” said Leshy. “Are you the CHALLENGER?”

“My – my name is Lou,” the being stuttered, glancing frantically around the dimly lit cabin. “I – I’ve been playing Inscryption for a bit now, I – but I didn’t expect to – I’m not Luke, I –  ” They blabbered away, eyes growing wider and wider.

Their gaze fell on the unrolled map between them, and their words halted to a stop.

Slowly, they moved their piece to the campfire.

Leshy glanced between the piece and them. He hesitated before saying, “you come upon a group of survivors.”

Lou let out a meek whimper, burying their face in their hands. They cried, “I can’t do this! I can’t!” and shot up – stumbling over their own feet.

They had rabbit feet. Not only feet, but ankles and legs and thighs and hips. The tail of a fox swished through the air behind them in an attempt to keep their balance, and they were an amalgam of beasts –

just… like him?

They looked down at themselves and paled rapidly, moaning softly and plucking at their downy ears. “I – I’m going. It’s just you, right? It’s – ” They glanced back down at the table, grasping desperately for their deck and shuffling through the cards.

The Stoat’s muffled voice grumbled, “who the hell are you?” and Lou exhaled, slapping a hand over their face.

“Thank God. Thank God, okay. I – I gotta go. I gotta – I’m gonna have a breakdown.”

Leshy raised an eyebrow, folding his hands beneath his chin. “You are not having one now?”

Lou laughed. Hysterically. “Where’s the door?”

Leshy gazed pointedly at the door to his left.

“Not to your murder room!” Lou shrieked. “To the outside!” They blinked, seemingly recalling something. “Wait.” They spun, facing the wall, and cried, “what! It’s supposed to – why isn’t the door here!”

“Sit down,” said Leshy. “So we may discuss this calmly.”

“I am calm!” Lou said, shaking their hands vigorously. They scanned the darkness behind him, eyes widening briefly with relief.

And before Leshy could dart from his seat and grab them by the waist or wrist or ear or anything of the sort, they’d fled.

He didn’t go after them. He did as he always did – carved figurines, cleaned stamps, went over his deck and pondered whether he’d have to go look for more beasts to capture. He tidied, and existed, and made candles and groomed his fur.

When darkness fell, he went for his nest of moss and blankets and hides whatnot else and aimed for sleep.

It wasn’t long before he woke once more to the sound of talking. He blinked away sleep and rose from his bedding, creeping out into the darkened cabin to investigate. Not that he was afraid – there was nothing around to be afraid of, especially as he had his wildlife camera clutched in his hand, but Leshy had always been curious.

“-so this is a game, right?”

Lou had returned, snuck in through the unlockable door, and was now sat in the corner by the safe. They held three cards in their hands, speaking with them in hushed voices.

“Right, yes, this is – well, for me this is a game within a game, you play as some guy called Luke who’s discovered the disk in a forest but for me all of that storyline is just made-up and fake – no, of course it doesn’t mean that I – shut up, P03, all you care about is the Great Transcendence! … yeah, but bully him about it later, Grimora, I’m still trying to – somehow I’ve transferred either into the game, where a plotline you believe is real is currently playing out, or I’ve transferred through the game and into a different dimension entirely – but this is a game, right?”

Leshy quirked a grim smile. “Indeed it is, CHALLENGER.”

Lou whipped around to face him, upper lip twisted back in a slight snarl and ears perked to attention before they huffed and settled. “Don’t call me that.”

“I see you know more about us than the CHALLENGER would have, so I suppose I can grant your wish,” Leshy allowed, and stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight bleeding through the window. “Yes. This is a game. We are lines of code within a game, and you – supposed to be playing the CHALLENGER – have become one of us.”

“How?” said Lou, eyes thinning. Their cards – and Leshy knew which they were, so incredibly well – were clutched to their chest, now. “I know how powerful you are. All of you. You must’ve done something.”

Leshy spread out his hands, leveling them with a calm look. “I may be powerful, but I am not in control of the game.”

“This isn’t even what the game is supposed to be like,” Lou said. “It’s supposed to be – be, like, eight bit or something. Pokemon-like. I don’t really know, Act Two isn’t my favourite part, I’ve heard people call it Yu-Gi-Oh, too, or something like that. Again. Don’t really know.” They groaned, rubbing at their forehead. “Fuck, sorry, I’m rambling. I’m really tired.”

“Hmm.” Leshy tilted his head, watching as Lou grew awkward beneath the weight of his gaze. It took longer than expected. “Why did you return?”

Lou blinked, the awkwardness dropping instantly as they straightened. “What, here? Hello? Where else would I go? The bridge is broken, the Angler won’t speak to me, the Prospector just tells me riddles and Grimora’s place sets me off in all the wrong ways. I can’t live in the forest.”

Leshy hummed again, tilting his head the other way. “And I suppose you thought I would welcome you?”

“I needed answers,” said Lou, gesturing vaguely with the cards. “And it was the lesser of two evils. I have no doubt you’d gut me like a fucking fish if you wanted, hence why I did not,” they said, reaching into their pocket, “just eat this thing, like P03 told me to do when I refused to use it.”

They held out a small item no human eye would ever be able to spot in the darkness.

But Leshy was no human, and cold horror rolled in over him like fog in fall. “How did you get that?” he snapped.

“Magnificus’ eye,” said Lou, pointing to one of their eyes. “He left paint on the clock and the roll behind a puzzle. Seriously, Leshy, you gotta watch your stuff. See, the way the game goes is we die enough times and then beat you in a game of cards, but when you go to kill us again we take a picture of you instead. It effectively resets everything.”

How could they speak of it so lightly? How could they – how – “You little,” he grumbled, taking a looming step forward.

Lou shrugged and threw the film-roll in his direction. “Just take it.”

They leaned back against the wall as Leshy dove forward to catch the filmroll, folding his fingers around the precious item.

Angered shrieks were heard from the game cards.

“Oh, shut up!” Lou exclaimed, glaring down at them. “You know what, this is the kindest way to go! P03’s just gonna fuck everything up once it resets, don’t you get it? You can’t live in peace! Your egos are all way too fucking big!” They tapped their own temple rapidly, eyes thin with fury as they shuffled over to loom over the cards discarded on the floor. “You fucking morons, at least Leshy is kind about this stuff, sure, yes, you’re in a card and your bodies are rotting for all I know behind that stupid ass door, but – but P03 would reject you all and lock you away and try to kill you.”

The Stunted Wolf’s voice, distantly, grumbled, “then we would reset that, too.”

“And what would happen then?” said Lou angrily. “Oh, right, let me tell you. Grimora deletes the whole fucking world! And there’s this super emotional ending scene where you shake hands with her and Leshy and then you, Magnificus, drag your rotting corpse across the ground in a desperate fucking attempt at shaking a false entity’s coded hand! It’s pathetic! It really is!”

They exhaled heavily, collapsing back against the wall. Their eyes slid shut, nose twitching once before stilling.

“If you’re gonna shove me into a card,” said Lou, “then could you just do it? I’m not one of your beasts, but I won’t fight it.”

Leshy blinked owlishly. People has asked – begged – to be made into cards before, but never as a death sentence. “Do you not wish to live?”

Lou sat silently for a few moments, eyes flicking to the side. “I do,” they slowly said. “I do,” they repeated, with more conviction. “But not if you’re just gonna kill me anyway. I don’t want it to hang over my head and paint my every move as possibly-my-last.” They cracked a smile. “Maybe it’d even send me back to my world. That’d be quite the twist, huh? Not that anyone would believe me.”

It was a lot of information all at once. Leshy was, quite honestly, not entirely sure what this world Lou came from looked like. “And what if it doesn’t?”

“Send me back?” Lou said, raising a pale eyebrow. They shrugged. “Guess I’m dead. Whatever. About time. Or if you don’t wanna kill me I guess I’ll have to just… stay. Figure out something else, or something. Maybe I can build a hut in the forest.”

“Does it not bother you?” said Leshy, perplexed, turning a hand over palm-side-up in a gesture he’d seen Grimora use – the only thing closest to the human body language Lou seemed to be using that he could think of. “Leaving everyone – everything – behind?”

A flicker of pain. “I have a girlfriend,” Lou said, slowly. “I’m going to miss them, I guess. And a few friends, too. But I’ll get over it. It’s not the first time I’ve…” They hesitated, then shook their head. “Besides, I’m not on my own..”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

Lou smiled. There was no amusement, no humour in it – just the stretch of chapped lips, a hint of blood beneath too-thin skin and the teasing of chipped teeth behind the flesh. They prodded at their skull, saying, “there’s more than one person in here.”

What a curious thing, this amalgam of beasts.

That did it.

“I will not be taking your picture,” said Leshy. He refused to call it killing – it was not, would never be. It was, at most, relocation. “You may stay here, if you so wish… on one condition.”

Lou tilted their head forward expectantly.

“You continue the game. You say you have beat me before.” He smiled. “I would like to see that happen.”

Lou snorted. “Sure. On one condition.”

“Name your price.”

“Don’t fucking kill me when I beat your furry ass, yeah?”

“That,” said Leshy, smile widening, “can be arranged.”

*

He hauled some blankets into the main room of the cabin – after Grimora had chastised him for not taking proper care of his guests – and let Lou figure it out themselves.

Sleep was peaceful that night.

*

Lou was awake when he resurfaced the next morning, blinking at him with tired eyes from their heap of blankets. Their tail, which had surprised them so when they first appeared, was curled up around them. “Morning,” they said, tracking every movement he made as he stretched. “Do you, like… do you eat?”

Leshy nodded with a grunt, not quite awake yet and certainly not ready to deal with Lou. “I’m assuming you’re hungry.”

Lou nodded, hand resting on their pale stomach.

“Come,” said Leshy, waving at them dismissively before making his way towards the door. The sun was rising outside, painting the forest a rather nice shade of golden as he headed around the cabin towards the vegetable patch out back.

He didn’t check to see if Lou followed. The sound of a light tread behind was proof enough for that. They stood, shifting from foot to foot as Leshy harvested tomatoes and a cucumber and a handful of potatoes.

“Should I get something?” Lou eventually asked, gaze flicking uncertainly.

Leshy looked up at them, dirt to his elbows and smudged in his fur, brow perked. He eyed them and their hands, noting for the fifth time their dexterous nature, their broad, worker’s palms. “Strawberries,” he said, jabbing his head in the direction of the red-speckled bushes. “Get some.”

“Er,” said Lou, as he turned back to his work. “What should I… uh, okay, nevermind.”’

Together they worked in silence, the sunrise turning from piercing to gentle to the pale blue of early, just-rose morning. When he turned to Lou later, their shirt – it was short, stopping just above their belly-button – had been lifted into a makeshift basket and was stained red by heaps of strawberry.

Leshy nodded, heading back inside. In daylight the whole cabin was well-lit, enough so to show off all the doors the shadows usually hid – the one to his storage, of course, and the entry door, but also the one to the kitchenette and his sleeping area.

They ate – silently, strained. Lou had deep bruises beneath their eyes, their hands shaking more with each passing minute.

“When do you want to play?” Lou asked, as they finished the last of their bread. “The game, I mean.”

“Only after the sun sets,” said Leshy, who was feeling far more agreeable now that he had eaten and woken and had his first sip of fresh air. “It paints the most beautiful atmosphere.”

Lou nodded. “Yeah, same, I get that. What do you…” They toyed a bit with their sleeves, not looking at him. “What do you do the whole day?”

Leshy landed them a long, deliberate look.

They did not buckle.

“I can show you,” he allowed.

*

He spent the day taking Lou through the woods, carving wood and foraging, chirping to birds and stopping by the various beasts that would let him greet them on their path. Lou trekked behind him, nervous at first but slowly opening up to the song of the woods. He could practically see it, their ribcage expanding in a gentle glow of light as it was allowed entry.

They stopped by the lake. He waded into it to clean himself, but Lou remained ashore, settling with folded feet a rabbit would never be able to duplicate, watching him with a strange sort of ease he struggled to understand.

“Do you meditate a lot?” they called out to him, after he had washed out leaves and twigs from his hair. They would grow back within a week, but he preferred keeping them in check anyway.

“No,” said Leshy, dragging fingers through his longer fur to squeeze out water. “Not in the traditional way.”

Lou grunted, rolling their head to the side. One of their ears lolled over their shoulder, flirting with the blades of grass beneath. The corner of their mouth quirked up into a small smile.

It melted off their face within seconds, replaced with a rapidly growing scowl. Their eyes – something changed about them, the colour shifted, darkening into a greener shade as they straightened and huffed. “This is ridiculous.”

Leshy paused, hand tangled in fur as he blinked at them. “…what?”

“It’s ridiculous,” repeated Lou – but they didn’t look like the same person anymore, not quite, holding themselves differently… “I don’t trust you one damn second. I’ve seen how you are in the game, I know what you’re like. How Lou doesn’t see it I have no idea.”

Leshy narrowed his eyes, lowering his hands as he drew himself up to his full height. “You are not Lou.”

“No,” agreed the Not-Lou, “I am not. I can’t do much about you – this body isn’t much better than the old one. But I will do everything within my power to keep them alive and safe.”

“If I wanted Lou dead,” said Leshy, “they would be.”

The Not-Lou inclined their head with a twist of their lip. “I don’t know what you’re planning. But I will find out. I – I…” The disgusted expression warped, the Not-Lou folding in on themselves with a low groan. Their ears fell forward to shield their face, hands coming up to cover their eyes.

When they lifted their face, their eyes were blue once more. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. That was Melchior. He’s a furry gremlin man.”

Leshy raised a single brow.

Lou paled, then whimpered and buried their face in their hands again. “I’m so sorry!”

He tilted his head, water trickling down through his fur.

A smile brushed by his lips.

He shook his head and made his way back towards the shore, placing a hand briefly on Lou’s head as he walked by them. It wasn’t before he’d gotten a bit further down the path that he turned, looking back at them with a raised eyebrow. “You will have to try harder than that to insult me. Come along. We must tend to the garden.”

*

They were an enigma. So many questions were raised about them, and the people in their head who referred to the body as new – but he would not ask. Answers would be a favour, and not one he would enjoy owing them. He had learned, over time, to not underestimate his enemies.

Or anyone at all, as was the case here – because, for all that Lou was an enigma and puzzle who knew far more than was good for them, they were also kind. They were amusing and bright and took quickly to learning, and they were good at the game. It was different, playing with Lou compared to the CHALLENGER, even if they technically were the same person.

It was because Lou could smirk at him over their cards and bemoan beasts he put onto the table and whisper encouraging words to the cards who wouldn’t speak back.

