Tortoise and Fox [BL]

3.9

"That rose is lackluster beside the face of otherworldly beauty."

This is the story of the most powerful vampire in the world–who could rule over humans in permanent darkness if she so desired. Her mortal enemy, the ruling pack leader of all werewolves–waged war over the deaths of several pack members. Even the intermediary fox spirit could not calm them, nor solve the mystery of their deaths, unable to stop both sides from crumbling under hatred. And in the end, when both sides were decimated, only the fox spirit remained, alone.

Birds chirped serene, unhurried songs as the constant rustling of forestry blanketed the outdoors. The sun had rapidly begun to set, only traces of watercolor oranges and pinks melting away into a pitch darkness.

Elijah sat within the gazebo, looking up above at the arches towering over him, overshadowing his bulky, chitin shell of dark greens. He blinked with slow movements. The beams shuddered, creaking with the faintest breeze. They were composed of knotted and withered wood, hugged by the twisted vines that curled between the connecting infrastructure and hung above the entrance; the dark oak roof slanted forward from the weight. The entire structure that Elijah and Alyssa sat in prior began to dangerously sway; the winds picked up with a wild thrash.

Before Elijah could process, his vision darkened, and the dulled sensation of textured planks was replaced. His head rested comfortably against a firm surface while sitting up. The fire crackled with little snaps and shifting crunches. Breaths exhaled evenly beside his ear. A soft weight pressed against his lap, soft fur pressed against his palm, tufts rubbing between his fingertips.

Elijah went stiff, opening his eyes to realize his slanted, hunched posture. His full weight leaned against Aisultan's side; Elijah's temple pressed against his shoulder. Pages of a book turned with every extended moment with one hand, the other out of Elijah's peripheral and fiddling with a necklace that made a metallic jingle. A fluffy, white tail limply wrapped around Elijah and atop his lap–fur tussled through his hands.

Sensing the sudden jerking movement, Aisultan stopped mid page turn and said, "Eli? Have you awoken?"

Elijah's thoughts were in disarray. He composed himself with a few blinks, sitting up. The rustling of their clothes filled the silent seconds. A warmth unfamiliar to Elijah lit his cheeks ablaze, all the way down to his neck.

"I am Elijah. We have swapped."

"Would you like to get up?"

Elijah stared blankly at the puffy fox tail layered with fur smoother and softer than silk.

"...Yes."

The tail unfurled and the blanketed weight disappeared. It left Elijah's lap with a lingering warmth and a regretful emptiness–he pushed away the offhanded thought upon standing up. Aisultan closed his book also, ears swiveling and alert.

"The journal Eli was writing in is atop the tableside. He finished it before falling asleep–for some reason I found myself surprised. It slipped my mind that vampires' active hours were not during daylight, seeing how active Alyssa and he are."

"Yes, our normal hours of combined rest have been interrupted for a few days now, with all the preparations going on." Elijah touched his darkening eye bags before sighing with a resigned expression. He reached over to his journal.

He thumbed through the messy pages until he stopped at the most recent entry. Elijah's expression remained unchanged, only looking up once he finished. He met Aisultan's gaze with a slightly taken aback version of his own; Aisultan hadn't turned away from Elijah, amber eyes swirling with activity.