fangs lungs ankles

Tom paused. "No. But what are you going to do, tell Amy or Clem or Ada that they can't?"

Elene bit her lip. "I was thinking -"

He was too quick. "Don't you dare say me. I need to see this, so I can picture it when I tear her limb from limb."

"Right." His fury didn't worry her. She knew he'd never point it her way, and it was all born from care. Not a type of anger she'd ever experienced, and welcome in her life.

"Okay. It's settled, then."

Clem came in from training, sword still in hand, and Amy was already sitting on the couch. Ada followed Elene and Tom down quietly, but Elene felt her sister's fury simmering under the surface.

"Guys, there's a video. It's - I think it's of Calyx."

Amy drew in a sharp breath, and Clem gripped their sword tighter, leather armour creaking in the silence of the room. Sweat plastered their hair to their forehead, and they whispered the incantation that dismissed their armour while locking eyes with Elene.

They moved closer to her, putting a warm hand round her shoulder. "We'll get them back." It was a threat, a promise, an affirmation all in one.

Elene took a deep breath, setting down the laptop on the coffee table and enlarging the video, ignoring her heart beat starting to race in anticipation. The still of Calyx, because it was them, undeniably even through the blur. Their familiar purple tips (God, Elene had helped them dye it in their sink) fell in front of their face and their arms were up and out of frame, prompting a horrid twist in her gut at the implication that they were trapped in more ways than one. Their t-shirt was dirty, ripped to expose their stomach, fraying at the ends.

"Is that our matching shirt?" Ada sounded stunned, and Elene thought of the shirt they'd bought together - looked at the screen, then back at her sister. She didn't want to say it, but she thought it just might be.

They all stared at the still for a few moments. Clem leaned on the couch and breathed deeply, steadily (Elene knew they were steeling themselves for whatever they'd see). The four on the couch huddled together, stock still. In the end, it was Ada who leaned forward and pressed play.

The video took a second to load, then K's voice purred through the screen, both Clem and Elene freezing at the sound.

"Calyx, say hi to your friends!"

Calyx flinched, then raised their head, and oh, this was horrible already. They looked exhausted, a black eye and scratched face painfully visible, and as the camera panned up, Elene's suspicions were confirmed. A chain and manacles connected both hands, and she noticed it was just a little too taut, high up, so Calyx had to stand on their tiptoes. Tom was hardly breathing beside her.

"Don't be rude. Say hello!" Calyx stared at them, at the camera, eyes blaring with anger. It was comforting, to say the least, that all of this hadn't broken them. Yet. Then K threw a punch to their exposed abdomen, swift and sharp, prompting a cry out from all of them except Clem, who, in a moment, shifted to no armour to their dark war armour - and Calyx, who took it with a grim smile.

"Right. Hey, guys. What's up?" Elene choked up at the sound of their voice. They sounded so tired.

"That's better. See, wasn't so hard. Thought I would show you a little of what's going on, put on a little show for you."

"A fucking show?" Tom's hands were in fists, and Elene knew just how hard it was for him to watch Calyx trapped like this.

A thick metal collar became apparent as their hair moved away from their face, and K moved round slightly, revealing the taut chain connecting it to the wall behind them.

"Oh my god. Overkill much?" Amy hissed out, malice evident in their voice.

The collar wasn't tight enough to stop them moving their neck, but Elene noticed redness around the edges of it, on the skin they could see. How long had that been on? Could Calyx breathe properly?

"See, I thought it'd be worth showing how much fun we're having. No need to come and get them, I think we're plenty comfortable here, aren't we, Cee?"

Tom yelled, getting up in a frenzy. "That's not your name to use!" Tom had been the first to shorten Calyx to Cee, Elene knew. It was killing him, to know that they were out somewhere hurting. It was killing them all, but it'd kill him first if they didn't figure something out fast.

"Need to take a break?," Elene asked quietly.

"Cee doesn't get a fucking break. No, no, I'm fine." He sat down, but bit down on his hand. Elene would've usually been the one to nudge and remind him not to go too hard, but considering her own mental state and the nails she was currently digging into her thighs, she didn't feel like she had a hill to stand on.

