#.. bellamy misra

Sometimes –often– Talia found herself in need of a full removal from society. No people, not contact, just her and the great outdoors. With all that had happened lately, she was desperately in need of such a break. There were still a few good weeks left for fishing and she intended to take advantage of that while she could. Loading up on layers, snacks, and thermos of coffee, Talia made her way to one of the fishing spots she knew of that was slightly further off the beaten path. While she knew better than to leave her phone behind, she had silenced all the notifications and was looking to a few uninterrupted hours of alone time.

So of course, she had only been there about forty-five minutes when she heard a rustle in the nearby treeline. Someone walking. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in their scent or gait. Likely just a hiker trying to enjoy nature as much as she was. Talia allowed herself to relax, but still kept her eyes trained in the spot where the sound was coming from. You couldn’t be too careful – especially not in Wicked’s Rest.

—

Sleeping quietly in bed, Bellamy seemed at some sense of peace. But it never lasted. The longer this strange illness had continued, the less he was feeling more like himself in these moments. It was when he was home, all alone. Whatever dark part of him found it easy to take over. He couldn't fight it. Twitching, his hands moved to his chest as he slept, his face scrunching up a little, “No…-” Turning his head, his body moved, vague dark lines appeared beneath his skin as the night moved toward dawn. IT used these nights to exercise it's tendrils and toy with Bellamy's mind.

Suddenly, sitting up in bed. Bellamy winced, feeling groggy and shying away from the strands of sunlight peaking through his window's blacked-out blinds. He still needed to get better ones, “Ugh.” Pulling the blankets off his waist, he shifted, climbing out of bed. Getting ready for the day. Cleaning up for work, grabbing a quick breakfast bar, and off he went.

By the end of the day, hours later, he had walked back up to his house, coming to a stop. A sense of dread hits him. Exhaling, he made himself move into the house. Made himself put his work stuff away and change into something more comfortable. Ignoring, or perhaps even just not able to see the mess of goo and the smells of rot and sea around him. He, almost in a daze, moved about the house tending to things until deciding, “I need to get out of the house for a little bit. That's all.” He hadn't been on a hike in a while, so he decided he might do that.

Some time later, he was trekking down a path and feeling much more relaxed than he had been feeling at home. It was perhaps deception, though he could not even begin to realize this. Continuing to make his way through the hiking trail, he came up to the watery fishing spot nearby. He enjoyed some fishing and figured it might be a good idea to come do that. Though he was always into nature, anyway. Crouching, he reached a hand out toward some greens nearby, his right arm stuck under a beam of sunlight, “Hello friend.” He mumbled toward a bug that he had offered his index finger to, smiling at it as he watched the bug crawl onto it. He observed it with a pleasant expression on his face, “Soon it will be too cold for you, hhm?”

—

A stranger wandered near and Talia was almost immediately on edge. Not because of anything the other person did – just a learned reaction. She watched him for a moment, observing as he extended a hand toward one of the low-slung bushes near the edge of the clearing. Looked like he was making friends with a bug, from where she sat. That soothed some of her weariness away. She was usually cool with bugs – except for, of course, that horridly huge caterpillar she had encountered the other month. But that had been an outlier. Anyone who took the time to calmly hang out with a harmless insect was good, in Talia’s book.

His musing had been for the insect, clearly, but she couldn’t help but grin and respond. “Soon it’ll be too cold for all of us, I think.” It was already on the cusp of being too deep in the season for Talia to be fishing and she had taken care to bundle up appropriately. “I’m from pretty well north myself, but even I find these Maine temperatures intimidating. I think it’s the coast that adds some real frigidity.” 

She hoped the stranger didn’t mind her intrusion on his day. The fish weren’t doing all that much biting, for Talia, and she was usually happy to make at least a few minutes of small talk with others enjoying nature. As long as they weren’t being idiots about it, like she often encountered on the trails, at work. But this man didn’t seem the type, not if his careful attention to the bug he’d been transfixed by was anything to go on. 

She nodded to the insect in question, and asked, “Do you know what you’ve got there?” Talia couldn’t tell from the distance she was it, but it was likely that she would be able to identify it if the stranger was interested in learning.

