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View an easy to read web version of Astray on my website, along with PDF and EPUB versions.
Astray is a science-fiction drama about leonine-like kethirr working through the trauma that threatens to rend them apart. These guardians and aid-givers must find solace among themselves, least their hearts grow as bitter cold as the long nights of their world, Thirrik.
Chapter synopsis: The life of a karinv—a kethirr without a culture, a people, or a network of aid—is hard, and Qrreia's life has been especially so. A chance encounter makes for a difficult reminder.
Content warnings: Bigotry, childhood trauma.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Last revision: June 1, 2025 - Fixed a minor typo and stray comma. These are the only changes since the recent major update.
The air began to chill, but it was still blessedly warm to Qrreia. Night was usually not her favorite time to be out. Night was cold, and she was in an open air eatery on the roof of a building with a half dozen floors. However, unlike in Nakril-sa’ik, she was dressed in a warm, well-made night outfit of deep grey and indigo. It had a matching, thick, hooded shawl, and they were still hours away from the bitter cold of low-sun.
She’d had enough bitter cold in her life; but this was a place far removed from that desolation. Here, the towers yet stood. Many were sided in, real or faux, sandstone or adobe. It seemed to be a common aesthetic in Thadkrri-sa’ik, which no doubt harkened back to ancient times and long-held cultural preferences. She was reminded of the white stone buildings, with their wooden accents, near the mountains on the edge of the Vasik. It wasn’t entirely pragmatic, but it didn’t have to be. It was, instead, comfortable. Pleasant.
Not that there wasn’t a pragmatic reason for it. During high-sun, Thadkrri’s buildings reflected Zha’s radiance and spared the inhabitants of some of its heat. While each was no doubt climate controlled, and no doubt well-insulated, it still offered a little more energy efficiency. The solar panels on most of them also helped with that.
So much of kethirr design and architecture felt “traditional” in some way. That was why, in the fading heat of the night, so many of those towers were open. The exterior walls of each floor either opened outward like awnings or rolled up like security grates. Within them, Qrreia could see support pillars, colorful cloth dividers, furnishings, and kethirr going on with their lives. Outside of high-sun and low-sun, Thadkrri opened up like a blooming desert flower. So, too, did many kethirr cities. There was something about the open air that was too hard to resist.
Qrreia hadn’t thought of it much before. She’d spent a lot of time outside of bigger settlements, but she had also grown up in the Vastrirrilik. Buildings there remained closed more often due to the weather—though at least it hadn’t been cold at night in the rainforest. Nakril had been entirely different. It was just cold. Always.
But here, there were people who sounded happy and friendly and relaxed. The scent of cooked meat filled the air and mixed with the aroma of spices and sauces and fellow kethirr. There was no roof above her head, but the warmth of the cooking pit, the sandstone floor and parapets, and the many kethirr made it feel cozy. That surprised Qrreia. For a good long while, crowds made her want to recoil and hide. The eatery wasn’t packed, but she still felt like it was progress.
Qrreia was there with Larrin, Grakul, and Varrina—Marrika had been with them, but had just left to meet a fellow Avqilkarvah. Kedarr should have been there, too, but he had again found an excuse to decline. The aircraft, it seemed, needed an immediate diagnostic of all its systems after their trip. Apparently it was keeping Haruna, Durrnok and him busy. It also cast a pall over Grakul.
The others were seated on plush cushions around a small, round table in a corner of the rooftop eatery. They were talking, but Qrreia dipped away to get a little more to eat. In the center of the roof were three stations built into each other down a line, much like a buffet. On one end was a large cooler. Inside were half-meter long sticks poking through multiple slices of various meat. The top of the cooler was sealed with a thick glass lid to keep the contents chilled.
None of the meat came from once-living animals. It was all synthetically grown, like the vast majority of food. Qrreia could taste the difference, but it was far from significant or even worse. That had been a surprising point of similarity with Grakul, who had grown up among a vah of semi-traditional nomads—albeit ones with ample technology that made life far easier. She, too, once ate hunted animals, but that was not a life she’d lived by choice. It was one she preferred to not think about.