"Go on, Cee. Beg like you always do for it to stop, hm?"

Their response was razor-quick. "Fuck off. Guys, I'm okay. I know you're working on it."

K hummed, then Elene's eyes widened as she brought out a sharp silver knife into frame. Calyx didn't react, only continued staring daggers at the person behind the camera.

When K spoke again, it was with a lower register, an edge to it. "You're okay? Maybe I haven't done enough then." She put the knife to the exposed part of Cee's throat (God, no.) and Elene could swear that she saw a flash of fear in their eyes as they shifted almost imperceptibly, but hopelessly, away from it. Maybe that was just her own terror.

"Come on, Cee. She can't kill you. She won't." Tom's expression had shifted to pure grief. "Keep fighting, we're coming." His voice broke on coming, and Elene felt much the same. This felt awful.

K shifted the camera downward, and the vague bruises came into focus. Their abdomen was an array of colour, purple and red angry areas mixed with the sick yellow-green of old bruises. Magical scars too, Elene noticed. She knew that particular pain spell like the back of her hand (or the soft part of her stomach, where even now, months later, her skin was twisted and grey in places.) Ada must have seen them too, because Elene saw her sister's hand move to her own chest. Blood stained some parts, small dried cuts with streaks below them and other splatters too - it wasn't clear where all of it had come from, and the thought made Elene feel sick.

K brought the knife low, tracing a long, thin line that became apparent once they got close enough. She pushed it in, denting the skin and they all mirrored Calyx's sharp intake of breath.

Clem hissed. "Cracked ribs?" Then, quietly, "fuck, she probably isn't letting them see a medic."

K's voice was sickly sweet. "Now, Calyx. I wonder what it'll take to make you beg today."

They couldn't see their face, but heard them hiss, "Nothing. You can fuck off if you think this is enough to break me." Then they must've kicked K, out of frame, brought up a knee or tried to knock her over. Elene's brief moment of elation was cut short - almost in an instant, K had raised the camera and scratched 4 thin lines into Calyx's cheek, which all immediately started to show blood. The camera lingered on them now, Calyx's face exposed and red, but the only thing that betrayed their pain was the sharp breaths they took, shallow and inconsistent. Closer up, Elene saw that her suspicions were confirmed, that their deeper breaths were being stopped by the collar. Calyx closed their eyes as K took a step back.

"Come on, pet. That's no way to treat me." Ada made a strangled sound. "You know things like that have consequences."

Amy spoke quietly but intently to the screen. "Cee, just listen to her."

Tom shot them a look, but Clem replied before Tom had a chance to.

"Tom, they're right. It's not worth fighting. Not like this." They sounded murderous, but clear-headed. Logical.

K's voice was laced with faux-hurt. "I thought you'd be grateful to have a chance to show your friends how good you are for me. Or are you just pretending to be brave so they don't see how pathetic you are?" A sharpened nail traced their chin, tilting it upwards with a point sharp as a blade. Elene saw Calyx hold their breath, and felt a lurching in their gut.

Calyx winced, then coughed and spoke through gritted teeth. The scratches on their cheek were already raised and angry, and Elene thought of the time she'd found Calyx dizzy on the kitchen floor after an 'accident' with a knife. Confirming her suspicions, they slurred slightly when they said, "My friends would never think that of me."

"Hm. That's not what, oh, your brave and loyal knight said to me."

Clem made a noise of anguish. "Don't bring me into this." They said shut up at the same time Calyx spat it out.

"Oh, what's gotten into you today? I thought you'd like having a chance to show your friends how good you are for me. Never mind."

The camera dropped slightly, though not completely. Calyx made a confused noise, tilting their head and breathing faster. "Are you - is it done?"

"I've stopped it, yes. If that's what you're asking."

K put the camera down, because it must be a camera, not a phone, because it stayed standing on the floor. And stayed recording, importantly, so they saw the way Calyx sagged against their chains, choking a little, and flinched away from K's grip on their chin. K had their back to the camera, was halfway out of frame, hood up, but it was somehow still focused on Calyx, so they all saw them try to make themselves smaller. An impossible task, but it was evident.

