#ppduo

The flames licked against it feebly, slow to catch, and Ranboo blew on it gently, then sighed. Fine. He’d go. He never loosened his coat, nor his scarf, it would be a stupid thing to do, but as he braced to leave the tentative warmth he tried to draw his scarf and coat yet tighter still. Okay. Just. Out to the woods, real quick, then back in with more firewood. Okay.

Cold cold cold cold cold! Why was the world so cold! Why did the black clouds hang heavy and pregnant with snow that never fell! Why did the forest grow at such haunting speeds, and drop their branches about the forest floor like they were aiming for his head!?

Arms loaded with dead wood, Ranboo scuttled back to the room and shut the door with a loud bang. He sighed, licked his chapped lips in vain, and started stacking wood over the fire. He tried to keep the fire low, the room just barely tolerable instead of actually warm, to keep him from needing to make too many trips out.

He’d just sat himself down when the door swung open, an extremely large man pushing through. Ranboo jolted, but the man didn’t say anything, just shut the door and collapsed as close to the fire as he could get without the flames catching on his clothes or hair.

Ranboo examined him openly, the man examined him back out of the corner of his eye. He had a pig’s legs and ears, but otherwise human features. The mutation was likely what had saved him, during the end of the world, much like Ranboo’s mutation had saved him—not that he remembered much, from that time. He was young enough he didn’t really remember the world from before. Just bits and pieces, occasional snatches, and the vague feeling that life had once been something better.

The pig man was shivering violently.

Ranboo… Ranboo slowly reached out and locked fingers around a heavy branch, and without looking away from the stranger he broke it over one knee and tossed a piece of it into the flames. He repeated the process until the branch was entirely segmented and entirely on the fire. He could—He mentally sighed: he could just go get more firewood later.

“Thank you,” the stranger whispered, so soft and quiet Ranboo could barely hear him over the crackling fire.

“Mm,” he grunt-hummed in return, and Ranboo did not look away but the man shuffled backwards, just a little, seemed to watch Ranboo a bit less acutely.

Ranboo watched him look around the firelit room. Traces that Ranboo had been living there, that this was his territory. Ranboo was smaller and skinnier than the stranger, but he was warmer and had been for what he guessed was a good long while. If it came to a fight, Ranboo couldn’t say which one of them would win. He hoped it wouldn’t! He very much hoped that it would not come to that. He did not enjoy fighting! But if the stranger decided he wanted the little room for himself, Ranboo would defend what was his.

Worst case scenario: they fight.

Best case scenario: the stranger warms himself and then leaves and Ranboo never sees or hears of him again, and this night goes down in the mud and the muddle of his memory to be lost alongside everything else.

Mediumest case scenario: “I can make traps.”

Ranboo blinked, processing that. He was… not familiar, with conversation, admittedly. He’d been alone for long enough he was out of practice.

“Mm?”

“I can make traps. Snare rabbits, lizards, some birds.”

That would be useful indeed. Rabbits in the apocalypse had mutated to the size of old world corgis (the large breeds could get as big as a mastiff, but Ranboo had fled the lands he’d seen those in years ago). Their meat would make for a good meal and a sizeable pile of jerky. Bird meat, too, if he could kill the birds without getting too torn up by their teeth. Ranboo glanced at his little metal jar that held what remained of his current food supply.

“Meat would be nice,” he agreed, his voice hoarse with disuse, some of the softer sounds not coming out right, lost to the pipework of his throat. Fur would be nice, too, his feet and hands were always cold despite his socks and mittens, and he’d love a better hat. If they caught enough rabbits, maybe even a second coat. Scales had uses, feathers did too. Traps would be useful.

The stranger released a breath he’d been holding, and oh. Oh. Yes. Ranboo had just agreed to let him stay. Ranboo’s tail flicked behind him, thwapping twice against the floor. He uh. He guessed he had a new roommate, now. If they were going to trap rabbits and birds and lizards together. And if they were going to warm themselves by the same fire.

“I’m—” he cleared his throat, “I’m Ranboo.”

The stranger seemed vaguely surprised by Ranboo’s willingness to share his name, and perhaps just as easily his home.

Well. Ranboo was lonely. He couldn’t be blamed for that.