I Think We're Close Enough

Relm had been right. Alastor knew what she was struggling with, but only the most basic ideal of it. He hadn't lived her life. He didn't know the conflict she had within around her emotions. But he did know about conflict with emotions. It was a battle he'd fought for all of his young life, up until he'd taken control of it back on the brink of madness in his adulthood. Perhaps that would draw sympathy from some, like Manea or Lurid, but not understanding. No one ever understood how it felt to feel like a fundamental part of yourself was broken, twisted, defective; how it felt like to feel as if you were out of step with your own body and mind. Alastor hid it well, masked beneath manic indifference and demented humor and bloodlust. He was a monster to many, a reaper of death to others, or a role model to the poor bastards who liked what they saw. But no one knew the struggle of living within a prison of your own mental illness. No one... except maybe Relm. She may have had a small inkling of what he experienced from her own struggles with her self-identity and the war between her body and mind leftover from Kefka's parenting style. He would likely never know though.

The subdued voice of Relm broke the quiet, answering his question and affirming that they should head back. Alastor released Relm, albeit slowly and with some reluctance, so that she could pull away. She didn't right away, and Alastor took the few extra moments to really commit the memory to his brain. He wanted to remember this. He wanted this to replace the frenzied fucking they'd had shortly after he'd eviscerated her father. The gentle lapping of cool lake water against their coupled bodies, the chorus of nocturnal summer insects around them, the moonlight playing off of Relm's fur and accentuating her frame in the dim light, her scent in his nose and her warmth held against his form... This was what he wanted to remember. The good, and reject the bad. Embracing his future and abandoning his past once and for all. He would never be forgiven for the things he did, and when judgment day came for him, he would burn for his sins and atrocities—but until then, he would enjoy the good he could find.

As Relm pulled away and rose to her paws, so too did the behemoth of a wolf, clear water sluicing from his muscles and falling from his silken coat like liquid silver in the moonlight. Giant paws carried him back to the shore, gently crunching the pebbly sand underfoot. Alastor shook himself as well, though the irritating quality of his softer fur helped retain water to him and would take longer to air dry than hers did. Neither wolf said a word while they looked back at one another, communicating almost entirely through gazes and glances. Relm didn't need to say anything; Alastor understood. The careful gratitude that showed in his onyx irises hopefully got his message across to her as well. This had been about much more than just fucking for the need. There had been raw emotions and connections he hadn't realized existed before. Still, she was in heat, no matter how close she was to the end of her season. He would need to procure birth control from Irilyth and get it to Relm, lest their actions have lasting consequences. He would not permit her to endure that torment. Together, the two large wolves returned to Alias together, headed to their respective dens for the evening, though Alastor bearing a lot on his mind that would linger for days to come.


"Alastor"