"Sorry." That was a new tone. Quieter, less biting. Scared, they were scared. In a flash, Elene remembered how they'd reacted that first day the truth had come out. Cold dread filled her.

Tom drew in a breath, shaky and worried. "No. Oh, no."

"Mm, was that worth it?"

Calyx didn't answer, just looked away, prompting a swift punch to the abdomen that made them flinch and attempt to bring their legs up, and made Tom swear and bite the palm of his hand.

"I won't ask again. Was that worth it, pet?" Her knife dug into the soft skin of their neck, the exposed part, anyway.

Calyx whimpered, flinching away. "No." Then defiance filled their voice, and they said, "Yes." K stared at them, bringing their other hand up - and Elene jumped a little at the spell they could see building. Dark and steady, a ball of pure pain in her hand.

"Fuck." She leaned forward, her own memory of that pain filling her mind. You don't forget it.

Calyx saw it too, eyes widening. "No - no, wait, please, no, sorry, don't! It wasn't! It wasn't worth it, please!" They thrashed against the chains, ignoring the collar digging into their neck as they attempted to pull back, fear pitching their voice higher with every word. "Please." They repeated it feverishly, still futilely trying to get away from K's hand, and Elene knew exactly why. It terrified her to know that they knew to be afraid.

"You're sorry?"

"Yes," they breathed, eyes fixed on her hand.

"Good." K hummed, stepping back slightly, and they all let out a breath in time with Calyx.

Then she sent the punch forward anyway, and they all jumped and swore, all six of them, Calyx yelling with an anguish that made Elene feel like her heart was being ripped out. Tom had his hand covering his mouth, Amy stood up in a frenzy and was pacing, and Clem switched from a sword to their axe. Elene and Ada looked at each other in shocked horror, the only ones intimately aware of the electric sharp, white-hot pain coursing through Calyx's body. Their friend convulsed with it, restrained as they were, still attempting to move away but held by K's grip on their waist. Then, suddenly, they went limp, legs buckling - and Elene had never been so glad to see a friend pass out. At least the pain was over for a few moments. K chuckled darkly, speaking to - them, presumably.

"See? This is how it is. This is how this goes, okay? I hold the cards here, not you. Not any of you."

Clem spoke, furious. "Pick on someone your own fucking size, pick on someone who isn't powerless to stop you, and we'll see who holds the cards. Bitch."

Calyx stirred as K unchained the chain attached to the collar and to the manacles. Elene felt a surge in her heart - they were free, technically, was it over? - but K still held them, the action far too gentle. The collar and manacles remained, but Calyx's exhaustion seemed more and more evident. K leaned forward and whispered something they couldn't hear, to which Calyx made a choked sound, then they nodded sharply, winced, then half-fell to their knees, the impact audible.

"Fuck." Tom seemed beside himself with grief and anger, staring at the screen. They were all feeling it, and Elene put a hand on his leg, which he hardly even seemed to register.

"This is awful." She murmured, and when he turned to look at her, his eyes were red-rimmed.

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Ada nudged her leg, and Elene looked back at the screen. K had linked the collar to the wall with a shorter chain this time, so Calyx was wholly trapped on their knees in the middle of the stone room.

"Hands." Elene didn't understand it at first, but Calyx did. They didn't fight, didn't say a word, only raised their hands up for K to loop a chain around again.

K hit the side of their head once she'd finished, hard, and Calyx was knocked askew. They coughed once, twice, panic setting in, and Tom hissed at the screen.

"Bastard, they can't breathe!"

As if in response, though of course it wasn't, Cee held their breath for a few seconds, let it out slowly. Box breathing? Elene had taught them that, once.

"Where's all your fucking bravado now? I bet your friends would love to see you like this, taking your punishment like a good pet. Would be a shame if I - oh, forgot - to switch off that camera."

Calyx looked up sharply, speaking with a tight voice. "No."