“That is an ant,” said Leshy, the first time that particular thing happened. “It cannot hear you.”

And Lou had glared at him, the candle reflected in their smudged glasses, and said, “well, duh.”

They were intriguing and potentially dangerous and he was drawn in, time and time again, even when he thought it wiser to send them off to live somewhere else. They helped in the garden and the forest – even tried carving wood. They failed at that and the blade slipped and dug into their hand, and they apologized profusely when they bled all over his thighs when he patched them up.

Some part of him considered taking them on as an apprentice.

Some other part of him, equally as loud, thought they had a gift of their own worth exploring. They might not be a Scrybe, but there were still Scrybe-like entities, powerful ones at that.

Mostly, he tried to get through the days and their cultural clashes and the times Melchior came out to snarl at him.

*

It was late morning, and Lou had not yet woken. Leshy nudged the pile of blankets with his hoof, saying, “it is late. I have already been in the garden. Why haven’t you risen yet?”

The pile of blankets - out of which a pair of antlers stuck - shuffled, emitting a soft sniffling sound and a groan.

Leshy raised an eyebrow. “There is breakfast in the kitchen. Go ahead and eat, we have much to do today.”

After a pause, Lou’s face peeked out from their hiding spot. Their eyes were wet, and they sniffled again, but sat upright and rubbed their eyes and muttered, “okay.”

They took two bites of a slice of bread, then pushed it aside with a wince and rubbed so vigorously at their eyes that their glasses were knocked askew.

“Very well,” said Leshy, and made for the door. Lou dragged themselves out of their chair and thumped to the floor, trudging after him.

At the doorstep, however, they stopped - drew a long, shaking breath. Leshy turned, giving them a pointed look.

They squeezed their eyes shut and whispered, “it’s not fair.”

Leshy cocked his head. “Is it not fair that you pull your load when you live beneath my roof?”

“It’s not that,” Lou grumbled. Their blue eyes were wet with tears when they glared up at him. “It’s not fucking fair! That I - that I go here and I get this body and it still is wrong. That it’s falling apart beneath me and burns and slogs and rots!”

He could see it as they spoke, as the words left their mouths and bled into the air - green, sickly splotches painting Lou’s hips and lower back and floating about their head.

“It’s fine that my companions are here, I would be bereft without them, I get that - but my hands! My body, my everything, it isn’t fair how it’s falling apart!”

White little stars tangled with the green mist around their head, red spikes wrapping about their fingers. Leshy’s tail twitched rapidly at the sight; their frustration was tangible, but the possibilities…

“I love being here,” Lou continued, “I do, it’s great, and I - I’m glad it’s you, but why am I haunted by this? This - my body, yes, it is my body, but it’s not the old body, it’s not human, why does - ” They inhaled sharply, going as if to cover their face with their hands again - stopping, abruptly, once they saw the red spikes. Their voice rose in pitch. “And what the fuck is that?”

Leshy took one of their hands, folding his much larger around them and the darkened nails. “Such language,” he murmured, watching as Lou blinked away tears and the coloured patterns faded into their skin. “It appears you have some abilities untapped, beast… how incredibly fascinating.”

Lou’s face darkened. “I’m not one of your beasts,” they said – but there was no anger to their voice. “I’m tired, Leshy. I’m really, really tired. I – I can try helping you, but I might pass out or something.”

“You’re quite poetic when you want to,” said Leshy, letting go of their hand. Still he loomed over them – him draped in sunlight, them cradled in shadow.

“Huh?” Lou blinked, cocking their head – then barked a laugh. “Oh, lol, if you think that was poetic... nah chief, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“I see,” said Leshy, raising an eyebrow. “Well – if you are tired, I suppose you may go back inside. Are you sick?”

“Sick?” Lou chuckled, leaning heavily against the doorframe. “I guess you could say that. It’s called fibromyalgia, it’s a chronic illness. It… basically means I get tired way easily, and everything hurts all the time and way too much. And I’m… really, really mad it’s followed me into this world.”

Leshy straightened, blinking down at them with new eyes.

An illness had haunted their very steps all this time? How well had they hidden it for him to not notice?

When they woke with tears in their eyes he knew something was wrong, of course, but he wanted them to say it themselves – to not coddle, to teach them they had to communicate. And they had – but it seemed to have backfired somewhat, as well.

“I apologize,” he said. “It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

Lou blinked. Their eyes welled with tears. “Whuh – what?”

“If my negligence has harmed you in any way, I… must apologize,” Leshy elaborated. “I have not been trying to hurt you, these past days. I will take better care of you from now on.”

Lou tried, with great willpower, to compose themselves – swallowing deep breaths and squeezing their eyes shut, fists trembling by their sides as they breathed, breathed, breathed. A few lone tears slid down their round cheeks. They wheezed, peering up at him through spider-leg-lashes. “Can – can I hug you?”

Leshy blinked, not exactly reeling back but certainly doing a double-take. “I’m… sorry?”

Lou drew a deep breath and raised their chin. “Can I hug you?” Their voice rose and broke across the words the way a wind would break over the trees in fall.

Leshy worked with animals and so did not have much requirements for personal space.

He opened his arms.

And Lou came undone into him, exploding forward with a keen – arms wrapping around his torso, hands clutching at his fur, face buried in his chest as the keen rose to a sob rose to a wail. Leshy folded his arms around them, considered touching their tail to see if it was as fluffy as it looked, and decided against it.

For a while he let them cry, and when they seemed to quiet and calm down, he ushered them inside and down into their pile of blankets and helped them tuck one over their shoulders and rested a hand on their head and muttered, “let me know if you need anything.”

He didn’t realize he was making them tea before he stood with the finished, steaming cup in his hand, staring blankly at the counter of the kitchenette.

Why did he care?

It didn’t matter what Lou said; they were one of his beasts, simply because they were his charge and they were a beast and so, they were his beast.

And he took care of his beasts. He ensured they were fed, enriched, safe, cared for.

And maybe it hurt, just a little bit, seeing Lou cry.

*

He went ahead with his usual chores – tending to the garden, foraging in the forest, plucking mushrooms from his fur. In the evening he made food, cooking some mushrooms on the stove and slicing up some carrots and tomatoes on the side. He never had needed much food.

Lou was still in their little pile of blankets and moss when he approached with a plate. They looked up at him when he folded his feet beneath himself and settled on the floor beside them. “Dinner,” he announced, handing them their food.

A small smile lit their features. It seemed more sad than happy, but he didn’t have much experience with smiles. “Thanks,” they said, and shuffled around until they sat up beside him. “I’m sorry.”

Leshy, who had been about to shovel some carrots into his mouth, stopped. “For what?”

Lou winced, looking aside. “For being useless.”

“You are apologizing,” Leshy said slowly, tasting the words, brows furrowing, “for being… sick?”

“I guess. Yeah. Yes, I am.”

Leshy sat back, watching them with the same frown. He wanted to understand them – wanted to solve this enigma, this puzzle, unravel every string from their tapestry and see what made them tick. “What does it feel like?”

Lou’s ear twitched. “The pain?”

“Yes.”

“It’s – it varies,” Lou said, toying with a blanket pooled over their lap. “It’s this dull constant, most of the time… imagine, like – ”

“Close your eyes,” said Leshy.

Lou blinked owlishly. “Huh?”

“Your eyes,” Leshy repeated. “Close them. I merely want to try something.”

“Er… okay…?” Lou gave him a suspicious glance, but did close their eyes. “Melchior’s watching, you know. He really doesn’t like you.”

“And I do not like him,” said Leshy, smiling thinly. “Do tell Wang I would enjoy another talk soon. Or perhaps Dragonfly, I am not picky.”

Lou scoffed and made the little twitch of their head that always accompanied an eyeroll. “Duly noted, Your Majesty. So, now what?”

Leshy swept his hand in a general gesture. “Continue describing your pain. You were about to tell me to imagine something, I believe.”

“Ugh, right… er. What was… oh, yeah! Imagine your lower verta – verte – vertebrae? The lowest bone in your spine, imagine it’s slowly expanding, blooming like a metal flower into this core of pain that infects the rest of the spine, fading out into a dull ache.”

As Leshy had suspected, strings of light snuck their way out of Lou’s skin – a small flower at the low of their back, radiating pulses of light that tapered the higher they came.

“Is that all?” he asked, unable to look away from the flower.

Lou shifted. The light shifted with them with such ease it almost impressed him. “No – in my hips, there’s this gnawing – I know it’s not actually like it, but it feels like the bones are just grating, raw, at one another. It’s a muscle thing, I know that, and it’s not exactly inside of the bone – slightly to the side, outward, but definitely there. It’s this… sickly green pain. Dull, again, it’s almost always dull, this ache.”

A hologram of hip bones and joints – sickly green – had appeared; on-in-around-within Lou’s hips. The vision squirmed whenever he tried to tilt his head, sometimes clinging to their fur, something sinking deep inside yet somehow visible.

“I see,” he said, drawing out the words. Even in his fascination, he threw them a quick look. The pain they were describing – it might not be overly bad in the moment, that dull ache. But, even in his games, a drawn-out death was impolite, was boring, was distasteful and frustrating.

Living with it? Constantly?

Waking every day feeling like a metal flower was chewing into your spine?

“That’s not to mention the fatigue,” said Lou, sighing heavily. They rolled their head from side to side with a grimace. “It’s like I’m moving through life coated in honey. And NOT in a good way!”

A dim, yellow glow erupted from them – swirling in slow, gentle patterns similar to those of waves; pulling in, drawing out, waxing and waning.

“And my hands, always shaking – I’m not nervous, but it’s still like – it’s so frustrating, trapped by my own body – ”

The red spikes about their wrists returned, circling slowly around the bone.

“I wish it wasn’t like this. I feel so small, so weak – useless, like I just said – I mean, none of my headmates like fronting because they say the body is too broken.”

A smattering of tiny, white stars dotted their hair.

With the fifth glowing concept, whirling rivulets of bright blue tore free from their antlers – following the curves and bends of the bone, faster with each turn until the glow exploded outward.

Leshy sat back, watching the cinematic wonder unfurling; the pulsating flower, the flickering bones – the honey-glow, the red spikes, the stars and the swirls.

Could he push it further?

“Say something poetic.”

“Huh?” said Lou – Leshy dove forward to cover their eyes with his hand, knocking aside their glasses in the process.

“No looking,” he murmured. Lou drew a sharp breath beneath him, a barely-there shiver running through them. “Not yet. But please, do say something poetic.”

“Uh – uh, uhm.” Lou flailed for words, the skin beneath his palm twitching as they thought; they began to stutter, then speak, growing with confidence. “I was out at my dad’s lighthouse once – I mean, it’s not his, he works there, but he’s one of the higher ups – anyway, I was out there once, after dark – I’d driven out with some friends and the wind tore through our jackets, burrowing into the marrow and nursing off the lifeblood there…”

The glow grew, thickening. In the distance, Leshy could almost make out a muffled, howling wind.

“The others complained, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t – I couldn’t, not when I tilted my head back and saw the whole universe in the sky. There was more star than darkness, Leshy, can you believe it? Like a blanket, as though we were tiny creatures in a glass jar someone had wrapped in black paper – as though some gracious being had poked holes in it, hundreds, thousands, to let us see the light and gain a glimpse of what might, one day, be…”

They inhaled shakily – and when they exhaled, the cabin darkened, the ceiling giving way for tiny seeds of light. More stars than darkness, like a blanket, paper-wrapped-jar, as though Lou had poked holes in it.

Leshy exhaled slowly, chest expanding so far he thought it might break even as his lungs emptied. What was making him grow, his chest expand, what was it that filled him from top to bottom and made his fingers buzz? What was this, making him feel so young, so small, no longer the powerful Leshy, Scrybe of Beasts?

“And the night was cold,” Lou whispered, “but the stars were warm, and so was I, and I felt like I’d come… home.”

Leshy slid his hand from Lou’s eyes to rest against their arm, fingers curling loosely around the cloth of their jacket. He leaned in and murmured, “open your eyes.”

Lou’s eyes had changed. When the lids fluttered open light burst from the right – it spiraled, blue, constantly in motion, constantly shifting shades.

“Oh,” they whispered. “Wh… what is…”

“You, my glorious beast,” said Leshy, pushing further than he’d ever pushed before to cradle their glowing face in his hands, “have powers unlike any I have ever seen.”

The visions flickered, then winked out – Lou’s eye returned to normal, and they blinked rapidly before pulling away from him. “I do? I – I mean… okay, to be completely honest I’m not surprised. But at the same time… I do?”

“Indeed,” said Leshy. “Ones I will relish exploring.”

Lou gave him a hard look. “Not without my consent.”

Leshy inclined his head. “A fair deal.”

*

“Show me the board, dear.”

Lou obediently turned the Stinkbug around to show Grimora the board. Leshy sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This surely qualifies as cheating.”

“Hey, you’re the one who made them talk,” said Lou, eyes scanning whatever Grimora was whispering. They must have Magnificus or P03 in there, too, for they kept glancing between two specific cards. “Besides, you’re jut mad I keep winning. Oh, good idea, Grim, I’ll do that. Or… actually, let me try…”

They played a squirrel and ended their turn.

Leshy dealt four damage, tilting the scales decidedly in his favour.

Without as much as a smirk, Lou sacrificed the squirrel, their rabbit, and a bullfrog.

They played their 6/4 field-mice Great White. With flight.

Along with their fawn that would deal enough damage to make them equal once again. A good play, all things considered, but he had a grizzly incoming who would –

Lou smashed their only item – a bottle with a Sacrificial Goat – sacrificed the fawn, and played their second Great White.

Leshy couldn’t help but smile when they tapped the bell, dealing twelve damage.

“Well played,” he allowed, inclining his head. “Who guided you?”

“Me, bitch.”

Leshy chuckled, raising his hands defensively. “Yes, yes, alright, no need for such language. Was it so that you wanted to prepare dinner for tonight? I believe it is about time.”

Lou clapped their hands and stood, nodding as they went. “Yup, for sure. You’re so white when it comes to cooking it hurts.”

“I am a tree.”

They laughed, yelling from the kitchenette, “a very white tree!”

Leshy chuckled, shaking his head as he begun to pack the map and playing pieces.

*

That night was summer’s last hoorah – a heatwave rolled in from the south, so powerful it rose Leshy halfway trough the night to shake off a pelt he’d covered himself in. He was good at heat regulations otherwise, and so was quick to fall back asleep.

His brief waking overnight meant he was quick to rise, though – he usually got up during twilight hours, but now the moon stood low in the sky when he rose to wakefulness. He wasn’t one to dawdle, so he made quick work of plucking aside the leaves that’d grown in his sleep while creeping into the kitchen to drink some water.