Next to the cooler was the sauce and seasoning station. There, Qrreia had to be careful. It was always so tempting to go heavy on vasrril-based options, but she knew it was just for the high, not the taste—and Marrika left the others in charge of keeping Qrreia in check.
The final station was the cooking pit. Like the other two, and virtually everything else in the eatery, it was made out of sandstone. It had a hutch supported by two pillars on either side of the open pit. Half-walls the height of the roof’s parapet surrounded it, and it was lined with little holders for the sticks. Qrreia had placed hers on one of them, which was automatically rotating the kebab. Most people didn’t stay by the pit while their food cooked, but Qrreia couldn’t help herself. There was no real risk of someone swiping her meal—and even if they did, it wasn’t like she couldn’t get more—but it proved to be a hard habit to break.
Her nose twitched at the spiced, roasted meat. Her ears were positioned forward as her entire attention was on it. She was hungry, even if she already had one serving. Qrreia often only ate one meal a day, though not uncommon for kethirr, and it had already been a little longer than 42 hours since she finished the last.
The metal stick slowly began to change color. It went from grey-steel to deep blue, which indicated the food was safe to eat. She reached down to pluck it up, but paused when she saw another hand reaching for a stick next to hers.
“Ah, sorry.”
Qrreia’s ears rotated toward the source of the voice and she looked up at the other kethirr. He was tall, standing at nearly the same height as Grakul, and wore a warm-looking poncho of heavy maroon fabric. However, he lacked the Errant Blade’s musculature, and instead his height came across as lanky. His mane, which curled more than typical, was well tended even if it was a little frazzled at the ends. He struck Qrreia as surprisingly cute, but perhaps that was more due to the friendly look he was giving her. She began to tense.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. She quickly snatched up her kebab so she could make a hasty retreat.
She was too late. “I’m Svratiq Ke-Vrrithkar,” the other kethirr offered with a polite dip of his head.
Qrreia’s throat tightened and she refused to look at him. She kept her kebab close, and murmured, “It is nice to meet you,” as she started to turn away.
“And you are...?” he asked. Her ear flicked. Qrreia could hear the confusion bubbling up under his outward friendliness. She wasn’t sure which would be more awkward, answering him or fleeing.
She remained quiet for a moment. Then, in her whisper of a voice, she said, “Qrreia.”
Svratiq’s ears perked and his shoulders relaxed as he leaned a little toward Qrreia. His tail had given a lazy sway behind him, but it stilled again. Some of the confusion was leaving him, but in its place was expectation. He looked at her, waiting for her to finish her name.
But she already had.
Slowly, realization dawned on him. He drew back and the corners of his mouth pulled into a barely contained snarl. “Didn’t think I’d run into a karinv here,” he spat out. “You steal that outfit from someone? Does the vah running this place even know you’re here leeching on—”
Qrreia rocked forward and stumbled a step. Her ears shot up and her fur bristled, but the arm that was suddenly around the back of her shoulders held her up. It was Varrina. She’d moved up next to Qrreia and tugged the smaller woman close to her side until they were hip-to-hip. Varrina gave Svratiq a smarmy look.
“Oh, was I interrupting something?” she asked. Her voice dripped with sarcasm like the fangs of a vrrith dripped with venom. “Qrreia, who’s your new friend?”
Qrreia may have stumbled forward a step, but Svratiq stumbled back one out of sheer surprise. He rightened himself up again, but was looking between the two women. “You know her?”
“Fuck, I better. We’re vah,” Varrina snorted. “Anyway, why don’t you tell me who you are, huh?”
Svratiq started to open his mouth, but something gave him pause. Qrreia was sure she knew what. Varrina also wasn’t as built as Grakul, but Qrreia was pretty certain she still could have picked Svratiq up and tossed him off the roof. Not that she would. Unless she had to, anyway. It took a moment, but he raised his chin with pride and, eventually, answered. “Svratiq Ke-Vrrithkar.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m Varrina Ke-Vrrithkar.” She gave Qrreia’s shoulders a squeeze. She also pointedly rubbed her cheek affectionately against the smaller woman’s head. Varrina’s eyes never left his, though.