"Yes."

K put a boot - steel capped - on Calyx's knee, leaning her body weight on it. Elene thought of the dotted bruises littering Clem's stomach after an unfortunate encounter with those boots, felt sick at the thought of imprints in their friend's thighs. Calyx looked at the camera as if they could see them on the other end, and Elene drew in a sharp breath at the eye contact. They looked so… defeated, eyes shifting down to stare at the boot as shivers ran through their whole body.

"No, oh. Please -"

"Please, what?"

Calyx's voice broke. "Please don't send this to them."

"Oh, kitten." K crouched down, nails once again digging into their neck, forcing eye contact. "I don't think you've been good enough to make demands like that. Won't they want to see you?"

"Not - not like this. I'm - I'm sorry. I won't fuck up, not again."

"Sure you won't. Thing is, I don't think you know your place properly. Who do you belong to, hm?"

Calyx made a soft noise, anguished and quiet. "I - I." They screwed up their face, unwilling to say it, and Tom clasped his hands together as if in prayer.

"Cee… it's okay. It's okay, starling. Oh, Calyx." His voice broke again, but this time, quiet sobs shook his body. No one could help him.

Calyx looked at the camera, up at their chains and back at K, expression searching and painfully sad, then sighed deeply, wincing slightly. Clem might have been right about those cracked ribs.

"Go on. Say it."

"I'm - sorry." They were breathing quickly, squeezing their eyes shut. "I - b- belong. To you."

Stunned horror rippled through the room. They were all frozen. Briefly, Elene thought that she must be dreaming. How could this be real?

K hummed, ignoring the tears starting to run down Calyx's face. "Wasn't so hard, hm?" Calyx stared at her, then shook their head no slowly, even as small sobs wracked their body.

Tom's hand twitched, and Elene knew he was itching to to wipe those tears away. She was too. Desperately, she just wanted to hold them.

"Oh, pet. You seemed so strong when your friends could see. Like you're still worth rescue, but they aren't coming to get you anyway, are they? You're nothing."

Anger raced through Elene's body. That was her little brother. Not true.

Calyx whined softly, the words seeming to hurt as much as their actual wounds. Then they nodded and sniffled, looking just for a moment at the camera. Elene wished it went both ways, wished she could just tell them how wrong K was, how much they were doing. It wasn't enough, even as Elene thought it through in her mind. Tom was hardly sleeping while they were missing, passing out anywhere that wasn't his bedroom, maybe she should be doing the same. They had to get them out of there.

"Are we done, do you think?"

Calyx was still for a moment, then spoke with a hoarse voice. "I - yes?" After a beat, they added, "please?"

"You've learnt your lesson?"

"Fuck." Clem put a hand to their forehead and the other to their stomach, and Elene felt similarly sick.

"God. Yes. Please just stop." Elene hadn't realised she'd been holding in a breath, till she heard Calyx talk in a more familiar register and let it out.

K's voice was strangely sing-song when she said, "okay," and got up, taking a step back towards the camera. Out of the corner of Elene's eye, Amy flinched back, and Clem moved to rest a hand on their shoulder.

"Just - one last thing," and Elene knew what was coming before it came, the solid kick to Cee's chest that shook their chains and left them winded and gasping for breath.

"How fun. I had fun, how about you, Calyx? We have fun together, don't we? We should do this again."

Calyx was still catching their breath, and in between gasps, spat out - "you know where to find me."

"Careful." Calyx shrunk back, bravery gone in an instant. "Should have you punished for that kind of snark."

"N- No. No. Sorry. Sorry, no I didn't - didn't mean it. I don't - I don't know what I was thinking. Sorry. Please."

"Shut up." The playing tone was gone, and Elene's blood went cold at the pure venom in K's voice. "Actually," K put the camera down again, facing Calyx's front this time, and they seemed to not want to look at it, eyes darting everywhere else. Then their eyes widened, and they shook the chains trapping their hands as K approached again, and went behind them, something in her hand.