On his way back to the bedroom, there was a flicker of light – something golden, just for a second, but it caught his attention and he turned towards Lou’s corner.

They were asleep, still, glowing so faintly it was barely visible. They had never glowed in the dark before; they must be dreaming of something that activated their abilities. That was not the thing that drew him closer, however – he cocked his head, intrigued, and crossed the room to crouch beside their still form.

Despite the cropped t-shirt Lou wore beneath their cotton jacket, Leshy had never seen more skin than the soft of their belly and the bare of their arms. He didn’t understand it, exactly – it was a human thing, Grimora had once explained, but it hadn’t enlightened him much.

Up until now, they had always slept with covers – blankets, and their tail, and their jacket. But now it was warm; they’d kicked off their blankets in their sleep, tail draped off to the side and chest bare to the humid air of night.

Their head was turned aside, as much as their antlers allowed, an ear draped tastefully across half their face. As Leshy watched, their expression twisted into a grimace – it remained for a few moment, clinging to life, then faded back into serenity.

“Hmm,” said Leshy, cocking his head.

Their chest rose, sunk, rose and sunk, their round breasts spilling over to the sides in one smooth, perfect curve. Stretch marks – he knew what they were, Lou had explained after he asked about the scars-that-weren’t-scars on their stomach – traced the arcs of their flesh, reaching like starving branches towards their large, pinkish nipples. Or was it nipples? It seemed only like a change in the skin’s shade, a small nub at the center… how strange.

The fur on their legs was matted and stuck in strange directions; did they never groom it, or had they had a restless night? Were they sweating? Could they sweat, through the fur? He reached out, touching a careful few fingers to the beast’s tail.

Soft, yes. Fluffy. How would it feel if he could touch it in its entirety, run his hands over their thighs – spread them, burrow into them, taste Lou on their tongue?

Leshy shifted his weight backward, resting on the back of his hooves with a small hum. Lou had not moved in their sleep, likely not even registered his presence. How strange. They had quite the attractive form – why would they choose to hide it?

They stirred, eyelids fluttering. The glow withdrew into them, flashing briefly before disappearing – and Lou opened their eyes, heavy with sleep. A soft sound escaped them – they noticed Leshy watching and squeaked, shuffling back – tail flicking up to cover their chest, arms coming around to clutch it closer. “Wh – what – ”

“I do not understand that,” said Leshy, tilting his head at them. “Why do you hide yourself away?”

Lou opened their mouth, spluttered something, and shoved their face into their tail.

“There you go again,” he said. “Why? Are you worried? Ashamed?”

Lou’s shoulders shook with a deep breath. Their eyes peeked out over their tail. “Is – is this a teaching moment?”

Leshy quirked a smile, arms folded over his knees to keep his balance. “I suppose.”

“Humans,” Lou began, frowning and looking aside before picking up the pace. “Er, in the society I’m from, it’s – bare skin is a very… intimate thing. You don’t really show it without reason to – and, uh, there’s a lot of pressure on looking perfect.”

Leshy raised his eyebrows, tilting his head the other way. “How can one look perfect?”

Lou chuckled drily. “You set an impossible standard and those who have those traits are considered pretty.”

“I see,” said Leshy. He eyed them for a long moment. “You need not worry. You are not just a pretty face to me.”

Blinking rapidly, Lou sounded, “hæ? Ah, uh, sorry?”

“You are considered pretty, yes?”

Lou burst out laughing. Leshy’s ears twitched at the loud sound, then interest caught him when Lou laughed so hard they fell over onto the side. They had a contagious laughter; Leshy couldn’t help but chuckle a bit himself, even as they calmed.

“No, I’m not,” they said. “I’ve never been. My face is too wide and I’m too big. I’m short and stocky, I’ve got too high cheekbones…” They shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t really care about my face. I think it’s decent, it’s alright. But – ”

They cut off when Leshy grasped their chin in his hand, gazing intently at their face. Their face, yes, he had seen it so many times without ever truly seeing it – a bit square in the shape, a nose much smaller than his yet proportionally right for their face – a natural hollow to their cheeks that made the cheekbones seem higher than they were; tall forehead hidden by those white-ish bangs and big, blue eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with your face,” Leshy dismissed, though he did not let them go – opting for a puzzled look. “I don’t understand.”

“W – well,” Lou stuttered, cheeks darkening with a rush of blood. “Well! You – you’re not exactly human, so I – I guess that’s legit.”

“And your body?” Leshy asked, releasing them to sit back and give them a better look. They had relaxed, the tail sloping off to the side to reveal a breast. “Surely, there is nothing wrong with it.”

“You – you think?” Lou chuckled, tucking some hair away from their face and glancing aside. “I – I mean, except for the obvious, you know, the chronic illness – uhm.”

Leshy frowned, cocking his head aside to give them an askew look. “Has someone told you otherwise?”

Lou’s silence was answer enough. Something cold – something quite like anger – began to creep down his back. His voice softer, darker, “have you been hurt?”

“Leshy – ”

He grabbed their arm – gentle, for once – turning them towards him. He need not touch their face; they turned readily to him, wide eyes clear with no construction, no glasses or sleep or confusion, just the faint lines of worry etched permanently into skin. “Who has hurt you?”

Lou’s breath shook. Leshy cradled their cheek in his palm, tilting their face into his skin, feeling for imperfections, for wounds, for old hurts he had never even seen the shadow of before now. “I’m fine,” said Lou, “I am, really. It’s – it’s better, now.” They lowered their voice, casting their glance downward. “You’re better.”

Leshy tilted their head back up again, repeating, “who?”

Lou closed their eyes. “Just about everyone. Family. Classmates. Some friends. A – a girl – ” They cut off, jerking away from him and hiding their face away. Once again their tail came up to shield them from view.

“A girl?”

“It’s in the past,” said Lou quietly, flatly. “Don’t worry about it.”

Leshy watched their shoulders tense, pull down, neck bending. “I can tell you want me to. You aren’t subtle. A girl, Lou. What did she do to you?”

The sun had begun to rise outside, the air lightening. Paradoxically, the cabin darkened – distantly, the sound of waves and hollering voices.

“I can’t tell you,” Lou whispered. “It’ll change everything. It haunts me, she always will. Everything always changes when people learn.”

Darker again, rushing water giving way for whispered voices and a muffled scream. A child sobbing, then the water returned – accompanied by an unfamiliar melody.

“It won’t change,” said Leshy. “You have changed everything already.”

Lou shook their head, bent forward over their knees. “You’ll treat me differently.”

“If anything,” said Leshy, raising an eyebrow, “I would treat you better.”

“You treat me good,” Lou argued, raising their head to squint at him. Why would they squint? Had he said something wrong?

No – their gaze was unfocused. Right! Their glasses – he plucked them from the ground, reaching over to place them on their muzzle.

“I rest my case,” Lou mumbled, adjusting the glasses. “You’re kind to me, Leshy. Much kinder than I thought you’d be.” A small chuckle. “You’re even growing on Melchior.”

Leshy shook his head. He wouldn’t let this go so easily. “You hide so well, my beast, for so long. I must have been blind, to not notice you were hurting – worse, you fierce thing, I have been ignorant.” He shuffled closer – not touching, never again without their consent, not until he knew what had been done to them, until he knew where it hurt. “You have hidden so well for so long. Uncloak the shadows, now. Do you not want to step into the light?”

“And let you see all my imperfections and cracks?” Lou whispered. “No, I think not. The night is my friend. I won’t turn my back on it.”

He sighed, inclining his head and drawing back. “As you wish.”

Stalemate. They watched each other as the darkness receded, allowing early daylight to flood the cabin. Leshy turned away; rose.

Crossed the room.

And all at once a storm came over them, Lou’s voice rising above a clap of thunder – quiet, barely a whisper yet perfectly clear above the roaring sea and the call of the sailors.

“She used me.”

Wind whipped at his fur. He spun, wide-eyed, to see Lou had stood – antlers aglow and expression hard, hair dancing in the currents.

“She hurt me. I trusted her, I needed her, and she hurt me.”

The sea came rushing in – forcing Leshy closer, rising to a roaring lightshow painted alongside his walls. The melody, that song from before, it returned – rose in volume, deafening.

“For her own, personal fucking gain,” Lou whispered. “Hid me away like some dirty thing until she needed me, only at her disposal to be fucked and used and thrown away. She never valued me. I was just a thing.” They lifted their chin, eyes thinning. “A beast.”

Leshy took a staggering step closer – hesitating – Lou trailed his movements, stiff like a tree and trembling with fright, but standing their ground.

Leshy exhaled. Hard.

And hugged them.

The storm stilled.

“I,” said Leshy, “am so… sorry.”

Lou whimpered, returning the hug – his fur muffling their voice when they said, “you’re not her. I know you don’t mean… when you call me beast, I know that’s just your word for creature, that…” They sniffed. “I know that. It’s not that you call me beast, she never did that, it’s just… it’s that you say I’m yours. You don’t own me, but – but she did.”

“Never again,” Leshy said, resting his cheek carefully against one of their antlers. “Do you understand? I know I do not own you; you are not mine. You do not belong to me. But – you are my charge. Any beast that walks beneath my sky is under my protection. That is why I have said… why I have tried to – ”

“I know,” said Lou. “I – I get that. I know.” They sniffed again, shaking their head against him. “But I see the way you look at me, sometimes, y’know? Studying me. Like I’m just… like I’m a particularly interesting book you’re reading.”

Leshy snorted, brushing aside some of their hair to finger the base of their ear – they let out a soft exhale, pressing into his hand. “You are interesting. I find myself quite… intrigued.”

Lou huffed, shoving their face against him when he rubbed into their ear, slow, steady strokes most rabbits enjoyed. “Don’t lie to comfort me.”

“If you would look at me, my charge, I am sure you would see my sincerity.”

Lou shook their head. “Can’t.”

Leshy cocked his head, hand stilling against their ear. “Whyever not?”

“Nngh. I’m – ahh, I’m really, ah, uhm. Åh, faen heller.” Drawing a deep breath, Lou clutched at his fur and rushed, “it just sort of sunk in that I’m here with you and you’re actually caring for me and that’s really cool actually and I’m really flustered because you’re hugging me.”

Leshy waited.

Lou was the one who stepped back, arms wrapped about their chest and tail quick to hide what it could. They didn’t look at him. “No one… no one’s ever…” They drew a shaky breath. “Of course people have cared. Of course people have loved me, unconditionally, even, my girlfriend was the most wonderful person I’ve ever met. But ey were on the other side of the world, and – and – ” They rubbed at their eyes, knocking aside their glasses and smearing more grime across them. Leshy would have to clean them again, soon. Very, very quietly, Lou said, “I’ve always been… alone.”

“Never again,” said Leshy.

It was a grand promise. It was the two of them, only ever the two of them complex enough to be sentient, in this entire world. There was the Angler and the Prospector and the Trapper-Trader and the Mycologists and Grimora’s skeletons and P03’s workers and Magnificus’ students, and Rebecha and countless other NPCs scattered around the world.

But none of them were as sentient, as intricate and complex as the Scrybes.

As a human.

It was a grand promise, yes.

Leshy intended to keep it.

Chapter Text

Mid-fall Leshy finally got to see Lou comfortable naked; stretched long and bare, drinking sunlight in the grass with their head on his thigh as he weaved baskets by the pond. “Those marks of yours,” he said, glancing down at them when they shifted and turned. “They are quite interesting. Do all humans have them?”

“Huh?” Lou glanced down at the place he’d been pointing at. “Oh, my tattoos? Er, not really. It’s not really marks, they’re like… uhm. You take a sharp needle and use it to poke ink into the skin – basically a fancy scar.”

He looked at their marks – tattoos – with new eyes. Around their wrist, the left one, a band of flowers. On their right, a small symbol. Above their right elbow, the number twelve. “You inflicted bodily harm on yourself to obtain these modifications?”

“Mhm.” Lou raised their arms, pointing to the flowers. “This was my first one, I was seventeen. It’s a symbol for… well, me, and the path I took to get here.” They pointed at different parts of the tattoo as they continued, “strength. Unity. Systemhood. Childhood. Lavender, for spirituality. Forget-me-not’s, for me. Maturity.”

Leshy hummed, reaching down to trace the curve of an eye with an iris-moon. “Such a deep story with so few strokes. How impressive.”

“Tattoos tend to be like that,” said Lou, shooting him a small, upside-down smile. They had been more affectionate ever since their display a few weeks ago; not exactly clingy, but not shying from his touch, either. It was a new experience – one he welcomed. Closeness and warmth was such an easy thing to give – he had not understood why they rejected it.

Now, he couldn’t help but wonder what other parts of them they still kept hidden – what parts he had yet to uncover; yet to unravel and see. Had he thought he knew all of them? He couldn’t remember.

He wanted to see them unfold, piece by agonizing piece.

“It’s an artform,” Lou continued. “Lots of symbolism – and specific stories! – are shoved into small amounts of ink. Or large ones, depending on the style. Mine are rather simplistic, really. Some people have entire paintings on their bodies.”

Leshy hummed, moving his arm to press a fingertip against the soft flesh of their arm. “And this one?”

“Twelve o’clock,” said Lou, nodding solemnly. “One of my best friends has a matching one. See, we had this teacher we both hated…”

It was several hours later before Leshy sent Lou back to the cabin. The weather was getting bad, and Leshy still had some work to do – Lou, meanwhile, had not brought any clothes and had a predisposal to a runny nose, and was glad to take the trip back.

With basket in tow Leshy went about gathering herbs and roots and insects and some honey, whistling to himself as he ventured the forest he had been born in and knew better than he knew himself.

*

“Be careful there, I’m delicate –”

“No, shh, be quiet or he’ll hear.”

“This was your idea!”

Leshy watched, amused, as Lou tinkered with the Scrybe cards. He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow when Lou spun to give him a guilty look. They were such a horrible liar. “And what do you think you’re doing, messing with my cards?”

“They’re in my deck,” Lou defended.

“Yeah!” came P03’s voice, rather indignantly.

“It’s a new sigil,” said Grimora. “Do show him, my dear, I am sure he will like it.”

Lou sighed, holding up the cards. They had drawn on, with the ink quill Leshy kept for this purpose exactly, a new sigil on each one of them: a small blade, crossed out with an X. “It means they can’t be sacrificed for blood, just removed from the board and put aside until next round.”

“Like my hammer,” said Grimora, quite proudly.

“The hammer was my idea, actually,” Magnificus grumbled.