“You’re in a vah with a karinv?” Svratiq’s nose scrunched up.
“Two,” Varrina replied and bared her fangs in a grin. “Used to have more before they became Vrrithkarvah.”
“You got them adopted? Why would—”
“Me? Nah. But others of our vah. Nevrra Sa-Vrrithkar, Durrnok Sa-Vrrithkar and, before he passed, Zarnik Sa-Vrrithkar.”
Qrreia didn’t miss the emphasis on the three’s honorifics. Svratiq didn’t either. His open disgust was rapidly being replaced. His nose unscrunched. His ears folded back and his tail lowered. He seemed to shrink before the two other kethirr. “Three Sa-Vrrithkar?”
“Two now,” Varrina replied with a shrug. “Fucking hurts, you know? But being an Errant Blade has its risks, right?”
“Sorry,” was all Svratiq managed before he retreated.
Qrreia wasn’t surprised Svratiq didn’t interrogate Varrina’s claims. Lying about being part of a kar was a good way to get into a great deal of trouble. It’s what forced Qrreia to out herself as karinv—just like every single time she introduced herself to anyone. It was one of the many indignities karinv were stuck with. Lying about being an Errant Blade was even worse. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to sully his own reputation further. Errant Blades were usually well respected and well connected.
With a nudge, Varrina lead Qrreia over to the side of the roof while keeping her close. While they faced out over the parapet, she looked at Qrreia. “You okay?”
“It’s fine,” Qrreia replied. Even to her, it sounded weak. She did not return Varrina’s gaze, but instead she looked out past the parapet and down toward a small, sandy park nestled between towers. It looked quiet there.
“Yeah, no. It isn’t.” Varrina let out a growl from the back of her throat. “That utter fuck. He’s fucking Vrrithkarvah, too. He should know better than to be such an asshole.”
“No one’s perfect,” Qrreia said through a sigh.
“Yeah, no fucking kidding. But Vrrithkarvah are supposed to better than that. We’re taught to be better than that.” Varrina’s tail lashed behind her. “Yeah, you’re karinv. You were born that way. Is that somehow your fucking fault? No.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
“Well, he shouldn’t assume it,” Varrina snapped back with the growl still in her voice. Qrreia didn’t take it personally. She knew it wasn’t directed at her. “Even then, someone who makes a stupid mistake can become better. Fuck, I mean, look at Larrin.”
She did. Larrin was looking back at the two of them, and Qrreia noted the sway of her tail and her forward-facing ears. Qrreia couldn’t imagine Larrin could hear them, but she was certainly focused on them. So was Grakul.
“So? You okay? Can I help?” The growl left Varrina’s voice, and she even almost sounded gentle.
Qrreia tilted her head to the side and looked up toward her. “I thought you...”
“What?”
“I thought you didn’t like me being coddled.”
Varrina’s head moved back with a start, but she squeezed her arm tightly around Qrreia’s shoulders again. “What? Sure, yeah, I don’t,” Varrina replied. “This isn’t coddling you. I just backed you up. I want to make sure you’re alright. Like I said, you can’t help being karinv. You don’t deserve to get bulled for that shit.”
“I—” Qrreia started, but she cut off with a sigh and a small shake of her head. “Okay. Thank you.”
She started to slip out of Varrina’s hold, but the Errant Blade caught her arm. Qrreia paused and looked back at Varrina. The taller woman’s ears had splayed and her head tilted to the side. Varrina’s brow was furrowed and she tugged a little on Qrreia’s arm in a silent ask for her to move a little closer. Qrreia hesitated, but she did.
“We’re vah.” Varrina leaned a little toward Qrreia and kept her voice low.
“Yeah...”
“You know I care about you, right?”
Qrreia stayed close, but she blinked at Varrina’s question. She wasn’t sure how to respond, and it allowed a silence to uncomfortably grow.
Varrina’s grasp on her arm loosened and her hand fell away. It was brief, but her ears pinned back. “I do care about you. I get I’m not always the most affectionate person, but I do.”
“You tell everyone to stop being kind to me...”