"N- no, no, no, please don't - not that," Calyx broke off, a sob stopping their speech. They tried to move to look at K, but could hardly twist their head. "N- no. Please. I'll be quiet, I promise."

"Oh, I know you will."

Elene couldn't watch as K tied the cloth gag around her friend's mouth, couldn't stomach watching their eyes drift upwards to look anywhere other than the camera, could hardly breathe for the injustice of their freedom while Calyx, normally so full of life, was trapped like this. Tears flowed freely, from all of them, and behind the gag, Calyx made quiet, pained noises. Elene couldn't look away, but she knew that they were all crying.

K lifted the camera and forced Calyx to look into it, forced them all to watch and do nothing. It was killing them, every single one of them.

"Oh, Cee. Look at you. Your friends are better off without you. I'd tell you to thank me, but -" She laughed, high and clear and full of malice, and Elene had never wanted to kill someone more. Except maybe her mother, but this anger was white-hot fury, unclouded by fear.

"Well, that's all from us. What a fun reunion, hm?" The video ended, but the image of Calyx bound and gagged was branded into Elene's mind.

Ada seemed the same, motionlessly dissociating beside her on the couch. Tom slowly walked out of the room, and Amy sank down to the floor, a somehow horrified and blank expression on her face. They heard a crash from the kitchen, and none of them flinched. Elene distantly hoped that Tom had stuck to the plates they'd bought specifically for that purpose, but she really couldn't bring herself to care if he'd broken her wedding china. He came back after a few moments, glass pieces still in his hands, and apologised gruffly.

"It's all in the sink," he said quietly. "I'll clean up. Clem. You good to train?"

"Sure."

Clem leaned over and squeezed Elene and Ada's shoulders, and Elene turned to squeeze Clem's hand in return.

Amy spoke without looking at any of them. "No one else sees this," she said in a low tone. "Delete it, even. It wasn't even a fucking ransom note..." The last part seemed mostly to herself. In her shell-shocked state, Elene felt a pang of horror that the utility of the video was simply to show them that Calyx was suffering, and to mess with their head. What was going on in there?

Clem nodded sharply then gestured to Tom to follow them, and the two of them walked back to her armory. Elene heard one powerful thunk from Clem presumably attacking a practice dummy with all her pent-up fury. Clem was good at holding every single muscle tense in anger and letting it out in one fell swoop.

"What the fuck just happened?" Ada sounded as stunned as Elene felt.

A few feet away, Klaus lifted the orange cap off his head and scratched at his hair. “Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Mr. Oz looked at him. “What?”

“Y’know. Letting a subhuman carry a gun around.”

Subhuman, huh.

“Oh, please. He knows how to handle it, you heard him.”

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ worried about!” Klaus pulled the cap back on, flattening his hair to his forehead. “What if he decides to use it on us and start an uprising?” 

Port tensed as both sets of eyes landed on him. He hadn’t even thought about it until Klaus brought it up. It didn't sit right with him at all.

“Are you trying to give him ideas?” Mr. Oz laughed. “You’re not gonna try to kill us, are you?”

“Of course not, sir.” Port glanced between the both of them. “I’d get in real trouble for that.”

Mr. Oz laughed again. “See? It’s fine.”

Klaus threw his hands up. “Whatever. You’re the one who better watch his back. I’ve got my own gun.”

“Watch my back for you, maybe,” Mr. Oz said, turning to rummage for something in the backseat of the pickup truck.

Klaus shot Port a toothy smile. “We’re friends, right, Porter?”

Friends seemed generous. They weren’t equals, not even close. But it seemed to be what Klaus wanted to hear. “Yes, sir.”