“You know it hurts them, right?” said Lou, glancing between Leshy and the cards in their hands. “When you sacrifice them. When they take damage. I know you did this to them to make a better game, a unified one, and I always liked your version better, but… but they don’t deserve that.”

He had noticed how they were always hesitant to sacrifice the Scrybe cards, wincing when they took damage, promising to be careful… but to go as far as to change the rules of the game to spare them, he had not expected.

And he couldn’t help a small twitch of his lips, leaning back to regard them with an amused look. “Next time, let us discuss it beforehand. That way I may make stamps that align with your vision.”

Lou’s cheeks darkened. “O – oh,” they said. “Yeah, uhm. Okay!”

*

Leshy was woken by a flash of light. Awake within seconds, and fully on guard, he swept up and crept towards the door – hands reaching for his camera. He pushed it open, listening for sounds as he adjusted to night vision.

A soft, inhaled breath.

Leshy snuck forward, peering out and over the table – and froze.

No intruders or dangers; just Lou on their back, feet flat against the floor and arching into their hand, shoved unceremonially between their thighs. They gasped and squirmed, pulsating with glow every other second.

Leshy’s mouth ran dry. Some part of him knew Lou would not have wanted him to see this – that it was private, was intimate – that they would be flustered and embarrassed and ashamed.

Some part of him knew that.

But he couldn’t look away.

As he watched, Lou murmured something – so quiet Leshy could not make out the words – and a rope of light appeared, sneaking up their feet, ankles – legs, knees, thighs – tying off with a bow. Lou moaned, digging their fingers into themselves, squirming against the restraints.

Leshy let out a soft breath, leaning against the wall as he shuffled closer.

Lou murmured again, something about a grip – a green, glowing hand appeared, sneaking up their chest, trailing a finger down their cheek. They followed it with their gaze, holding their breath.

What would it do, he wondered – touch their breasts, their belly?

The long fingers wrapped about their throat and squeezed.

Leshy and Lou gasped as one. Leshy muffled the sound, covering his mouth with his hand – but Lou opened their mouth wide and whined and keened, face darkening, eyes shining. He kept glancing between their hand dipping inside of them and their changing expressions, counting down the seconds – dead certain he could pinpoint the exact moment they would let go and climax.

He was jerked out of his count, not because he was wrong, but because – as he hit zero and Lou spasmed and tensed – they gasped, “Le – shy – ”

Leshy scrambled backwards and fumbled for the door, slipping back to his room and sinking to a heap on the floor. 

He was familiar with sex. He’d copulated with different beasts of the forest in earlier years, and before, when everything was still fine between them, the Scrybes had oftentimes sought each other out to satisfy sexual needs. Familiar with sex, yes, and the concept of stimulating oneself for the sake of pleasure, but this was…

Le – shy –

…new territory.

What was this – restriction, the asphyxiation – why had they done that? For what purpose? He didn’t understand, he wanted answers.

That hand – it had been green. Now that he thought about it… hadn’t it looked, just a bit, like his? And his name. His name, why had they –

Le – shy –

He didn’t understand.

He trailed a hand up his stomach, his chest – pressing ginger fingertips into the shallows of his throat. What would it feel like – what would it be like, pinning Lou to the ground, his hand around their throat, moaning, Leshy, please –

He wanted answers.

But right now, he didn’t trust himself to behave.

It would have to wait until later. Much later.

*

The weather had a tendency of staying clear and fine in Inscryption, warm all the way into winter – but now they had advanced into mid-fall, and so there was no surprise when the two inhabitants of Leshy’s cabin woke to massive downpour.

Leshy stood in the window looking out at the heavy rain, tail wagging behind him and muscles relaxed. It was such a nice sound, rain on his wooden roof – and between the fireplace and his thickening fur, the cold was easily averted as well.

“You enjoy the rain, huh?” said Lou, coming up to stand beside him. “That’s a good quality.”

Humming, Leshy nodded. “It’s rather relaxing – and quite necessary, as well, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure. Without darkness there is no light, and all that.”

Leshy chuckled. “Yes, yes, indeed.”

Lou exhaled softly, tilting their head so they could lean in against his side. “You’re warm,” they said, likely as a way of explanation – and he draped an arm across their shoulders, petting their ear with slow, deliberate motions. “Heh. You’re really good at that.”

Lowering his voice, Leshy rumbled, “years of experience.”

Chuckling, Lou glanced up at him. “You meet a lot of abnormally large rabbit satyrs?”

“Ah,” said Leshy, “is that what you call yourself?”

Lou wrinkled their nose. “What would you call me? Other than a beast.”

Leshy thought about it. The words amalgamation and hybrid came to mind, but something told him Lou would not much appreciate being called either. “Perhaps a rabbit satyr is best,” he conceded.

“Thought so,” said Lou, and, smiling, leaned back against his side.

After a calm morning Leshy unrolled the map and invited Lou to another round, which they readily accepted. They played a round or two, with Lou commenting on new locations and characters, before they approached the familiar campfire.

“You come upon a group of survivors,” Leshy announced. Lou nodded along, smiling giddily. It only made him squint at them – a smile like that usually meant they had something or other planned.

Sure enough, Lou shifted in their seat and said, “I wanna try something.” They giggled, clapping their hands together. “I dunno if it’ll work, but I wanna try. Okay, here goes, uh…” They cleared their throat. “My wolf steps forward from the rest of my deck – it is leaving its pack, but it goes willingly, to protect itself and its family. Its paws are heavy steps upon the ground…”

As they watched, the wolf card came alive – a miniature, glowing wolf appeared atop it, marching steadfast from the lineup of cards and over to the campfire.

“Yes!” Lou cried. “Okay, uh – the wolf settles before the fire, feeling it warm its fur. It will stay, will allow itself to be strengthened and accept the guidance shown it.”

“Yet,” Leshy interrupted, “the survivors eye it hungrily. The warmth of the fire has strengthened your wolf… but, surely, if you let it stay for just a little longer, it would become even stronger.”

Lou seamlessly continued the narration. “The wolf considers this offer. It gazes towards the fire, the opportunities, then back towards its pack.”

The wolf raised its head to look at Lou, who raised their eyebrows in surprise – but smiled softly, when the wolf shook its head.

“In the end, it rejects the offer of remaining and retreats to the safety of its pack.”

The glow faded back into the wolf card. Its stats had changed, but that remained the only difference despite the infusion of power.

“Fascinating,” Leshy murmured, dragging a hand over his beard. “How interesting… the meshing of two Scrybes… I had never considered that before.”

“Because you’re a moron!” called P03, glaring up at them both from his card. To Lou, he said, “send me next time!”

Lou raised an eyebrow down at their deck. “I thought you didn’t like the campfire.”

“Once is fine,” P03 said. “Once! He never kills you at the first try.”

“I, for one,” said Grimora, “would quite enjoy the campfire if I were in such a form.”

Magnificus hummed thoughtfully. “Yes,” he said, “it would please me greatly to discover the effects of this new Scrybe.”

Lou shifted, glancing between the cards and him. “I’m – but I’m not a Scrybe, though.”

Grimora, the closest card, gave Leshy a knowing look. “For now.”

*

“Isn’t it, like, late fall?”

“Indeed.”

“Why is it so warm?”

“There was a storm two days ago.”

“Yeah, right, a storm. But now I’m wearing a t-shirt outside and I’m fine. Aren’t we north-east on the map?”

“…why do you think I know these things?”

“…”

“Well?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”

“…excuse –”

*

“I want a tattoo.”

Leshy, who had been humming while Lou combed through the fur along his back, stopped short to glance over his shoulder. They were by the lake in the forest again, his hooves in the water and birdsong coming from the blood-red trees. It was a calm day – a nice, serene day – and likely their last before snowfall.

“A tattoo?”

“Yes. I want a constellation; the Big Dipper.” Lou shifted back from him, settling down on their haunches – lips pursed. “Could you do that? Do you think? You can, like, practice on hides – I’m pretty sure that’d work – leather, y’know, or just on my back, I don’t care how that looks, I just – ”

“Why do you want a tattoo of the Big Dipper?” Leshy asked, cocking his head. “What story do you wish to tell?”

Lou exhaled slowly, glancing aside. “It’s – it’s for my girlfriend. I used to have one, on the old body, here on the leg…” They rested their palm against their left calf. “But obviously it’s not here anymore. Back in my childhood home, the Big Dipper always hung right above our house in winter. It showed me the way home, and my girlfriend is – was… for the longest time… home. I – I want it for em.” They looked down at their leg – brown, furry, a rabbits – and back up at him, something soft in their eyes. “And… because I’ve found a – a new home.”

“A new home,” Leshy repeated slowly. He turned fully to face them, a tickle of some strange emotion rising in his chest. “Here? …with me?”

Lou flushed, glancing away – and nodded.

Leshy’s tail twitched eagerly. “I can do that,” he said. He had never tattooed anyone. The only ink he’d worked with was to create the text on his cards. “I can most certainly do that.”

Just at that moment, the clouds drifted on the sky – the sun peered out over the edge, beaming down upon them, just at the right angle to make Lou’s hair glow and their eyes shine when they smiled. “Really? You will?”

And that smile – that smile, so wide it showed all their teeth and their dimples and lit their eyes from within – it made that strange tickling emotion rise up and overtake him. He lunged, tackling Lou in a hug with a chittering sound of joy.

Lou yelped – tried to shove him off with a laugh, rolling over in the grass and wrestling him off to the side. “Is this how you say yes to all your friends?” they gasped out, in-between bouts of laughter and yelping squeals.

Leshy laughed, trying to get a hold of their wrists to keep them from yanking on his ears – failing, and paying for it by Lou throwing their whole weight at him and changing their positions. They overshot, though, and rolled an extra time – Leshy took his chance with both hands and pinned their arms beneath his, laughing loudly. “You have gained strength!” he said, remembering the weaker form that’d arrived all those weeks ago.

Lou wasn’t laughing anymore.

Their smile had disappeared back into their depths, their expression gone dull and muscles lax. Softly, they said, “don’t do this.”

Leshy’s smile slipped. “What? The tattoo?”

“No,” said Lou, smiling briefly before sighing. “Don’t pursue me. It’s not worth it, okay? I’m a lot of work. A lot.”

Frowning, Leshy let them go and sat back on his haunches. “I’m… afraid I do not understand.”

Lou huffed, shuffling backward and away from him. “Forget it,” they said, shoving up onto their feet. “I – I misread the situation. I, er… I’m gonna start on dinner.”

Leshy, puzzled beyond belief, watched them go.

*

“Are you ready?”

Lou held out their arm, letting it rest against Leshy’s thigh – they were laid on the floor, him bent over them with a needle in hand. “Yessir.”

They didn’t react when the needle pierced their skin. Leshy kept glancing between their expression – which did twist, every now and again, but mostly kept stoically calm – and the developing tattoo, making sure every little dot aligned as perfectly as he could get it.

“Still Lou?” he asked, brushing his fingers over the swollen skin once he finished – wiping up some blood and ink with a spare cloth.

“Mhm.” Lou sighed and stretched their arm out, smiling once they saw the seven stars, black against their pale skin. “Thank you so much, Leshy. It looks great.”

“My pleasure,” said Leshy, wiping off the needle. “I am grateful you would trust me enough to let me do this.”

Lou snorted, raising an eyebrow at him – still on the floor. “If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done so way before this.”

He nodded; that much was true. “Tell me once more, how are we to care for the wounds as they heal?”

“Ointment once or twice daily, to make sure it’s not too dry,” said Lou. “And try to keep it clean and out of harm’s way. I shouldn’t bathe a lot the next two weeks – y’know, to keep it from being submerged in water.”

“Understood,” said Leshy. It was the third time he had Lou go over it, and he remembered every little tidbit of information from the last two – he hadn’t expected to forget, but he could never be too sure when it came to things like these. “Then you are pleased?”

“Very much so!” Lou sat up, pushing their shoulders back to stretch. “I might pester you into making more later on… if you want to, of course. And hey, while we’re on the topic of ink – do you have something I can write on? There’s this poem I’ve been meaning to flesh out…”

*

“Leeeeshyyyyyy…” Lou had tugged a blanket over their head, draped awkwardly over their antlers, and was now giving him huge, pleading eyes. “D’chu wanna playyyyy?”

Leshy blinked, once. He thought hard, flipping through the mental catalogue of people who could also be inhabiting Lou’s body. “…Melissa?”

Lou – Melissa – nodded eagerly.

“I… suppose I do have the time for a casual game,” Leshy allowed. Melissa was a young girl, and had previously asked to play, as well – not as part of Lou’s ongoing campaign, but a much smaller-scale, child-friendlier version.

Melissa cheered, throwing her fists into the air. It wouldn’t be the last Leshy had to roll out the child-friendly game map.

*

“So cut it by the root, right?”

Leshy didn’t look up from his own harvest, trusting Lou had found the right plant. “Correct. But not including the root – ”

“Because it’s gotta grow again, yup, got it.”

The late afternoon air was brittle and cool, the thin crust of ice nestled in the grass creaking and groaning with every step they took – the conditions were perfect for harvesting more of the herbs effective for easing pain and fever, which they were running low on. Leshy himself rarely got sick, but Lou and him hadn’t been able to make clothes quick enough to battle the onslaught of cold air – even now, Lou just had two scarves and rabbit wrist-warmers, and their fingers were reddening with every passing minute.

Leshy folded the herbs into the worn wicker basket slung about his waist and moved on to another plant he’d been eyeing – one excellent for teamaking, and an aid for better sleep. As the days grew colder, not only had Lou begun to sniffle, but the bruises beneath their eyes darkened.

“We’re out of milk, too, by the way.”

Leshy chuckled, looking up at them over the bushes. “I was under the impression you didn’t like milk.”

“I don’t,” said Lou, returning his grin. “But I really like butter. And I need something to do when the snow comes…”

“Mmm, yes – you do not slow when the seasons do?”

“Nope.” Lou cut off another string of herbs. “Or, I mean – the old body didn’t. I don’t actually know about this one… I guess we’ll – ” They cut off, head whipping up and gaze focusing on something off in the distance.

Leshy frowned, looking in the same direction and noting nothing. “Everything alright?”

“I… I could’ve sworn I heard something,” Lou muttered. Their ears twitched – with great exertion they rose behind them to swivel in that direction. “Oh, yeah, that’s definitely something.” They staggered upright, stumbling briefly before scurrying over to him.

He rose, tucking aside his basket in favour of listening to the forest’s song. It had a tendency of flowing into itself in the background, a tapestry of sound that became the backdrop of his life. He didn’t have a habit of trying to pick out individual sounds – not anymore.

