#chp6

Yuuri would apologise for not making much progress with his investigations, citing his responsibilities as a hunter as cause for the slowness of his reading. Vitya had been a little confused by the lack of information, pushing Yuuri to find out more, to search deeper. Until, one dull morning, Yuuri had arrived in the clearing, exhausted and blinking owlishly through a sleepless haze, his footfalls heavy and his eyelids heavier. Vitya had sent him home, badgering the hunter until he relented and turned back, and resolved to go a little easier on Yuuri in future.

Makka joins them on their explorations more often than not, fluttering ahead of the pair and chittering at them when she finds something interesting. Yuuri seems to be enamoured with the little pixie, he brings her plums and lychee, which she gobbles at an alarming rate. She often ends the day with her tiny stomach too full to fly and using either Vitya or Yuuri’s shoulders to ride on.

The walks were mostly silent to begin with, tempered with unfamiliarity and edged with a razor focus on the forest around them. Soon they began to talk, about the trees, about plants, about Yuuri’s latest hunts. Yuuri would describe his hunts in vivid detail, unfailingly modest about his talent for the bow that was ever present across his shoulder.

Yuuri would ask Vitya questions, sometimes, he would quietly ask about the paths they trod and the history of the forest. Never pushing, but always curious about every aspect of Nyéraldë.

Yuuri never asked about the other elves, and never asked about Vitya himself. It left Vitya in the strange position of wanting to share, wanting to tell the hunter about himself and his days in the forest.

It was one such day, the sun high over the eaves, that Yuuri was trailing ahead of Vitya with Makka beside him. The pixie was chirping at Yuuri, circling him and trying to get to his pockets to find whatever fruits she could smell that had her so excited. Yuuri laughs fondly at Makkas antics, his eyes warm and smile radiant as he teases the pixie with the small plum he'd stashed for her. Vitya loved seeing them interact, loved the rapport they’ve built up. Yuuri relents in his teasing of the pixie, allowing her to tug the plum from his grip and laughing happily when she sticks her tongue out at him.

“She really likes you.” Vitya isn’t sure what prompts him to say it, but it’s true. Yuuri seems startled that Vitya had been watching them, he looks a little embarrassed at being caught in the act of being playful with the pixie.

“Sorry, I was just -”

“No, no! It’s nice to see her so happy!” Vitya rushes to reassure the hunter. “I’m sure she gets bored with just me for company so it’s nice to see her playing…” There’s a pause, a moment where a questions hangs between them. Vitya can see the way Yuuri’s expression turns, more thoughtful and introspective than it had been.

“Vitya, what happ-” Yuuri tries, he starts the question that Vitya doesn’t feel ready to answer. He’s interrupted by the sound of a small cough, a spluttered thing that turns into a choking. Yuuri frowns, looking for the source of the noise.

Vitya finds it first.

Makkachin, who had been buried in the joy of stuffing her face with the plum, juices dripping from her fingers as she pierced on a tree root was slowly turning pink. Her tiny eyes wide and expression panicked as she coughed around the obstruction in her throat.

Makka is choking around the pit of the plum, turning shades darker as Vitya watches helplessly.

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