Varrina raised a hand up to rub at her eyes before it dropped back down. “Qrreia, I want you to be okay,” she said. “We’re an Errant Blade vah. You didn’t get the training a lot of us did yet. We do dangerous shit. I get you had a hard life, but you need the strength to keep going, right? People treating you like you’re a fucking cub all the time isn’t going to help you do that.”
Qrreia stared at her for a long moment, silently. Varrina’s ears began to pivot, but they focused on her again. Her nose twitched. Her tail twitched. “What? They do. Sure, Larrin and Grakul fuck you often enough, but the rest of the time they treat—”
“Varrina.” Qrreia spoke no more loudly than her normal whisper. It still came out firm. Varrina paused and leaned back a bit. Her tail swayed behind her. Qrreia continued. “I lived on my own when I was a cub. If they treated me like a cub, they’d toss me out into the street and tell me ‘good luck’ like everyone else did. And, you know what? I’d live. I know how to live like that. I had to. For years I had to do that.”
“Yeah, sure, but—”
“I learned to survive,” she continued, barreling past Varrina’s attempt to speak. “I met other people, but I usually couldn’t trust them. Not really. When I tried, I usually regretted it. Then, I got jabbed with a needle and stripped of what little control I had over my life. I was tormented. Isolated. I was fucked up. And I still nearly killed Nevrra and left the rest of you in fire and smoke.”
Varrina rarely backed down from an argument, but for once, she was left without a reply. The Errant Blade’s eyes were locked onto Qrreia, but she said nothing, no matter how hard it looked like she was trying.
“They aren’t coddling me,” Qrreia said. Her tone softened again and she reached over to gently take Varrina’s hand. “They’re just giving me what I’ve never been allowed to have. It isn’t pain or self-reliance that makes me strong. That never helped me before. It just made me weaker. But do you know what does now? It’s knowing that I have somewhere with people who love me and want to help me.”
She squeezed Varrina’s hand and leaned to nuzzle at the Errant Blade’s shoulder. Qrreia then let go and moved away from her. This time, she wasn’t stopped. Varrina quietly walked back to the others, her arm around Qrreia’s shoulders again.
Astray is a science-fiction drama about leonine-like kethirr working through the trauma that threatens to rend them apart. These guardians and aid-givers must find solace among themselves, least their hearts grow as bitter cold as the long nights of their world, Thirrik.
Chapter synopsis: The life of a karinv—a kethirr without a culture, a people, or a network of aid—is hard, and Qrreia's life has been especially so. A chance encounter makes for a difficult reminder.
Content warnings: Bigotry, childhood trauma.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Last revision: June 1, 2025 - Fixed a minor typo and stray comma. These are the only changes since the recent major update.
Chapter 4
Bonds
The air began to chill, but it was still blessedly warm to Qrreia. Night was usually not her favorite time to be out. Night was cold, and she was in an open air eatery on the roof of a building with a half dozen floors. However, unlike in Nakril-sa’ik, she was dressed in a warm, well-made night outfit of deep grey and indigo. It had a matching, thick, hooded shawl, and they were still hours away from the bitter cold of low-sun.
She’d had enough bitter cold in her life; but this was a place far removed from that desolation. Here, the towers yet stood. Many were sided in, real or faux, sandstone or adobe. It seemed to be a common aesthetic in Thadkrri-sa’ik, which no doubt harkened back to ancient times and long-held cultural preferences. She was reminded of the white stone buildings, with their wooden accents, near the mountains on the edge of the Vasik. It wasn’t entirely pragmatic, but it didn’t have to be. It was, instead, comfortable. Pleasant.
Not that there wasn’t a pragmatic reason for it. During high-sun, Thadkrri’s buildings reflected Zha’s radiance and spared the inhabitants of some of its heat. While each was no doubt climate controlled, and no doubt well-insulated, it still offered a little more energy efficiency. The solar panels on most of them also helped with that.
So much of kethirr design and architecture felt “traditional” in some way. That was why, in the fading heat of the night, so many of those towers were open. The exterior walls of each floor either opened outward like awnings or rolled up like security grates. Within them, Qrreia could see support pillars, colorful cloth dividers, furnishings, and kethirr going on with their lives. Outside of high-sun and low-sun, Thadkrri opened up like a blooming desert flower. So, too, did many kethirr cities. There was something about the open air that was too hard to resist.