Now, though, the pained moaning of a bear was clear as day.

“I believe that is a grizzly,” he said. “It seems to be in pain.”

“Right,” said Lou, ears lowering and nose twitching. “Do we, er – what do we do ‘bout that?”

“Come along,” said Leshy, heading in the direction of the moans.

Indeed it was a grizzly bear – a sow, by the looks of it; she was sat on her haunches lapping sluggishly at a gash beneath her front paw.

“Shit, he’s huge,” Lou breathed. “I’ve never seen a bear up-close before…”

“This seems to be a sow,” Leshy said, approaching slowly. The sow looked up from her wound with a warning growl, trying to shuffle back from them – revealing a huge thorn beneath one of her hind paws. “Poor thing. Do you see the thorn in her hind? We will have to remove it. The gash will heal on its own time, but such thorns have a tendency of gathering infections.”

“Okay,” said Lou tensely, chewing on their lip and eyeing the sow uncertainly. “Okay… okay. Wh – whaddo we do?”

He had never been good at communicating with bears – canines and bovines were his expertise, but he would still have a better shot at calming the frightened sow than Lou. “I will attempt to placate her,” he said. “You must remove the thorn, if you can.”

Lou’s jaw was hard-set and their eyes wide, but they nodded stiffly. “I – I’ll try. You’re sure she won’t hurt me?”

“…no,” Leshy admitted. Lou shut their eyes. “But I am sure I will protect you.”

“Yeah, okay,” said Lou. “Good enough. Be careful, yeah?”

“And you as well.”

He approached slowly, gesturing calmly as he made comforting sounds. The sow’s gaze was fastened solidly on him, letting him come close enough to touch. Still uttering nonsense animalistic sounds, Leshy began stroking her coarse fur. “That’s it,” he murmured. “That’s a good girl.” A flash of colour signalled Lou had gotten into position. The sow had relaxed somewhat, muscles less tense and eyes not as fearfully wide. Leshy steeled himself, muttering, “there we go, there, yes, just think of the wonderful sleep you will have this winter…”

A harsh exhale from Lou was deafened by a roar from the sow – which was, in turn, disturbed by Leshy’s yelp of pain when her claws dug into his back.

Her snuffling cries disappeared ungracefully into the forest; Leshy sunk to his knees in the frozen grass, gasping sharply for air as the pain rolled in over him, cold and harsh. It throbbed and ached, and the shock of it all made his vision flicker.

“Leshy!” Lou cried – they appeared by his side, hands pressing down on the wounds on his back. “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I’m so sorry, shit – I gotta – gotta – ” They fumbled around, cursing all the while – there was the sound of a zipper, then something solid against the gashes on his back. He hissed, arching away from it – but Lou shoved a hand against his chest, pleading into his ear, so close, “stay still, Leshy, please, I have to put pressure on – why are you so big, this is so unfair!” A bit more shuffling – Lou reached around his back, tying their scarf in place around him with quivering hands.

When Leshy blinked, he realized they were stood naked before him – splattered in blood and trembling from head to toe. “Y – you – ”

“C’mon,” said Lou, effectively cutting him off when they pushed up against him. “Get up, get up, Leshy, we need to get you to the cabin – we – we – ” They groaned, pressing their face against his side even as he took a staggering step in the direction of home. “FFfffuck.”

A few stumbling steps went by, then Lou exhaled hard and straightened their back, saying, “alright. To the cabin, come on.”

Leshy let them take the lead, leaning half-heartedly against them. “Who – ?”

“Melchior, now come on and hurry up! If you bleed out Lou would never forgive me.” A pause. “And Wang is also here. Not that it matters, you sulking bag of flesh.”

They left a bloody trail on their way back to the cabin. Melchior helped Leshy down into his bedding and made quick work of bustling around the cabin – it wasn’t long before he’d had the wounds cleaned and inspected, and then – undoubtedly as the initial spike of panic faded – Lou took over.

“They don’t look too deep,” said Lou, “so I don’t think I’ll have to stitch them up – hopefully – but I need bandages and – and ointment.”

Leshy groaned into his wolf pelt. “Bottom cabinet on the left,” he mumbled. “It would be the jar with the green covering.”

“Right,” said Lou, jumping to their feet. They returned within seconds, smearing ointment over his ripped back and fumbling with the bandages before working it around his torso. “How – how are you feeling? I’m no doctor, I’m sorry I can’t do any more – ”

“You do more than I would be able to,” Leshy dismissed. “I am tougher than most beasts, my dear doctor. I will be fine.” He cracked a pained smile. “I would have been fine without your assistance as well – but it is of… great help.”

Lou chewed on their fingers. “If – if you say so. Just, please, keep to the bed for a few days… okay?”

“I can do that,” Leshy said. “You look cold. What happened to your clothes?”

“Er.” Lou flushed, looking hastily away. “Well, uhm, they’re kinda… soaked in, uh.” They smacked their lips. “Blood. Yup. I’ll have to clean them, but don’t worry about that. I’ll figure it out.”

“Very well. I – I assume you want me to rest, now.” Not that he was against it – he was sapped of strength. “A welcome respite.”

Lou nodded, prodding gently at his shoulders to get him to lay back down. “You do that. I’ll – I’ll wash my clothes. And…” They looked down at themselves with a grimace. “I’ll… try to get the blood out of my fur.”

*

Lou was an excellent caretaker. They were quick to his side with water and food and tea, changing his bandages frequently and checking in several times a day. After the first night, when he mentioned it had been somewhat cold, Lou had raised their chin and dropped all their pelts and blankets into his lap.

He’d tried to reject the offer, but in the end he had to offer them a spot beside him in the bedding if he wanted them to stay cozy overnight. That was almost worse for them, it seemed, but the third day he woke to them nestled in against his chest with a content sigh – and that was the end of any complaints about chills.

As he had proclaimed, he healed fast. Faster than Lou expected – the bandages were off within a week, and when the last, stubborn warmth finally let go and the snow fell, he was out to make snowballs and lanterns. They finished more clothes for Lou – a cloak and tunic and proper gloves, as well as some boots and another scarf – and it let them delve out into the winter with more enthusiasm than before.

Leshy was hit by the usual laziness that winter brought with it – fur thickening, sleeping longer and eating less. He did never fully hibernate, though Lou’s levels of energy were sometimes baffling. It wasn’t until now he’d realized how much they truly wanted to busy themselves, as, within only two weeks of snow they’d put together a semi-functioning string instrument. “I’m genuinely a bit surprised,” they said, after proudly displaying it to him after a round of cards. “I’ve never been good at stuff like this.”

“…surely, you are joking,” Leshy said, raising an eyebrow. “You are saying you have never been at creation?”

“Er…” Lou looked down at the instrument. “No, just, like – the physical part of it. Like – using my hands for stuff. Urgh, I don’t know.”

Leshy plucked the instrument from their shaking hands, inspecting it critically. Crude, yes, and not exactly well made – but it worked, and there was certainly an artistic touch to it with the colours used and the patterns in the wood. Most importantly, Lou had no instructions or teachings in this craft. They had made it all on their own.

“This is well made,” he concluded, handing the instrument back. “Well done. I’m impressed.”

Lou fumbled and stuttered for words, but Leshy brushed them off and went back to discussing the new campaign they would be embarking on – and, by the way, what were they making for dinner and did they need him to hunt for something in particular?

Within three weeks his wounds were all but healed and he’d had two whole conversations with Melchior that didn’t end in insults from either side – yet, Lou was struggling to remove all the bloodstains from their fur. “I don’t get it,” they grumbled, glaring down at their feet while they walked through the snow. “I’ve picked and pulled and scrubbed as much as I can – I can’t exactly soak it right now, or I might just freeze to death. But it just won’t come off!”

“Does grooming it not help?” asked Leshy, holding aside a branch to let Lou duck beneath. He stepped after them into the clearing by the pond – now frozen over, but still a common place for visits when they wished to enjoy nice weather and laze about for a while. Not to mention, Lou wanted to try pine tea, and there were plenty of pines in the area.

They had gathered quite the amount on the way here, but neither of them were the sort to turn down an opportunity to rest outdoors – even if Lou never did nap much, they enjoyed the serenity of it.

“Grooming it?” Lou repeated, pulling out a wolf throw-quilt from their backpack and draping it across the snow before settling atop. “Leshy, I’m stiff as a tree. I can’t groom anything but my toes at best. Not that my tongue’s equipped for it, either.” They stuck out their tongue, crossing their eyes in a failed attempt at looking at it themselves.

“You do have a rather… small… tongue,” Leshy said, chuckling to himself as he settled beside them. The snow didn’t bother him nearly as much as it bothered them, but he still preferred a wolf pelt than a handful of ice up his ass. “I could always do it for you, if it bothers you so.”

Lou twitched. “You what now?”

Leshy leaned forward to get a proper look at their expression. Was this some sort of cultural breach he hadn’t encountered yet? They looked quite surprised. “I could groom your fur for you,” he said. “My tongue is meant for grooming fur rougher than yours, I am sure it would be quite effective.”

Lou, red in the face, pulled their knees up to their chest and stammered, “I – I don’t wanna impose.”

“You are not – ”

“I – I mean, it’s kinda weird, isn’t it, that – well – you’ll just be, like, licking my feet, right?” Lou babbled, looking off to the side as their face gradually darkened.

Leshy sat back to give them space. “I suppose… I apologize, I didn’t intend to make you flustered. It was an attempt at assistance.”

“Right. Right, no, sorry, I – I keep forgetting that things are… different.” Lou exhaled slowly, pulling a hand through their hair. “Okay, yeah, you know what, that’s – that’s fine, sure. I’m so tired of this blood anyway, it’s this or chopping it off.”

“Your fur does not deserve being chopped off,” Leshy exclaimed, shuffling forward to put his hands on Lou’s knees. “No, I will not have that happen if I can help it. Sit still, and I will begin.”

He skipped Lou’s feet and went straight to work on their calves – with how much they walked around in snow and on his wooden floors, all blood would be worn off by now. With broad, slow strokes he made quick work of grooming their calves – though he had to go over some patches twice. He continued on to their knees, at which point he nudged their feet apart and knelt between them for better access.

Lou, he noticed, was pointedly staring at a spot somewhere above his head.

When he began working on their thighs, their breath quickened. They shifted beneath him as he worked his way upward – he placed a hand against their hip for better balance as he moved onto their inner thighs –

and that’s when the scent hit him.

He had a good nose, and this scent in particular was one he was quite familiar with across several species: arousal, and the fluids that would make copulation easier.

Only a second was spent hesitating before Leshy continued grooming them – though, now with a different goal in mind. He teased closer with each lap of his tongue, skimmed just past the spot of darkening fur between their legs and listened to their breath hitch, listened to their heart beat so loudly he could hear it.

Once he could conclude their fur was fully and wholly clean, he placed a hand on each hip and hesitated – breath fanning across that spot of dark fur, and oh, how tempting it was to nuzzle against that spot and breathe in their scent, lap at their heat –

But this was no beast of the forest who cared not for social norms; this was no beast of the forest who would fight to the last and forget the damage of eagerness within days.

Leshy lifted his head and met Lou’s gaze – Lou’s dark gaze, their flushed cheeks, their fluttering chest. They were beautiful, he realized – it hit him abruptly, the same way it always surprised him how beautiful nature could be, how cruel and kind among each other. With their waves of hair that never seemed to grow past their shoulders, framed by the rabbit-trimmed cloak that warmed them – those downy, brown ears and starry-night antlers –

He had thought them attractive, yes, in the way that he would not mind copulating with them – had thought them fine, yes, and pretty, yes – but never, before now, beautiful.

He swallowed the words, didn’t want to scare them away, and rumbled, “do you want me to stop?”

Lou blinked rapidly. Their pupils shrunk, expression clearing – voice cracking when they whispered, “I don’t know.”

Not good enough. Leshy quirked a smile. “Do you want me to continue?”

Lou’s tongue darted out to wet their lips. They inhaled shakily. “What do I have to do in return?”

Leshy pressed a quick kiss to the inside of their thigh. “Not a single thing, my beast. I only want to help you.”

Their throat worked as they swallowed thickly. “Do you want to…?”

“Yes.”

Tilting their head back – ears slipped over their shoulders – Lou exhaled hard. “Yes. Okay. Okay. You can…” They made a soft sound and didn’t look at him. “You can continue.”

Lou was quiet when he parted their wet fur and nuzzled their warm slit; was quiet when he dragged his tongue from top to bottom in one broad, slow stroke; was quiet when he focused on their nub and tasted their heat.

But they were not still. They writhed beneath him, and their breathing quickened and hitched and waxed and waned – a hand clutched at Leshy’s fur when he dug his tongue inside of them, followed by a soft whisper of, “oh, fuck.”

And that’s when they broke, unleashing a whispered constant of keens and “fuck, fuck, shit, yes, hah – ”

He counted the seconds, noting their tells, and – right before they would climax – slowed.

Lou whined loudly, hips bucking up against him, but they did not complain.

They were quicker to react this time, no calm before the storm, and Leshy had to slow earlier.

“Fuck,” Lou whispered, humping air, “fuck, Leshy – ” They whined, quite audibly, and drew a shuddering breath. When Leshy glanced up at them, their eyes were wet. “Please.”

Leshy licked his lips, savouring their salt, and said, “please, what?”

Lou groaned, throwing their head back. “Don’t make me say it…”

“You could be asking for a dozen different things,” said Leshy, letting humour creep into his voice. “Your wish is my command – but I cannot read your mind.”

“Please,” Lou whispered. They were covering their eyes now, breathing shallowly. “Please let me cum.”

Leshy bent his head once more and got to work – parting them, easing them open, thumb rubbing slow circles against their nub as he delved deeper, lapping at their insides –

Lou whimpered, bucking against him – hands grabbing onto his hair, clutching so hard it hurt; their back arched, and they tensed –

They climaxed with a sob.

He languidly lapped up their juices, going back to grooming their fur just to ensure the least amount of spills. The words, you have quite the unique taste died on his tongue when he lifted his head and saw the state of his charge.

Lou was crying.

Worry clutched his guts. He sat up fully, eyes widening. “Is everything alright?”

Lou didn’t answer beyond a choked sniffle – but they did, thankfully, not shy away. Indeed, they reached for him! Leshy bent forward and gathered them in his arms, letting them latch onto him and bury their face in his fur. Their shoulders shook with sobs, and, muffled, their voice came, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry, sorry, I – I – I didn’t mean to – I’m sorry…”

“No, no, no,” said Leshy, stroking their hair and back, sitting back on his haunches and rather frantically trying to comfort. What had he done wrong? Where had things gone off the rails? “What are you apologizing for? You have done nothing wrong – did I hurt you?”