—

Slowly moving his left hand, he let the moth walk along his fingers and back of his hand, enjoying the day as it was, even with the temperatures going down lately. He was never one to complain about, anyway. Though, still had his preferences, all the same. Bellamy enjoyed just watching things and experiencing them as they happened. It was a lot easier to be oneself when out in the woods and such in the like, by yourself. Easier, also, to befriend the life around it, outside of the human component. Which he often felt restricted by the human desire to control. As well as, himself was one to desire control. Adventures such as these allowed for all of that beholden to fall to the wayside. To allow him to just enjoy things as they happened.

When a voice spoke out about how it would be too cold for any, soon, he looked over, then up toward the other, nodding, “Yeah. Soon, it will.” Though being unaware, more or less, of the supernatural around him, Bellamy could still just conceptually understand that people froze when it got too cold. Of course! Not thinking of factoring that, perhaps, not all of them froze at the same rate, due to the fact that well, some were not humans. Some were able to transform into things with fur. Better equip them with protection against the coming cold. Grinning at Talia, the moth continued crawling over his hand, listening still as she spoke, “You are? I'm from further south, but the winters can be nasty.”

“It certainly contributes to it, at times, you can be sure of that. Ocean's often colder than you can imagine. Especially the farther out you get in it.” He nodded, adding the little factoid. Stretching out his fingers on his left hand out, slowly moving them for the moth to walk along. At the question of what was crawling on him, he nodded weakly, “Yeah. Male. I'd suppose. Moth. The females are probably losing their wings by now.” He supposed. His eyes moved to the moth and then to Talia, “What kind of moth would you say it is?” He offered to let

—

Talia nodded at the prompt, gesturing vaguely Westward. “Montana, in fact.” This would be her third winter away from the mountains of her packland and while it had gotten much easier, she still missed it. The familiar terrain and predictable weather. Snowfall and sunny, crisp mornings. Mist on the lakes as it crept closer and closer to spring. The winter animals with their thick coats faded to white gathering food and den material. Maine felt similar, in a lot of ways, but different in just as many.

“Whereabouts South?” she asked. Maybe it was along the Appalachian line, like where Daniel and Hazel were from. Or further South, deeper, into the bayou, like Wyatt. Or trailing west into the hazy Ozark mountains, where she had met Jacob and his ragtag pack. For someone who had only left Montana a year and some change ago to settle in Maine, Talia did have quite a few relics of the Southern region of the country in her life these days. Maybe this stranger would be another one.

At the invitation, Talia rose and took a few steps closer. Despite the danger that could lurk in Wicked’s Rest, she didn’t get the sense that he would be anything to worry about. There was something…strange about the scent of him. Or maybe it was the feel of the air around him? Talia couldn’t tell. If he was a hunter, or something else that could cause trouble, she was more or less sure of her ability to defend herself. At the moment, she just took a better look at the moth that was perched on his hand. “Gotta be a Winter Moth, this late. Everything else is overwintering, I think.” While Maine flora and fauna didn’t come as naturally to Talia as Montana’s, she had been with the State Park for nearly a year now. There were a few more common visitors that she was familiar with. And the Winter Moth, invasive nuisance that it was having come in off the coast, was one of them. 

“Are you interested in all insects?” Talia asked, eyes still locked on the winged creature. “Or is it just moths?”

—

“Montana, huh? Never hear much out of that place.” He grinned weakly. Though he had been to quite a few places growing up, he didn't currently remember if he had ever been there. If it was, it was perhaps very brief, due to his being shuffled about when he was younger. Bellamy rested his head in his right hand, grinning as he watched the bug crawl on his left hand, wondering if he had put too much lotion on before coming out here. Hoping it wasn't too much for the guy. It didn't seem to be eating any of it, though, so he didn't stop it from crawling for now. After another moment or so, he looked up, looking out toward the water nearby, supposing that's why the moth was still out and about.

