Moving Forward

Wolves (8)

They dropped Lara off first, along with half of all the cherries they'd picked and a promise that she'd return with cherry pies by Wednesday. In the car, Max and River both kept quiet, Max chewing on the occasional cherry and spitting the pit out of the window.

River snorted when he noticed. "Doesn't that count as littering?"

"No?" Max answered, slightly startled. "They're completely biodegradable and I don't think they're poisonous to anything. It's not like I'm chucking a plastic bag out there."

"Oh... okay then." River returned to driving.

River's tires kicked pebbles up, making Max cringe slightly. His own truck was alright to damage, River's was a different matter.

"Would you..." Max started, soft voice carrying in the quiet car. "Would you like to come in... for coffee?"

After a moment, River nodded at Max's invitation.

Inside, Max watched River make his way to the living room sofa, before heading into the kitchen to turn the kettle on. It felt... routine. Like this was a common between the two of them, even though, reasonably, Max knew it'd only happened a couple of times.

Strolling into the living room, Max changed his mind. "Do you mind if we sit on the porch?" He suggested. "It's still nice out."

River didn't voice his compliance, but stood to follow Max.

"You don't have a table. Or chairs." River noted.

"Sorry," Max shrugged. "I kept meaning to buy some but the blankets came out and after a week of using them, I completely forgot." He looked up and reached out to take River's mug. "Do you mind?"

River shook his head, lowering himself gently into the pile. "I might spill my drink."

"I don't mind. I have a washing machine."

"I still think it's kinda weird that you choose not to use the chairs." River muttered.

Max snorted. "Good for y-"

The smile in River's eyes halted him. "It is comfortable though."

"Y-yeah." Max managed. If he said anything else, he'd be a stuttering mess.

They looked different with a smile in them. No longer the bottomless pits that he found himself falling in, they'd become gentle, rippling pools that Max wanted to submerge himself into. Warmth and comfort and stability: everything Max looked for - wanted in - his life.

Still bottomless but no longer threatening.

Beautiful bottomless brown eyes.

"Are you okay?" River's voice caught him. "You're staring."

Max nodded. "It's because you're so weird-looking." The words felt awkward on his tongue, like he was trying to figure out how to form coherent sentences all over again.

"What are you, twelve?" River's chuckle was contagious, and after a moment, Max joined the laughter. It really was the retort of a twelve year-old wasn't it? Max only laughed harder.

And then River stopped. Alarm was written across his face with wide eyes and lips so tight they'd turned white. The breeze shifted; the scent of wolf was blown directly into Max's face.

River stood, gave one of those fake smiles that made Max grimace on the inside. "Stay here for a moment, I think you might have a wolf problem."

But... how did River know? He was human. Humans wouldn't be able to smell the wolf. Before Max could ask, River had loped off into the woods.