Lou shook their head. “I – I just – I’m just – a lot –”

Leshy rocked them gently, shushing absentmindedly as he rose and packed their pelts one-handed. “I am taking you home,” he said, “and I will make you a cup of tea, so you can calm down. You need not talk to me about this, but I am open to listen if you choose to do so.”

“Thank you,” Lou whispered. They didn’t lift their face from his shoulder.

Back at the cabin he lowered them onto the floor and went to boil water over the embers, pouring it over calming herbs and adding a spoonful of honey to adhere to Lou’s sweet tooth. He pressed it into their shaking hands and watched them, cautiously, as they sniffled and wiped their tears and took a sip.

“Sorry,” they said, once they’d calmed and tucked their hands securely around the wooden cup. “It – that happens sometimes. I didn’t – I…” They hesitated, glancing down into the dark liquid. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Leshy pulled back, inclining his head. He wouldn’t push.

He made dinner that night, preparing the mushroom soup Lou always so enjoyed. The sound of Lou tuning their instrument drifted into the kitchenette – their voice, thick with tears, humming to themselves, “se, de, e, eff, ge, a, hå, se…”

When he looked in on them after finishing dinner, they had an array of stars floating about their head – he recognized the Big Dipper, and Orion, but the rest were lost on him. Their usually golden glow had now turned blue, and it reflected in their eyes and tear-wet cheeks.

They ate in silence, except for Lou’s meek, “this is good.”

Afterwards, when the night had settled, Lou asked, “is it okay if I – if I stay out here, tonight? I… I don’t want to offend, but…”

“Of course,” said Leshy, though his chest felt hollow and his heart raw. “Yes, of course.”

He stole a card from their deck when they weren’t looking, hiding it away while he helped them move some pelts and a blanket back into the main room of the cabin. It would be cold, and they would sleep poorly, but they were aware of that when they made their choice.

They stood awkwardly, for a long moment, something unsaid hanging heavy in the air between them.

“Goodnight,” said Leshy eventually. “Sleep well.”

“Yeah,” said Lou, looking anywhere but him. “You, too.”

Back in his room, Leshy fished out Grimora’s card. “Do you know what I did wrong?”

Grimora raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Quite, though you might want to tell me what happened, first.”

So Leshy explained.

“Sounds like they might be overwhelmed, the poor dear,” said Grimora, nodding wisely. “Just give them some time. It will all be alright, you will see.”

Leshy shook his head, curling up on his side on the bedding and feeling his scars pulling awkwardly at skin and fur. He managed a weak chuckle. “To think I would see the day the Scrybe of the Dead attempted to comfort me,” he muttered, ears drooping. “After all I have done…”

Grimora glanced aside, eyebrows pulling together. “Lou is right,” she said, after a long silence. “I would have deleted the game, if I could. Existence the way we have … there is no peace in that. I do not think you did the right thing, Leshy, dear, but I cannot help but share Lou’s impression that this is the better option.”

Leshy rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark of his ceiling. In the next room over, Lou was crying quietly. “Do you hate me?”

Grimora snorted. “Hate you? No, of course not. Dislike you? Yes, perhaps. But I can concede you have made a good choice, for once in your life.”

“And Magnificus? P03?”

“No, my dear Leshy, they do not hate you. Personally, I have grown to enjoy the state of things. Perhaps we can now grow into a new reality…  a new game, creating Scrybes anew. Perhaps that is why Lou has come here, to make us see… to make us understand?”

Leshy chuckled dryly. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it is simply one of life’s many flukes.”

“Perhaps,” Grimora allowed. “Sleep, now, Leshy. I sense you need it.”

“You sense nothing. You are a card.”

She was right, though – and Leshy did drift off, not too long after Lou’s crying abated.

Sometime after midnight, when the night had become total and dark, he was stirred from his rest by his door creaking open. He squinted up at the light from the cabin, blinking at the sight of Lou peering in through the doorway.

Leshy lifted the side of the blanket, shuffling back to give them space, and opened his arms.

Lou scurried across the room, diving beneath the covers and into the warmth of his chest, whispering, “thank you.”

Distantly, Leshy thought he might have heard Grimora’s muffled voice say, “told you so.”

Chapter Text

The worst of winter passed peacefully – Lou finished a set of runes and a flute and filled their third leatherbound notebook with writings. They would sit out in the forest enjoying the silence as they worked on stories, or they tinkered on songs while brushing Leshy’s fur, or they taught him the ins and outs of cooking (they said they weren’t very good at it, but they said that about a lot of things).

Leshy, for his part, slept as much as he always did (except for when he planned campaigns).

Things were calm, for the most part.

They didn’t talk about that day by the pond.

*

Lou was muttering to themselves. It was a common occurrence, and so Leshy was not at all surprised – it was more surprising that they were actively doing so when he was dozing off beside them on the cabin floor. His ear flicked their way, though he remained still.

“Mhm, yeah, I know…”

The achingly familiar sound of paper against paper: they were shuffling cards.

“You ought to talk to him.”

Leshy opened his eyes. That had been Magnificus –

He almost gave up the pretense of sleep at the sight before him. A glowing, full-scale version of Magnificus was sat, cross-legged, opposite of Lou on the floor. If Leshy squinted, he could make out the Stunted Wolf card beneath him.

On the flooring between them was a lineup of ordinary playing cards.

“No,” said Lou, and Leshy shut his eyes again. “He already does so much for me, he doesn’t deserve…” They huffed. More shuffling of cards. “Do you have a four?”

“Go fish. You know he cares for you. He would not like knowing you were in pain.”

Lou snorted. “Listen, I’ve learned that you should never rely on one given person to be your support through thick and thin. It doesn’t work out.”

“Any queens?”

“Fuck you.”

“Thanking you kindly. Either way, talking about things tends to make them easier to bear…”

“Yeah, and I’m talking to you now, aren’t I? It’s not even anything big, I just miss the sea. I always do, I’ve never been able to do anything about it. Aha! I want my queens back, you fuck.”

“Oh, blast it. Very well…” More shuffling. Lou hummed triumphantly. “You are in a new place now. Leshy is a good creature, he would do what he can to ease your longing.”

Lou sighed. They shifted backward, leaning up against his side. He fought not to twitch when they brushed a hand through his fur. “Exactly. He should take more care of himself, I don’t… I like it, that he focuses on me, of course, but it makes me so guilty.”

“I understand,” said Magnificus. “Do you have any aces?”

“Nah. Go fish.”

“Blast…”

The topics drifted to safer things, and Leshy fell back into a dozed sleep – though, he did not let go of the plans beginning to stir deep in his mind.

*

“I apologize for asking this of you,” said Leshy, a few days later after finalizing his plans, “but I am in need of travelling this spring.”

Lou looked up from their attempted knitting. “Travelling? Where? When? Why?”

“There is a type of ink the squids down South produce that serves itself very well to the creation of cards,” Leshy said. Lou visibly brightened. “So I will have to travel to the Western shore – it is a few days’ trip one way, so I do understand if you would prefer to remain here – ”

“I wanna go,” said Lou. Their spine had gone straight as a rod. “I – I want to try, at least, even if it might be tough.”

Leshy nodded, managing a smile. “I will wake the Prospector from his slumber and borrow his hound; she is strong enough to drag a sled.”

Lou sighed, relaxing backward into their pillows. “Thank you. That’s really nice. You think she can carry me?”

“She can carry me,” said Leshy. “I would not worry.”

Lou finished a row of their knitting, hastily shoving it aside. Their tail began to wag. “What should I pack?”

*

It was love at first sight between Lou and Bella, the Prospector’s huge border collie mix. Leshy had to pull Bella off Lou after only a few minutes when they, between gasping laughs, announced they couldn’t breathe. “So lovely, lovely, lovely,” they chanted, burying their face in the scruff of her neck and scratching vigorously around her ears. “What a sweetheart.”

“I take it she passes the test?” Leshy asked, smiling while packing the last of his items.

“Uhuh!”

“Have you finished packing? Are you ready to go?”

Lou threw open the cabin door and glanced around – then came running back with an eager smile. “Sure thing!”

“Excellent,” said Leshy. “Then we are off!”

*

 “I literally just realized,” said Lou, turning wide eyes on him. “Where are we going to sleep?”

“There is a cabin,” Leshy said, nodding down at them even as he plucked needles from the pines they passed. “Only one room, and rather small, but it should do for a few days.”

“Oh, in that case.” They hopped over a fallen log, stumbling a bit on the downfall before regaining their balance. “Is there a kitchen or will we be doing all cooking over open fire?”

Leshy chuckled. “There is an outside area for cooking – do not worry, we will figure it out.”

“I’m not worried,” Lou hurried to say. “Like, at all. Do you think it’ll be warm? The water? Do the seasons turn as abruptly from winter to spring as the other way around? Maybe it’ll become spring while we’re up there, that would be nice.”

“I do not know,” Leshy said, watching them with a lazy smile as they began peeling the bark off a random twig with their teeth. “It could very well be.”

“Cool!”

He hadn’t seen them this lively since fall. Had he been suffocating them in the cabin, with no options of new things, no offerings of change?

Why did he never notice when they began to deteriorate?

*

“Leshy? Could we take a break soon?”

“Of course,” said Leshy. “Or would you prefer the sled?”

Lou stroked a hand down Bella’s back. “Is that okay, girl?”

Leshy couldn’t help but smile. “Dogs are strong, loyal pets. She would carry you to the ends of the world, if you asked her to.”

“Hmm.” Lou cocked their head up at him, narrowing one eye teasingly. “You sure you’re talking about Bella? And not yourself?”

He had, indeed, been talking of Bella – but now that they said it, he had to consider the thought. Carry Lou to the ends of the world?

In-between fall and spring something had happened. Leshy had changed, he realized now – had stared into something quite like death and yet entirely different, and found it staring back in equal intrigue.

When Lou had arrived, he had thought of them as a nuisance, someone he had to get used to, someone he could always get rid of if he wanted.

The thought of life in the cabin, alone, with only the distraught Scrybe cards as company.

When had his world changed so completely? Like everything with Lou it must have snuck up on him – must have blossomed somewhere out of his view, and now he turned to look at it, surprised at the life where before there had only been dirt.

“I would carry you as well,” Leshy said, at last. “As far as you wish. As long as my feet can hold me.”

Lou’s teasing expression winked out in favour of a soft smile. “That’s really sweet of you. Good thing you don’t have to,” they said, clambering onto the sled and wrapping a deer pelt about themselves. “Let me know if Bella’s tired, yeah?”

“Of course,” said Leshy softly, signaling for Bella to continue onward. He didn’t bother explaining to Lou that no, he did not mean now – he meant now, and tomorrow, and the day after that, after that, after that – metaphorically, literally, cosmically.

He would carry them as far as he could – whether they liked it or not.

*

“I usually sleep in sleeping bags when I sleep outside,” Lou said when they went to bed that night. “Just some hides is… new.”

Leshy rolled over onto his side. “You may share a pelt with me,” he said, holding up an arm in invitation. “So that it is not as new.”

Laughing, Lou grabbed their pelts and scrambled over, squirming about until they could rest their head in the crook of his elbow with a content hum. “This is nice, though. Can we do this more often? When summer comes? The stars are so beautiful…”

“Just wait until you see them by the sea,” Leshy muttered. “They are even better.”

Lou hummed, their eyes falling shut. “I can imagine.”

*

The time during the day was spent either in companiable silence, or an alliteration of songs and music from Lou and Leshy both – the former teaching him songs from their world, and the latter teaching them birdcalls and lullabies. Sometimes, in the sled, Lou would bring out their instrument and string along a song or two – self made – and other times, they would read aloud poems or stories to make time go faster.

Leshy adored listening to them read. They had such a captivating, lovely voice – and it did nothing but help when it activated their powers and painted pictures from the poetry or stories alongside them when they walked.

He brewed tea for them in the evenings – to ease their pain and their sleep – and they cooked oatmeal in the mornings, served in thick wooden bowls they hadn’t quite got the hang of making yet, and Bella was fed what leftovers they had along with the odd slab of meat Leshy hunted on their path.

The third evening – their last, Leshy told them eagerly, they were bound to reach the shore the following day – Lou rolled their shoulders and bent their back in strange shapes with a pained groan. “God, it feels like someone’s shoved a log in here…”

“If you believe it would help, I would gladly give you a massage,” said Leshy, without pausing unrolling their pelts.

Lou whipped to face him, blurting, “oh my God, I love you. Would you? Please?”

“I would not have offered if not,” said Leshy, brushing his hands together and raising his eyebrows at them. “I take it as a yes? Then please, lie down.”

He straddled the back of Lou’s thighs and set to work on their back. Now, he was no massage expert, but when caring for the beasts of the forest this was one method that never failed to calm them. Though he wasn’t very familiar with the human physique (or should he say, the rabbit satyr physique?) the main muscles were the same… and it wasn’t long before Lou had turned to mush beneath him.

“I am not too hard, am I? Too soft?”

Lou grunted. “No, not at all. You’re perfect. Mmm.”

There was a tingle of something familiar – a stirring of something within him he only barely recognized. But, no, it was too early – not yet, he told himself, not at all yet, and certainly not like this.

He muttered, “I am glad,” and continued working on Lou’s muscles.

They fell asleep after a while, though Leshy did not stop before he was satisfied. Only then did he gingerly roll off them and prepare the campsite for night; draping a blanket over Lou and a pelt over them both. He went to sleep with an arm over their bare side and their scent in his nose, and quite agreed with their assessment: this was nice.

*

Seagull cries and salty air announced their arrival to the shore. Lou ran ahead to scout while Leshy unpacked their things into the wiry cabin at the line where sand met grass.

After a while, Leshy went in search of his charge - finding them standing at the water’s edge, hair flirting with the wind and cheeks rosy. “Wow,” they said. “It’s so pretty.”

Humming, Leshy eyed the horizon with the eye of a fisherman - some jutting stones here and there, grasping into the water, would prove efficient places for squid fishing… just like previous years. And, if that failed, the old dock built into the slowly-rising hills some ways off would be adequate replacement.

“Have you not seen the sea before?” he asked, placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Oh, I have - my dad, that is, the body’s dad - he used to -”

“Right,” Leshy said, “yes, the lighthouse, I remember.”

“Mhm.” Lou leaned in against his side, drawing a deep breath. “And I used to be a sailor. In a past life, I mean. Several of them.” They chuckled. “I was a really dramatic pirate once. That was fun. Well, until I died, anyway… I was very depressed.”