Qrreia hadn’t thought of it much before. She’d spent a lot of time outside of bigger settlements, but she had also grown up in the Vastrirrilik. Buildings there remained closed more often due to the weather—though at least it hadn’t been cold at night in the rainforest. Nakril had been entirely different. It was just cold. Always.
But here, there were people who sounded happy and friendly and relaxed. The scent of cooked meat filled the air and mixed with the aroma of spices and sauces and fellow kethirr. There was no roof above her head, but the warmth of the cooking pit, the sandstone floor and parapets, and the many kethirr made it feel cozy. That surprised Qrreia. For a good long while, crowds made her want to recoil and hide. The eatery wasn’t packed, but she still felt like it was progress.
Qrreia was there with Larrin, Grakul, and Varrina—Marrika had been with them, but had just left to meet a fellow Avqilkarvah. Kedarr should have been there, too, but he had again found an excuse to decline. The aircraft, it seemed, needed an immediate diagnostic of all its systems after their trip. Apparently it was keeping Haruna, Durrnok and him busy. It also cast a pall over Grakul.
The others were seated on plush cushions around a small, round table in a corner of the rooftop eatery. They were talking, but Qrreia dipped away to get a little more to eat. In the center of the roof were three stations built into each other down a line, much like a buffet. On one end was a large cooler. Inside were half-meter long sticks poking through multiple slices of various meat. The top of the cooler was sealed with a thick glass lid to keep the contents chilled.
None of the meat came from once-living animals. It was all synthetically grown, like the vast majority of food. Qrreia could taste the difference, but it was far from significant or even worse. That had been a surprising point of similarity with Grakul, who had grown up among a vah of semi-traditional nomads—albeit ones with ample technology that made life far easier. She, too, once ate hunted animals, but that was not a life she’d lived by choice. It was one she preferred to not think about.
Next to the cooler was the sauce and seasoning station. There, Qrreia had to be careful. It was always so tempting to go heavy on vasrril-based options, but she knew it was just for the high, not the taste—and Marrika left the others in charge of keeping Qrreia in check.
The final station was the cooking pit. Like the other two, and virtually everything else in the eatery, it was made out of sandstone. It had a hutch supported by two pillars on either side of the open pit. Half-walls the height of the roof’s parapet surrounded it, and it was lined with little holders for the sticks. Qrreia had placed hers on one of them, which was automatically rotating the kebab. Most people didn’t stay by the pit while their food cooked, but Qrreia couldn’t help herself. There was no real risk of someone swiping her meal—and even if they did, it wasn’t like she couldn’t get more—but it proved to be a hard habit to break.
Her nose twitched at the spiced, roasted meat. Her ears were positioned forward as her entire attention was on it. She was hungry, even if she already had one serving. Qrreia often only ate one meal a day, though not uncommon for kethirr, and it had already been a little longer than 42 hours since she finished the last.
The metal stick slowly began to change color. It went from grey-steel to deep blue, which indicated the food was safe to eat. She reached down to pluck it up, but paused when she saw another hand reaching for a stick next to hers.
“Ah, sorry.”
Qrreia’s ears rotated toward the source of the voice and she looked up at the other kethirr. He was tall, standing at nearly the same height as Grakul, and wore a warm-looking poncho of heavy maroon fabric. However, he lacked the Errant Blade’s musculature, and instead his height came across as lanky. His mane, which curled more than typical, was well tended even if it was a little frazzled at the ends. He struck Qrreia as surprisingly cute, but perhaps that was more due to the friendly look he was giving her. She began to tense.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. She quickly snatched up her kebab so she could make a hasty retreat.
She was too late. “I’m Svratiq Ke-Vrrithkar,” the other kethirr offered with a polite dip of his head.
Qrreia’s throat tightened and she refused to look at him. She kept her kebab close, and murmured, “It is nice to meet you,” as she started to turn away.
“And you are...?” he asked. Her ear flicked. Qrreia could hear the confusion bubbling up under his outward friendliness. She wasn’t sure which would be more awkward, answering him or fleeing.