At the question of where South he had come from, “Well, not much South. It's more of a barrier between the Midwest to the South. But you have a pretty big mix of both. I got a more midwestern-southern exposure where I lived.” He nodded, “So, the Ozarks were pretty close.” He looked to one side, his accent even had a bit of both in it, even though he often did hide it, he wasn't so much at the moment, “Really pretty, where I'd come from. But I could never go back there.” He then muttered. His caregivers were most likely still out there.

Turning his hand over with the moths, wondering, he mused a bit more before again nodding his head at Talia's answer, “You'd be right.” He flexed his fingers, letting the moth crawl around them, listening to her go on with the conversation, “Oh. I might have a particular interest specifically in moths, sure. But I do have an interest in all insects, yes. And more than just moths. I'm always wanting to learn… about things. Everything. Though not possible, of course. I'm no computer. But it doesn't hurt to try.” Or perhaps that was the remaining remnants of being raised to be one by his caretakers. Whatever the case, it brought him joy, and that's the important part. Not the bad part about being home and falling into…worse patterns of thought, kept just to himself.

—

No, you certainly did not. Talia just gave an amused little huff, tilting her head to indicate that she agreed. She couldn’t say whether the pack had chosen Montana for how easy it was to keep isolated there. They had apparently been there for generations, though. Either way, in her travels across the country, she hadn’t met anyone else from her state yet. And even if she had… There was a strange disconnect from Montana itself. The pact had operated like its own community with its own culture. Someone who had grown up in, say, Billing, likely had a vastly different idea of Montana than Talia.

When he explained he was from a barrier between the Midwest and the South, Talia guessed either Missouri, Oklahoma, or Kansas. Those were all close to the Ozarks too – but she didn’t mind not knowing the exact answer, especially when he expressed that he wouldn’t be going back. “I can definitely understand that.” His story was his own, of course, but Talia wasn’t looking to venture back to her packlands anytime soon either. That didn’t immediately make him a kindred spirit, but she could admit she softened around the “facing the world on their own” types.

“Well, insects are a pretty worthy subject.” Talia took another few steps closer, admiring the beauty of the little creature on his hand. She could just imagine the rant Daniel might have against the bug, though. He had something of a vendetta against invasive species. “I’m a park ranger here in Wicked’s Rest, actually. So I love when people take it upon themselves to learn about the environment around them.” And then, realizing she had yet to give her name, she offered, “I’m Talia, by the way.” Going on, she added, “I had a pretty limited education, so I’ve always been interested in learning independently, too.”

—

As the woman had stood quietly, Bellamy did too, crouched where he had been still as she had arrived. He didn't much like this quiet, but had nothing to say to any of it, unfortunately. Bellamy instead focused his internal monologue toward the bug friend he was currently hosting walking space to on his arm. He supposed that it might have been his fault in the end, as he always thought it was he who needed to say something to keep things going. Sometimes running into a problem of never getting responses if he never said anything at all again. Even on the days he really didn't want to say anything at all.

When the conversation continued, he nodded, grinning a bit, “Not because of the place itself.” He clarified, still, then, looking to Talia, he moved to rest his head in his other hand, “Guess a lot of people could understand that. Maybe many, even more, can understand that you can love a place, but not desire to go back to it, for other reasons.” He supposed that was unfair to Kansas, it wasn't Kansas' fault his caretakers remained there, and it had been the sole reason he could not go back. But, he had a connection to here, too, his parents had lived here in their own youth, and so, he had plenty he could discover here.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows as she spoke on insects being worthy subjects, “They are!” He smiled then, tilting his head slightly. Though as she spoke about being a park ranger, he connected it to the very same person he spoke to online from time to time, only because they were the only other person who had ever talked to him about being a park ranger before. But, he didn't say anything, because many people could be a park ranger, and he could have just been trying to place a connection somewhere it didn't belong, “Oh? It must be a really cool job!” He paused for a moment, considering what she said, and then spoke again, “I just really like to learn, but I agree with that too, familiarizing yourself with where you are can be so helpful.”

“Talia? I'm Bellamy. It's very nice to meet you. The universe spontaneously placed us in each other's path for a reason, though, maybe.” He offered playfully. Listening, however, as she spoke of her education, he nodded, “My whole life before moving here was full of education. There was hardly any time to play.” No time at all, really. Bellamy was quiet for a moment before asking, “What is one thing you are learning right now?”