“Was?” Leshy teased.

Lou pushed him away from themselves with a laugh. “You twat! Yes, was. I’m much better now, thanks.”

Leshy pulled them back into his side with a hum, wrapping his arms around their shoulders to rest his torso against their back. “I am glad.”

Sighing, Lou let their head fall back to rest against his chest - their hands coming up to curl around his arms. “I don’t think I’ll ever be at rest,” they muttered. The waves crashing lovingly against the shore nearly deafened the sound of their voice. “I think there’s always going to be something I yearn for.”

Leshy didn’t answer. There was nothing he could think of that could ease that pain, beyond holding them tighter.

*

Lou watched eagerly as Leshy fastened the lure to his fishing rod and began the fishing process - their eyes tracked every movement he made, muttering to themselves, “around the hook, under there…”

After a good twenty minutes of serenity - broken only by the occasional jerking of the rod to simulate movement of a prawn - he hauled in the first squid.

“Ooooh,” Lou sounded, tittering closer to get a better look. “It’s much smaller than I expected.”

“We need to catch at least ten of these, yes,” said Leshy, wrangling the squid off the hook and making quick work of killing the poor thing. “See here, I will show you how to clean it and harvest the ink…”

Lou watched once again, intently this time, as Leshy removed the head and cut the tentacles, then the beak - with great precision removing the cartilage and letting Lou bend and sniff at it - removing the skin membrane, and at last, locating the ink sack and emptying it into a glass bottle.

“That’s not nearly as difficult as I thought,” said Lou, poking at the innards of the squid. “I think I can do that.”

They caught two more squids that day, and Lou cleaned both quite well. Their smaller hands were better equipped for the job, even though they spilled some ink due to the shaking. “How do we prepare the meat?” they asked, carrying the baskets with said meat over their arm as they went on their way back to the cabin. “Do you think we can glaze it in honey? Would that taste nice?”

“I have never tried,” Leshy admitted. “Perhaps we can do that tonight.”

“What veggies do we have? Carrots? Bell peppers? I’m thinking maybe - oh! We could skewer them, spice them up with some of that paprika you have - or maybe… if we bake some bread… oh, Leshy, what if we stuff them?”

Leshy couldn’t help but laugh. “No need to worry - we will catch more than enough for you to try out everything you wish during our stay.”

Lou bounced a bit on their feet, slipping in the sand for a moment before beaming up at him. “Epic!”

The sky had begun to darken by the time Leshy fired up the stone furnace outside the cabin walls, and when Lou had improvised a salad, skewered squid and toasted bread, the stars were peeking out.

“Okay, okay, okay,” said Lou, muffled around a mouthful of squid as they nodded, “this is good, actually. Right? I didn’t, like, fuck up severely or something?”

Compared to Leshy’s usual squid - either eaten raw or burnt to a crisp when he tried to prepare it himself - it was absolutely wonderful, and he told them as much.

*

They slept stacked on top of one another in the cabin. The ocean winds tore through the walls and teased at exposed skin, so they both bundled themselves up and tucked in close - and Leshy lay listening to Lou’s breath ease and even, lay listening to their heartbeat slow, and wondered what had lulled them to sleep - his presence, or the sea?

*

Lou wasn’t there when he woke the following day. The air was cool and crisp but quickly warming, and he rolled out of bed with a crackle of joints popping. Leshy had dropped their things on shelves and in cabinets around the cabin, and Lou had left their sleeping pelts hanging over the table and chairs over by the fractured window.

On a peg by the door hung an old, woollen shawl.

Leshy couldn’t bear to look at it, making for the door – thinking better of it just a second later, darting back inside to yank it off the peg and bring it with him.

Lou was swimming in the sunrise.

A hollowness ached deep within him at the sight of their hair floating in the water around them, antlers as dark as the sea. He approached the waterline and sat down, content to watch them enjoy themselves.

They braved the admittingly calm waves, further and further out before they turned. Even so far away he could make out their smile at seeing him – they threw a hand into the air and waved eagerly before picking up their pace. “Hey!” they said, grinning widely when they came close enough to converse. They didn’t surface, choosing to rest against the ground with water lapping at their shoulders and face. “Didn’t know you were up.”

Leshy smiled, cocking his head at them. “And I did not know you could swim.”

Lou chuckled – paused to let a shiver run through them and chatter their teeth – and said, “I’m not very good at it, but I wouldn’t die immediately if my ship capsized.”

Sighing, Leshy crossed a leg over his knee and leaned forward to give them an exasperated look. “You keep saying that.”

Frowning, Lou said, “saying what?”

“That you are not good at something you are very clearly good at.” He shook his head. “You are good at cooking, and creating, and swimming – and possibly a hundred other things you have not told me you are insecure about.”

A seagull cried out overhead. Leshy glanced at it briefly, squinting against the rising sun – the birds were waking, then.

When he looked back, Lou sighed and glanced aside. “It’s – this is a difficult topic, Leshy.” They chuckled lightly. “You have no idea how much willpower it’s taking me to not start arguing with you. I guess it’s my past, huh?”

“My list of enemies grows longer every day,” Leshy said, nodding his head. “I understand it to be difficult, changing the path you have gone on for so long – but could you not at least consider treading a new one?”

Lou laughed. “You make it more tempting with every day, you big lump.”

Leshy shook his head and leaned back, pulling forth the shawl and draping it over his lap. “Are you not cold? Come, join me and we can make breakfast.”

“Why don’t you join me?” said Lou. “I’m not hungry yet, and I know you’re not, either.”

Leshy eyed the waters. “No, thank you, I am… quite content.”

Lou squinted and cocked their head, lazily doing a few strokes to keep afloat when a wave tempted to drag them out into the current. “Are you afraid of the sea? I’ve seen you wade in the lake at home…”

“I am not afraid,” Leshy defended. “The lake is shallow enough I can stand in it, and the ocean has no such guarantees. It is simply…” He gestured vaguely. “It is a safety precaution.”

Blinking slowly, Lou rose from the waters to kneel in the sand. “You can’t swim.”

Leshy huffed. “No. I cannot.”

“I can show you, if you want! I’ve never taught anyone how to swim, but it’s a nice skill to have and the current isn’t strong enough to be any real danger here, it’s really shallow, too –” They snapped their mouth shut, grabbing for their ear to stroke. “Sorry. Uhm… yeah. I can show you.”

“You would?”

“Yeah! For sure!”

The first hours of morning were spent thrashing around in the sea – nowhere too deep – with Lou’s guiding hand beneath his stomach holding him afloat while he worked on strokes. They amusedly taught him something they called the ‘dog crawl’, outlining some pros and cons of that particular style. When he could do that with some confidence, they went over the strokes of something they said was ‘either butterfly or breast swimming, I don’t really know – or care…’ – and by the time they were both hungry enough to eat a full meal, Lou announced he’d made great progress.

They toasted bread for breakfast, downing it with their leftover wildberry juice and herbal tea and cold potatoes.

“What is this place, anyway?” asked Lou, after their first slice but before their third, gesturing towards the cabin. “Like… why is it here? It’s not part of the game.”

“Ah.” Leshy glanced towards the cabin. “It is… a long story.”

Lou tensed – rushing to say, “you – you don’t have to tell me if – ”

“You are aware, of course,” Leshy interrupted loudly, “that there were better times. I had a good relationship with the other Scrybes.”

Slowly, Lou nodded. “Yeah…?”

“Our temples,” Leshy continued, pouring himself more tea, “were coded as part of the game. They were not built. This cabin…” He paused, taking a sip. “We built it together. All four of us – it is approximately the same distance from every temple, I will mark it on the maps for you once we return – we came here to spend time. Alone, with each other…”

Lou pulled the shawl Leshy had given them to stave off the cold out in front of them, frowning at the pattern. “Grimora,” they muttered. “This is hers.”

Leshy smiled. He had an inkling it would not appear very happy. “What gave it away?”

“Sixth sense,” said Lou drily, holding up the corner embroidered with a skull.

“Of course,” said Leshy. “Yes, Grimora… she came here for the same reason as I – the ink. Magnificus enjoyed painting the landscape – the sea and her many moods, he used to say. And P03…”

He hesitated, thinking back to who had once been his best friend.

Before everything went wrong.

They had spent nights here together, beneath the sun and the moon and the stars, and Leshy had taught him the ways of life and P03 had painstakingly laid out the inner workings of technology – and more than once they had come together and seen how marvelous the world could be, if only they worked as one.

“P03 was… he…”

If only they worked as one, and now he was trapped in the body of a stoat in the paper of a card, and Leshy was sure he had done the right thing but he hadn’t even realized –

Lou put a hand on his. “It’s okay,” they muttered. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Leshy exhaled. “You deserve to know. After all you have told me…”

Gently, far too gently, Lou said, “this isn’t a transactional thing, Leshy. It’s not like I tell you something, then you have to tell me something. You tell me what you want to. Okay?”

He bent his head to watch them – their soft expression, their curves where P03 had always been hard edges, their understanding and comfort. “Okay,” he allowed. “Alright, yes. I understand.”

“Great,” said Lou, smiling with chapped lips and chipped teeth, so organic and alive and beastly – and rose to their feet, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now, let’s go grab some squid, yeah?”

*

That evening they ate squid stuffed with bell-pepper-carrot-honey-stew, which was more miss than hit, but still vastly better than Leshy’s past attempts.

“Another day or so?” Lou asked, swirling the half-full glass bottle so the dark ink sloshed up to coat the sides.

“I would assume so,” said Leshy. “I would let you stay longer – do not look at me like that, I can tell you enjoy this – but I would prefer to get home before spring sets in.”

“Oh?” Lou tilted their head, ear dangling dangerously close to the fire before they snatched it back with a sheepish grin. “Why?”

“Well…” Leshy shifted, looking at the fire, then the sky, then off to the side. “Well, you see, I – there is this thing called mating season…”

Lou dropped their squid to the ground and started coughing. Violently. “Sorry,” they wheezed, “sorry, sorry – ”

“I see you are familiar with… with the concept.”

“Right, right, yes,” said Lou, patting their chest and gasping for breath. “I – I see your dilemma.” They cleared their throat, red in the face, and – after a moment of staring at him – said, “I – I’ve been thinking about what you said, some time ago, that – that I should make my own deck. Like, of cards.”

Taking the olive branch for what it was, Leshy grasped onto it with both hands and said, “yes, I remember – I do remember saying that. What have you concluded?”

Lou chewed on their lip. “I’d like to do that. But I – I’m gonna need your help to balance it out. And I’m not sure how to… like, what should my characters be? Yours are beasts, Grimora’s are death related, P03’s are robots, Magnificus’ are wizard stuff…”

“You may notice they are directly tied to what we are Scrybes of.”

“Well, duh.” Lou dragged a hand through their hair. “But I’m not a Scrybe.”

That much was true… at least for now. “And what if you were?”

“Sorry?”

“If you were a Scrybe,” Leshy repeated, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you think you would be the Scrybe of?”

Lou wrinkled their nose. “No clue. It could be anything… well, beyond ‘stamina’.” They chuckled at their own joke, then cleared their throat and shuffled their feet. “No, but I don’t know.”

Leshy was about to say the Scrybe of Words, but then he recalled their doodles and carvings and their songs, their bookbindings and flower collages and eye to detail, their cooking and their laughter and their smile, and he realized they would be the Scrybe of so, so much more.

So many important things, there was only one word he could think of that would encompass all of it.

“The Scrybe of Arts,” he said, aloud. “That is what you would be. The Scrybe of Arts.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Lou – grinning. “Not that that helps. What, would a card just be, ‘quill’? Two attack, one health, ability: none.” They chuckled. “I don’t think so.”

“Eraser,” Leshy countered. “Zero attack, zero health, ability: erase any given sigil on the board.”

Lou laughed. “Book, two attack, two health, ability: guard dog.”

“See? Quite doable.”

Shaking their head, Lou leaned back in their seat – mouth curved in a lazy smile. “Man, I dunno. I guess. It just seems a bit… cheesy. Dull?”

“You could have epic cards such as ‘singer’, or ‘author’ – perhaps, if you have a quill on the board, it makes the author stronger? Or if you have a painter and a paintbrush, it does the same.”

“Maybe,” Lou allowed. They yawned, covering their mouth with the back of their hand. “Christ, it’s late. Listen, I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Certainly,” said Leshy. “Of course, yes.”

He was… inexplicably excited about the creation of this deck.

*

They packed up and left two days later, when they’d filled the bottle with ink and ate enough squid for a whole year. Lou took one last swim in the ocean and followed it up with a dip in the far colder river to clean off the salt, Leshy rested his hand against the spot on the doorframe where they always said farewell, and then they were off.

*

Two days.

It took two days.

They were two thirds of the way home when the overture to spring reached its climax and the cymbals hit and Leshy woke up warm.

His heat always came in stages, and that was the only positive thing in this whole ordeal – it meant he could pull himself together and roll away from Lou and splash cold water in his face, all before they woke.

He had been so certain his heat wouldn’t hit before they were home – in familiar waters, with beasts who knew him and would not mind helping him out – how could he have miscalculated so badly?

Lou, though – they were right there, and he had pleased them before, would it not be fair to ask –

No, he told himself sternly, no, absolutely not. It would not be fair to ask, because Lou would feel obligated to consent, and forced consent was not consent.

He had time. Surely he had time – it was only a day or so more to make it back to safe waters. Then he could slip away and take his time to sate his needs and return to life at the cabin as though nothing had ever happened, and Lou would be none the wiser.

Well, that wasn’t quite true – Lou would likely understand – but then he would, at least, not hurt them.

Right. Yes. Right.

The day passed in a haze of spurring Bella into a faster trot – there was no longer any snow on the ground, but the sled was made to be used on all terrain, and so it only slowed them marginally. Lou threw him worried glances but said nothing and kept their distance when he withdrew, and Leshy ached, ached.

For them? Maybe, yes – for anything. It wasn’t quite arousal, closer to hunger – a physical pain, a discomfort that wouldn’t go away, that clouded his thoughts and made him irrational. Only his respect for Bella’s wishes and the Prospector’s loyalty kept him from stealing her away to ease the pressure. As it was, he snuck away during pauses under the guise of toilet breaks and spent the time shoved up against trees humping into his own palm.

When nighttime at last arrived, he had to reject Lou and curl up on the other side of the campfire. They were confused, and a bit hurt, but it was better this way – better they confused and uncertain than torn and traumatized.