She remained quiet for a moment. Then, in her whisper of a voice, she said, “Qrreia.”
Svratiq’s ears perked and his shoulders relaxed as he leaned a little toward Qrreia. His tail had given a lazy sway behind him, but it stilled again. Some of the confusion was leaving him, but in its place was expectation. He looked at her, waiting for her to finish her name.
But she already had.
Slowly, realization dawned on him. He drew back and the corners of his mouth pulled into a barely contained snarl. “Didn’t think I’d run into a karinv here,” he spat out. “You steal that outfit from someone? Does the vah running this place even know you’re here leeching on—”
Qrreia rocked forward and stumbled a step. Her ears shot up and her fur bristled, but the arm that was suddenly around the back of her shoulders held her up. It was Varrina. She’d moved up next to Qrreia and tugged the smaller woman close to her side until they were hip-to-hip. Varrina gave Svratiq a smarmy look.
“Oh, was I interrupting something?” she asked. Her voice dripped with sarcasm like the fangs of a vrrith dripped with venom. “Qrreia, who’s your new friend?”
Qrreia may have stumbled forward a step, but Svratiq stumbled back one out of sheer surprise. He rightened himself up again, but was looking between the two women. “You know her?”
“Fuck, I better. We’re vah,” Varrina snorted. “Anyway, why don’t you tell me who you are, huh?”
Svratiq started to open his mouth, but something gave him pause. Qrreia was sure she knew what. Varrina also wasn’t as built as Grakul, but Qrreia was pretty certain she still could have picked Svratiq up and tossed him off the roof. Not that she would. Unless she had to, anyway. It took a moment, but he raised his chin with pride and, eventually, answered. “Svratiq Ke-Vrrithkar.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m Varrina Ke-Vrrithkar.” She gave Qrreia’s shoulders a squeeze. She also pointedly rubbed her cheek affectionately against the smaller woman’s head. Varrina’s eyes never left his, though.
“You’re in a vah with a karinv?” Svratiq’s nose scrunched up.
“Two,” Varrina replied and bared her fangs in a grin. “Used to have more before they became Vrrithkarvah.”
“You got them adopted? Why would—”
“Me? Nah. But others of our vah. Nevrra Sa-Vrrithkar, Durrnok Sa-Vrrithkar and, before he passed, Zarnik Sa-Vrrithkar.”
Qrreia didn’t miss the emphasis on the three’s honorifics. Svratiq didn’t either. His open disgust was rapidly being replaced. His nose unscrunched. His ears folded back and his tail lowered. He seemed to shrink before the two other kethirr. “Three Sa-Vrrithkar?”
“Two now,” Varrina replied with a shrug. “Fucking hurts, you know? But being an Errant Blade has its risks, right?”
“Sorry,” was all Svratiq managed before he retreated.
Qrreia wasn’t surprised Svratiq didn’t interrogate Varrina’s claims. Lying about being part of a kar was a good way to get into a great deal of trouble. It’s what forced Qrreia to out herself as karinv—just like every single time she introduced herself to anyone. It was one of the many indignities karinv were stuck with. Lying about being an Errant Blade was even worse. She didn’t blame him for not wanting to sully his own reputation further. Errant Blades were usually well respected and well connected.
With a nudge, Varrina lead Qrreia over to the side of the roof while keeping her close. While they faced out over the parapet, she looked at Qrreia. “You okay?”
“It’s fine,” Qrreia replied. Even to her, it sounded weak. She did not return Varrina’s gaze, but instead she looked out past the parapet and down toward a small, sandy park nestled between towers. It looked quiet there.
“Yeah, no. It isn’t.” Varrina let out a growl from the back of her throat. “That utter fuck. He’s fucking Vrrithkarvah, too. He should know better than to be such an asshole.”
“No one’s perfect,” Qrreia said through a sigh.