—

Bellamy spoke up almost immediately to agree about insects and Talia couldn’t help but smile. She knew that wasn’t necessarily a widely-held belief – the thought that insects were scary or icky was far more common. She could understand that point of view but given how vital insects were to the ecosystem, Talia had long held a deep appreciation for all things creepy and crawly. (Not to mention, it was hard not to be accustomed to bugs when you spent a portion of your life as a furred animal that rolled around in dirt and leaf litter.)

“Good to meet you as well, Bellamy.” Talia didn’t really subscribe to those ideas about the universe and destiny and all that (her pack did love to talk about how fated they were to succeed in their mission) but she didn’t begrudge him for thinking or saying so. It was nice, maybe, for someone else to believe it about their encounter with her. “Let’s hope it’s a good reason,” she joked, sparing a wink. “Really? Are you some kinda genius?” Unbidden, the montage of Elle Woods studying for her LSAT in Legally Blonde came to mind: all education and no play. 

The question took her off guard, but delighted her. Enough that Talia stopped and thought, gave her answer some real consideration. She was learning about the end-of-season fish population here in Maine. She was learning about the frequency of hikers out on this particular path, about the chill of a late-autumn, Maine midday. Plenty about her new friend Bellamy. And how to be alone with herself – something she had been steadily learning for the past ten years or more. Maybe one day she would master it. “I think I’m learning that an interruption to a plan isn’t always a bad thing.” Her plan that day had been to completely hide out from all interaction and just bask in nature. But Bellamy had come along and she had found that she didn’t mind the interruption.

—

Humming at her comment, Bellamy turned his hand over a bit, letting the moth move as it liked along his hand. He then glances to one side as Talia continued, then looked back, “Of course.” Bellamy cleared his throat and listened still, before giving a couple of steep nods and saying, “I suppose it could be said that I am.” Though he didn't often feel like it. He still had moments, many moments, where he felt entirely ignorant, even stupid. But, he was, he supposed, just awkward and odd.

It was easy to forget that just because he might have had a high IQ, it didn't mean he was better at using that IQ. Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe it was just a moment between one or the other at any given time, to imagine he was a genius or the village idiot he regularly felt like. He closed his eyes, feeling a weird rush of feeling. These thoughts were not something he wanted to focus on, yet lately, they seemed to always come. Bellamy exhaled, dropping his head a little. A despair was washing over him that he did not ask for or want. Many of his worst memories flood his mind.

He had to distract himself again. Staring toward the moth once more, he shoved that feeling down, the dizziness that had come with it easing a bit. Staying like that for a time, his face had become slightly paler with the feeling that washed over him so quickly, but he steeled himself to it. Listening once again when Talia was talking, he smiled up toward her as if nothing were wrong, “Ah. That's good.” Silent for a second or two, he thinks quietly, then continues, “Probably better, at times, to do it that way. We might find more in an interrupted path than one we were planning.”

—

It was refreshing to see someone handle a part of nature, especially an insect, with such reverent care. Usually Talia was rushing to tell people not to kill an insect just because it had dared to touch them – when they were the ones who had put themselves out in the insect’s home environment. Moths tended to incite either a similar reaction to spiders, or a morbid fascination. All she saw was an essential part of any ecosystem – although, that was a little more nuanced when it came to the invasive Winter Moth. And, in fact: “It’s best to cull these guys, unfortunately. They can do real damage to the trees.” There weren’t any protective measures added to the trees near them at the moment, but Talia made a mental note to look into it. Either way, she wasn’t on duty at the moment. She could let Bellamy have a moment of peace with a bug.

Especially when it seemed that he was having a bit of a rough time. Talia watched as his whole body seemed to sink under some invisible weight. Her head cocked but she didn’t say anything, just let him move through the moment. When Bellmay did look back up at her, it was clear he was doing his best to show that nothing was wrong. She would let him have that dignity then. Smiling in return, she offered, “It’s taken awhile, but I’m actively trying to get better at leaving things up to chance, more. I used to be big into fate. Not so much, any longer.”