Klaus patted him roughly on the back. “Alright! We’re gonna be best buds.”

~~~

The sun hadn’t yet risen, but the stars were starting to dim. They’d gotten a real early start today, leaving home around 4 AM to get to the spot before dawn.

“It’s slim pickin’s on public land,” Klaus had explained. “But my cousin owns a ranch out here and he’s given me and Parse permission to hunt for the past few years. I can tell ya we won’t be going home empty-handed.”

The grass brushed by his shins, curving under the weight of last night’s rain. He made his way through the field, carefully stepping around a film of fresh spiderweb beaded with pearly drops of dew. The hems of his jeans were well on their way to soaked already. The tips of his ears were a little cold.

He walked in step behind Mr. Oz, Klaus trailing close behind. It struck him how trusting his master was to turn his back on him when he had a weapon in his hands. He never even cast a glance over his shoulder. 

He could feel Klaus’ eyes on the back of his head, however, as they made for the tree line. “The stand is less than half a mile in,” Klaus said. “Keep your eyes peeled. We could run into game on the way.”

The trees had started dropping their leaves. The rain made them pliable— not too much crunch. Mr. Oz pushed past a low hanging branch and some water sprinkled on his head.

They came across a narrow creek that went as far as the eye could see in either direction. A few sticks floated in the current of the dark water. It stretched slightly too wide to simply step across, but could easily be jumped, Port thought.

“Damn,” Klaus said. “Our bridge fell in.” 

Port realized there were a few planks of wood barely sticking out of the water, slanted against the muddy bank on the opposite side.

“We can put it back up,” Mr. Oz said. “I’ll go first. Pass me the gun before you come over.”

“Yes, sir.” Port watched Mr. Oz take a small running start and bound rather ungracefully across the creek. He landed heavily in the dirt on the other side. Porter carefully transferred the rifle to him, standing right on the edge of the creek with both arms reaching over the running water. Mr. Oz turned to rest the rifle against the trunk of a tree as Port calculated his own jump.

Just as he was shifting his feet, there was a mighty shove against his back. He lost his balance, stepping forward into open air. He toppled over and landed on his knees in the water. His hands scraped the bank on the other side, catching stones and exposed roots.

Mr. Oz whirled around at the splash. “For fuck’s sake, Port.” 

Klaus was snickering behind him. “He just wanted to go for a swim.”

Port avoided looking at either of them. His face turned hot, even though it wasn’t really his fault. He stood, boots sinking into the muddy bottom. The water was shallow and slow-running— it barely went to his knees. But his bottom half was completely soaked, now. He blinked away dirty water that had splashed into his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said quietly to Mr. Oz as he made to climb out. Klaus was still chuckling. What was that about an uprising? he thought wryly. Guess Klaus felt safer now that the gun was out of his hands. Port would take the blame for falling— he wouldn't tell. Most people didn’t take kindly to snitching.

“Hold on,” Mr. Oz said. “You might as well fish out those planks while you’re in there.” 

Port aborted his ascent and obediently waded over to the planks. He lifted them out of the water, placing them across the creek as a makeshift bridge. They were rotting a little. Port wasn’t sure how much he’d trust stepping on them.

He climbed out as Klaus hopped across, shotgun slung on his back. Port was all waterlogged and dripping.

“You’re gonna get trench foot,” Mr. Oz said.

Port didn’t know what exactly ‘trench foot’ was but it was probably true. His socks were squelching with every step. 

“And trench dick,” Klaus added.

Mr. Oz raised his eyebrows. “That, too.”

~~~

It wasn’t too long before Port was able to spy the deer stand peeking through the gaps between the trees. It was a tiny wooden thing on stilts, right by the edge of a clearing. They went up the stairs single file, slats creaking with each heavy boot. Inside the little room was nearly too dark to see. What little natural light there was filtered in through the narrow cut-outs in the walls.

Pushed in the corner were two desk chairs on wheels. The fabric of the seats was dingy and pilling. Klaus went straight to one of them and sat down, resting his shotgun against the wall. 

Thankfully, Mr. Oz had spare pairs of socks and underwear in his backpack. “I always bring extras,” he mused as he pulled them out. “You never know when you might fall in a river. Or shit yourself.”

“It’s a good habit,” Port agreed, ignoring the last bit.

He went back outside to change, stepping through the stilts so he could stand directly under the room and have some sense of privacy. He didn’t like the idea of being watched.