“Yeah, no fucking kidding. But Vrrithkarvah are supposed to better than that. We’re taught to be better than that.” Varrina’s tail lashed behind her. “Yeah, you’re karinv. You were born that way. Is that somehow your fucking fault? No.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
“Well, he shouldn’t assume it,” Varrina snapped back with the growl still in her voice. Qrreia didn’t take it personally. She knew it wasn’t directed at her. “Even then, someone who makes a stupid mistake can become better. Fuck, I mean, look at Larrin.”
She did. Larrin was looking back at the two of them, and Qrreia noted the sway of her tail and her forward-facing ears. Qrreia couldn’t imagine Larrin could hear them, but she was certainly focused on them. So was Grakul.
“So? You okay? Can I help?” The growl left Varrina’s voice, and she even almost sounded gentle.
Qrreia tilted her head to the side and looked up toward her. “I thought you...”
“What?”
“I thought you didn’t like me being coddled.”
Varrina’s head moved back with a start, but she squeezed her arm tightly around Qrreia’s shoulders again. “What? Sure, yeah, I don’t,” Varrina replied. “This isn’t coddling you. I just backed you up. I want to make sure you’re alright. Like I said, you can’t help being karinv. You don’t deserve to get bulled for that shit.”
“I—” Qrreia started, but she cut off with a sigh and a small shake of her head. “Okay. Thank you.”
She started to slip out of Varrina’s hold, but the Errant Blade caught her arm. Qrreia paused and looked back at Varrina. The taller woman’s ears had splayed and her head tilted to the side. Varrina’s brow was furrowed and she tugged a little on Qrreia’s arm in a silent ask for her to move a little closer. Qrreia hesitated, but she did.
“We’re vah.” Varrina leaned a little toward Qrreia and kept her voice low.
“Yeah...”
“You know I care about you, right?”
Qrreia stayed close, but she blinked at Varrina’s question. She wasn’t sure how to respond, and it allowed a silence to uncomfortably grow.
Varrina’s grasp on her arm loosened and her hand fell away. It was brief, but her ears pinned back. “I do care about you. I get I’m not always the most affectionate person, but I do.”
“You tell everyone to stop being kind to me...”
Varrina raised a hand up to rub at her eyes before it dropped back down. “Qrreia, I want you to be okay,” she said. “We’re an Errant Blade vah. You didn’t get the training a lot of us did yet. We do dangerous shit. I get you had a hard life, but you need the strength to keep going, right? People treating you like you’re a fucking cub all the time isn’t going to help you do that.”
Qrreia stared at her for a long moment, silently. Varrina’s ears began to pivot, but they focused on her again. Her nose twitched. Her tail twitched. “What? They do. Sure, Larrin and Grakul fuck you often enough, but the rest of the time they treat—”
“Varrina.” Qrreia spoke no more loudly than her normal whisper. It still came out firm. Varrina paused and leaned back a bit. Her tail swayed behind her. Qrreia continued. “I lived on my own when I was a cub. If they treated me like a cub, they’d toss me out into the street and tell me ‘good luck’ like everyone else did. And, you know what? I’d live. I know how to live like that. I had to. For years I had to do that.”
“Yeah, sure, but—”
“I learned to survive,” she continued, barreling past Varrina’s attempt to speak. “I met other people, but I usually couldn’t trust them. Not really. When I tried, I usually regretted it. Then, I got jabbed with a needle and stripped of what little control I had over my life. I was tormented. Isolated. I was fucked up. And I still nearly killed Nevrra and left the rest of you in fire and smoke.”
Varrina rarely backed down from an argument, but for once, she was left without a reply. The Errant Blade’s eyes were locked onto Qrreia, but she said nothing, no matter how hard it looked like she was trying.
“They aren’t coddling me,” Qrreia said. Her tone softened again and she reached over to gently take Varrina’s hand. “They’re just giving me what I’ve never been allowed to have. It isn’t pain or self-reliance that makes me strong. That never helped me before. It just made me weaker. But do you know what does now? It’s knowing that I have somewhere with people who love me and want to help me.”
She squeezed Varrina’s hand and leaned to nuzzle at the Errant Blade’s shoulder. Qrreia then let go and moved away from her. This time, she wasn’t stopped. Varrina quietly walked back to the others, her arm around Qrreia’s shoulders again.
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 130 kB
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