Imagery of deep seas and unending landscapes haunted his dreams; of drowning, and falling into a vast, aching darkness that only seemed to pull him further down the harder he pushed away – the moon hanging high overhead lighting the path to a lonely cabin where Lou lay gasping on the floor, Le – shy –

“-shy? Leshy!”

He jerked away from their touch, skin aflame. He itched, all over, it was magma flowing straight from his brainstem to his core, making him throb inside out. It was dark, he absently noted, still night – Lou was knelt beside him, eyes wide and clear and frantic. “Are you okay?” they hissed, hand returning to his shoulder with full force. “You were making these horrid sounds – ”

“I’m fine,” Leshy gasped, trying to shuffle away without giving into the want to shuffle closer. Images of Lou – of him – of them –

“No, you’re bloody fucking well not!” Lou snapped. “What’s up with you? You’ve been weird all day! Are you sick? Even Melchior is worried about you, just – ”

“I am in heat,” Leshy exclaimed.

The clouds parted. Their campsite lightened just in time for Leshy to catch Lou’s expression going lax.

“I apologize,” said Leshy, through gritted teeth, as he once again tried to shuffle away. He’d nearly fallen off his pelt by now, not that he cared, “that I am worrying you, but you need – you need not, I – I will just have a few painful days – ”

“Painful?” Lou interrupted, looking him up and down with pursed lips.

“Do not – ”

“How can I help?”

Leshy drew a sharp breath. “Lou. I – I do not want to – you should not – ”

Lou raised their chin, tail whipping at empty air behind them. “If you can look me right in the eye right fucking now and say you don’t want to fuck me, I’ll stop bothering you. I’ll go to sleep, and you can go fuck something else if that’s better, if I’ve scared you away with the pathetic show a few months ago, but if you feel so inclined to ease your pain overnight, I will not push you away.”

“Wh… what?”

“Oh my G – ” Lou sighed and grabbed his shoulders, jostling him with vigour. “I’m asking for your consent, you dumb fuck! I’ve given mine!” They moved a hand to his face, feeling his forehead. “You’re burning up, you twig, this can’t be good for you.”

Leshy had tensed at their touch. Every ounce of self-control he had was being used to keep himself in one piece. “Lou – ”

Lou let go at his warning growl. “I’m not the only one with a hero complex,” they stated pointedly. “I’m sorry for how I reacted back in December, I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about it since then, I’m sorry if that’s what made you lose interest in me. If you want to fuck me now, fuck me, damnit, Leshy, I want you.”

There was still time, he argued with himself, still reasons to hold on. And hold on he did, by the teeth. “Don’t force yourself,” he whispered harshly. “I have – I cannot promise I will stop. I am going to hurt you.”

Lou’s gaze flicked.

This was it, of course, he’d finally gotten through to them. Good.

“Then so be it,” said Lou, and raised their chin. “Then so be it, Leshy, if it means we rip off the bandaid and talk about it later. But later, okay? I can see how much pain you’re in. Is there any reason beyond a weak attempt at protecting me that you wouldn’t fuck me right now? Am I gross? Do I smell? Is there any reason, any at all?”

Leshy, rather tellingly, kept his mouth shut.

“Right,” said Lou, and sat back. “Right, good.” They tore their jacket off and wrung their t-shirt over their head, revealing breasts with nipples perk from the cold air and silvery strings of stretch marks and miles upon miles of bare, milky skin.

“Lou,” Leshy whispered.

Lou sighed, shoulders tilting forward, skin creasing. They looked at him – really looked at him, it seemed, and he wanted those eyes to see every inch of him, wanted those eyes to roll back in pleasure, wanted that mouth –

He shook his head, couldn’t speak, couldn’t say any of it – couldn’t think of any reason why he shouldn’t.

And still, Lou waited. They didn’t move, only watched him, something soft about their eyes. An owl hooted in the distance, and a breeze rustled the leaves overhead – spring was truly marching in, even if they were only in early clutches. The night’s darkness clung like a film around the world, coating all that was in the blue hue – above, far above, the stars twinkled and shone.

If he moved, the serenity would break and he would lose the fight to the hunger. Prisoner in his own body, to his own desires and wants, and yes, it was true, he realized now, he wanted Lou. Not any beast of the forest, not his own palm. How long had he wanted? Since he saw them naked that first time? Since they moaned his name into the dark of night? Since he tasted them, held them, heard them cry?

Since the very first day they had stepped foot in his cabin?

“You do not have to do this,” he croaked.

“And yet,” said Lou softly, “I want to. To please you, yes. But also out of pure fucking selfish gain. You’re hot, Leshy. The thought of you doing things to me… actually – you do have a cock, right?”

Leshy groaned, fingers curling into his palms so hard his nails were sure to leave scratches and marks. It twisted inside of him, in his groin, he couldn’t hold it back anymore – felt his cock slip out of the internal sheath, then the external – hissed at the air, a cold caress against the hot, sensitive flesh.

Lou inhaled. “Oh my God, you do. Oh my God. Okay.” They shuffled closer – reached out a hand to touch, brushing just their fingertips across the tip. It went like a shock through him – more slipped out, his hips twitched into their hand. “Ohh, fuck, Leshy. This is… it’s so warm and wet…” When they looked up at him their pupils were blown wide, face burning red. “Is there more?”

He tried to speak, tried to find words to say – couldn’t feel his tongue, resorted to nodding.

“Show me.”

He let the rest slip out, tip and shaft and base and knot, and moaned in relief when the building pressure in his abdomen let up.

“Fuck,” Lou breathed. They splayed their fingers out across it – Leshy bucked into them again with a whine, doing all he could, all he could to stay focused on staying still and not pinning them to the ground and –

He’d had that thought before.

It stirred the memory of –

“L – Lou – ”

They ripped their hand away. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked first!”

Leshy managed to locate his tongue and said, “tie. Tie me – I – I do not want to be – I cannot – ”

Lou cursed. “You’re that hot and bothered, huh? Just by me… fuck, shit, okay.” They hummed a few nonsense tones and glittering ropes of gold sprung free from nothing – they wound about his ankles and thighs, pulling his arms above his head and fastening his wrists to one another.

Defenseless.

A throb went through him. He squirmed, bucking up into the air, needing –

“What’s your safeword?” said Lou.

“H – wha?”

“Your safeword,” said Lou again. “This is really weird, I’m not used to being the dom – thanks for the offer, though, with the tying – I would love to…” The trailed off, shook their head. “Sorry. If you want me to stop, what’re you gonna tell me?”

Leshy fought the haze in an attempt to think. “I – I… st – stop?”

“A classic,” Lou nodded. “Good choice. Tell me if you need anything else, yeah?” They didn’t wait for his response before focusing back on his cock – sliding fingers down the base, lingering over the knot. “Is this a knot, Leshy?” He managed a nod. “Fuck, that’s hot. Fuck. Fuck, okay.”

They swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him – they pushed backward and leaned down, resting all along his legs, and the weight made him squirm and buck his hips again. Lou giggled a bit, then choked on a gasp – they were rutting against him, some half-present part of him realized.

And then there was a tongue on his cock.

Leshy gasped. Then keened, and moaned, straining against the golden ropes. Fuck, but it was good. Not much of a touch, just a gentle lapping of a small tongue, exploratory in nature, but he needed –

Lou dug their fingers into his hips and shot upright, shuffling forward. He lifted his head just in time to see them push up against him, one hand on his thigh for support and the other reaching down between them to part their fur –

The warm wetness of their slit brushed up against his knot. More, he needed –

“More,” he gasped, “please, more –”

Lou shut their eyes and clawed at him, breathing shallowly, chest fluttering wildly. “Wait,” they said, “wait, just a little, I – I need – ” And as Leshy watched, they lifted their hips and leaned backward and sunk three fingers into themselves all at once.

He throbbed, and ached, and hungered.

“Just a bit,” Lou whispered, pumping once, twice, thrice.

When they pulled their hand back thick strings of fluid clung to their fingers. They huffed and sucked the digits clean – Leshy whined, twitching.

“Here goes,” Lou muttered. “I’ll let you go soon, okay, so you can – can do your thing, I just gotta…” They raised their hips again, one hand for support and the other on Leshy’s cock – holding it, guiding it, and –

He slid inside with a long, drawn-out groan. Tight. Tight, wet, warm, tight, good. Lou’s expression was one of focus, eyes shut and mouth open, frowning as they sunk down, taking him, inch by inch by inch.

Their hands were twitching violently when they let go and took the final length until all that remained was his knot, pressed firm up against their clit and soaked fur. “Fuck,” they whispered. “Fuck. Fuck. Just a – just a moment…”

Leshy was lightheaded, the world was spinning, and Lou was twitching on his cock moaning quietly as they rubbed themselves to climax. It wasn’t enough for him to cum – he needed pressure on the knot – but it was enough for him to squirm and pant and chitter.

“Once more,” Lou whispered. “Once…”

Once again they rubbed to climax.

They opened their eyes, staring down at him. “Fuck, Leshy – mm.” Slowly, they raised their hips – sunk down again. Once, twice. Then faster – deeper – “right right right,” Lou blurted, “I’m letting you go, now, I’m ready for – I’m ready.”

The ropes flickered and disappeared.

Leshy pounced, tearing the both of them over – Lou crying out as they were shoved onto the ground, he couldn’t care, too far gone, hips snapping in, in, in –

Lou moaned and gasped and cried out, a mixture of words he couldn’t make out in his desperate haze of finally finally finally so good –

He didn’t realize he’d cum before after the fact. After his knot had slipped in and swollen and he’d gone still atop Lou – it wasn’t until then he came back to himself and his senses, his heat a gentle buzzing at the back of his skull.

Lou’s face was wet with tears.

“Lou!” Leshy exclaimed, horrified.

“Huh?” Lou blinked. “Wh – oh, no, no!” They gestured frantically with quivering hands. “It’s good! It’s good tears, it was just – ” They chuckled wetly, wiping at their face. “I guess I’m just the guy who cries during sex. Pretty weird of me, huh?”

Relieved, Leshy tried to find a comfortable position – locked into place as he was. “No,” he muttered, ending up with Lou in his arms and the two of them on their sides. “That is not weird. Sex is a highly intimate act, especially, I believe, in your culture.”

“Oh, you’re back!” Lou grinned up at him. “In that case, can we somehow get some water or something? I’m dying of thirst.” The grin turned dopey. “And not just for that dick, damn. Gonna be sore for a few days for sure.”

“I will try.”

Some muttered complaints, stumbles, and shuffling about later, they had settled into the pelts with a waterskin beside them. “So,” said Lou slowly, “is this, like… is this it? Are you still in heat?”

“Yes,” said Leshy, “but this should have taken the edge off.” He trailed a hand down their soft waves, then down their spine – enjoying how they hummed and sighed at the touch. “Thank you, Lou.”

“Wanted to,” Lou muttered. “Want to again, sometime. We’re fine, right?”

“Yes,” said Leshy. “Absolutely fine.”

“Cool. Cool… ‘m gonna sleep now.”

“Of course. Sleep well, my beast.”

“You, too. Or something.”

*

Their return home was slowed from a day to nearly three. Progress halted not just because Bella and the sled had some difficulties with uneven terrain, but also because they had sex several times. Each morning at the very least, sometimes after dinner and once also in the middle of the day.

“There we go, big guy,” Lou said, after the third time that day, tired and laughing. “That any better?” He muttered a confirmation, burrowing his face into their neck and enjoying the closeness. “Yeah, sure hope so. Dunno how long I’ll be able to keep this up.”

“Not much left,” Leshy mumbled, nuzzling down along their collarbone. Lou had a hand cupping the back of his head, scratching absently through his fur. “A day, perhaps… it never does last long.”

“Mmmhm. Alright. You might have to carry me, though, if we don’t start using lube.” They paused. “Or we can do anal, I guess. Though we’ll need lube for that, too. Do you even have lube?”

“Sleep,” said Leshy. “It’s late.”

*

“Home, sweet home!” said Lou, throwing open the door to their cabin. “Shit, it’s bigger than I remembered!”

“It tends to be that way,” said Leshy. “Now, come on along and help me unpack.”

*

“Oh, you’re back,” P03 said, once Lou drew him from their deck. “Thank God. Grimora’s been driving be batshit over here.”

Lou laughed. “I’m sure she has. Hey, what do you say about joining a new deck? One where you won’t have to experience death.”

P03 hummed. “Consider me intrigued.”

*

“My drawing tablet deals two damage and gets boosted by the courage of the stoat, dealing an extra point directly to my opponent –”

*

“Your wolf is no match to my quill, boosted by the stinkbug – ”

*

“I play the stunted wolf, giving my paintbrush one extra damage and the alpha sigil – ”

*

“Well played,” said Leshy, giving Lou an appreciative nod after the third time in a row they dealt extra damage. “I think you deserve a reward after such a good play.”

Lou laughed, leaning forward onto their elbows. “Really, now. What sort of reward are we talking?”

“Allow me to show you…”

*

Spring put up little fight against summer. Lou got a tan, Leshy’s fur thinned, and mosquitoes bit them both. They spent hours in the sunshine by the lake – swimming, fishing with the Angler, Lou even held a conversation with the Prospector about dog keeping – and one day they came back to a dark shape residing within the cabin.

A CHALLENGER.

Leshy fumbled and stuttered before he got into the old, outdated campaign he had laid out for CHALLENGERS nearly a year ago. Lou asked no questions, hovering behind his shoulder and grinning wickedly at the CHALLENGER whenever they thought he wasn’t paying attention. They fit in seamlessly with the campaign, muttering beneath their breath to enhance the board with strings and figurines of light, and gave a quiet crow of victory when the CHALLENGER failed.

“Honestly,” they said, once the dark shape flickered out and Leshy shuffled a new card into his deck. “I kinda forgot that whole thing still happens. It’s been so long without…”

Leshy laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Oh, my charge, of course you are not aware – Inscryption works in such a way that there can never be more than one CHALLENGER at a time. The reason there has not been any before?” He leaned forward and down, face hovering just beside Lou’s as he breathed, “is you.”

Lou squeaked. “M – me?”

“Yes.” Leshy straightened again. “Do you understand what that means?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Inscryption has ceased to consider you a CHALLENGER.”

When had the shift happened? Was it when he begun to consider them as such? When he suggested they make a deck? When they joked about it, when they played with it – when they, at last, accepted it?

“Then,” said Lou, blinking rapidly. “Then what am I?”

Leshy reached for them, brushing the pads of his fingers over their soft cheeks. “You, my dearest beast,” he muttered, “are the Scrybe of Arts. May it forever be that way.”

Saying so, he leaned down and captured their lips in a sweet, hungering kiss.