He didn’t want to put his soaking pants back on, so he hung them on the X-shaped support to dry. He felt awkward all half-naked, but he figured it was better than being soggy. He took his jacket off and wrung out the wet part of his shirt as best he could. He shivered, cold and miserable, palms stinging with tiny cuts.

He went back into the deer stand, holding his jacket in front of himself in an attempt at modesty. Klaus spun around in his chair at his entrance. 

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed. “Do you always take your pants off on the first date?”

Port forced a smile. “Only if I’m wet enough.”

Klaus laughed really hard at that, and Mr. Oz pointedly looked away. “You’re gonna scare the damn deer off,” he muttered.

Port retreated into the corner of the room as Klaus got a hold of himself. “Hour after first light is prime time,” he said in Port’s direction. “I prefer the walk-and-stalk method. I get real bored sittin' in this thing.” He crossed his arms, thinking. “Whaddya say we try it out?”

Port blinked. “You and me?”

“Yeah. In an hour or so.”

Hiking alone in the woods with Klaus was not the most appealing idea to him. He looked to Mr. Oz for any indication of what to say.

Mr. Oz shrugged. “Go with him. It’ll be fun. I’m staying here, though.”

Port carefully did not make a face. “Yes, sir.”

Klaus smiled wide. “Great! I’ll get a little hunting buddy today. Not that you’re little, Port.” 

He smiled back politely. “A little too tall, maybe.”

Mr. Oz sighed forlornly, staring out into the clearing. “I’ve always wanted a hunting buddy. I tried to get my daughter into hunting, y’know, but she wasn’t interested at all. Wouldn’t even touch the gun.” He tugged his knit cap further over his ears. “She was always kind of a pussy.”

Klaus shared a look with Port, grimacing. Yeesh, he mouthed. Port pursed his lips and looked away. Nothing good ever came of his master thinking about his family. 

Mr. Oz was oblivious, busy in his brooding. “I was really excited when I had a son. I thought he would be more like me. I would’ve liked to take him out here, but…” he trailed off, jaw working.

Port was silent. Klaus was silent. Mr. Oz scowled at the both of them. “Whatever. Neither of you would know anything about that.”

Klaus scratched at his beard. “No siree. Kids sound like a pain in the ass to me.”

“Trust me, they are,” he said darkly.

They were silent for some time after that, keeping watch for wildlife. Port grew chiller by the minute now that he wasn’t moving around anymore, not to mention the starkness of his legs.

Movement outside caught his eye. He peered into the trees, leaves catching the early morning light. He didn’t spot it immediately, but as he squinted— there it was. A buck, two antlers spouting from its skull. Its head swiveled, trying to catch a scent.

“Sir,” he whispered. They both turned curiously. “Look.”

Mr. Oz saddled up beside him, quietly pulling his chair over. “Good eye,” he complimented. They watched the deer’s head dip, lipping at something in a bush. Port was entranced the sight. It was a shame they were supposed to kill it.

“Do you want to take it?” Mr. Oz asked.

Port’s brow furrowed. “Shoot it, you mean?”

“Yeah.” 

When was the last time he had looked at something through the scope of a rifle? What was the last thing he had killed? Something twinged behind his eye. He pressed at his temple with a few fingers, trying to soothe the ache. It was a bad idea to try and think about things from so long ago.

“I think you should,” Port decided.

Mr. Oz’s face flashed with disappointment. Port almost took it back, but Mr. Oz was already slowly setting the rifle on the ledge and peering through the scope himself.

It was a bad shot— the deer was at a weird angle. Mr. Oz stayed still, waiting for it to move. Port listened to the back-and-forth of birdsong in the meantime. The birds were all awake by now, whistling at each other. 

The deer took a few delicate steps forward, nibbling at the vegetation. Content in its own happiness, it bared its broad side to the gun.

Port held his breath as Mr. Oz adjusted the rifle, finger teasing at the trigger. Just then, a bright red cardinal flew out from somewhere within the trees and shot by the buck’s head. It startled, flinging its white tail up and leaping back into the bushes. 

Mr. Oz grunted, leaning back. “There’ll be more.”

⭑ next

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