Wild Rye Fields Just Don't Walk Away When I Say "Crush"

Just tired.

Dios mio, Cottongrass must think he was some kind of enormous idiot to believe that load of elk shit. That, or he really was too tired to consider any better excuse. The kid clearly wasn’t okay. Whether or not it was this Aytigin guy that was bothering the pale yearling, he had no idea, but something was definitely still eating the other wolf from the inside out. What was he supposed to do, though? If that were him, Reyes would have chewed someone’s snout off for pushing him any further when he wasn’t willingly offering information up.

The wolf leaned over, resuming his aggressive grooming for several silent moments as he tried to round up his thoughts. Did he want to fix it? Fuck yeah he did. Did he have any idea where to go when this failed? Nope.

Eventually, Reyes drew back. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Cotton. Bein’ an adult ain’t easy. Especially that social bullshit.” Little did Reyes know he’d soon be victim to his own inability to judge pack dynamics. But that was in the future (and he had no idea). His tail thumped once. “Look – I ain’t good at this shit, either. But if it ain’t better, you can tell me. Or we can just – run. Or wrestle. Or somethin’. That’s what I do, anyways.”

Being an adult wasn't easy. There was nothing in the whole entire world that was easy and Cottongrass was getting pretty sick of it. But he remained quiet. Because he didn't know what he wanted out of Reyes. The grooming was nice. And it didn't make him feel any better about what happened with Aytigin but maybe it didn't need to. He just needed to forgot. To move on and pretend it never happened in the first place. His ears perked up at Reyes' suggestions. Somewhere behind him his tail managed a few slow wags.

He glanced at Reyes with hopeful yellow eyes. Like he wasn't too sure if Reyes was being serious about any of the offers.

"Could we go exploring?" He finally asked. Running sounded nice but he felt lazy. And wrestling reminded him of everything he was trying to forget. He figured exploring was somewhere in the middle ground of those two options. "Just around Wild Rye Fields?" He added on for good measure. Like maybe he could extra convince his friend to go along. There were a few different landmarks he discovered by himself over the months. Maybe some of them would interest Reyes. And if they stayed out long enough they might even be able to catch sight of a few owls.

He pushed himself into a sitting position. His tail dragged even faster along the ground.

Thank fuck Cottongrass was up for something other than talking – Reyes was quickly running out of things to say. Things that sounded like he knew what he was talking about, anyways. Things that might actually be helpful. And for Cotton, that mattered; maybe if it was someone else, it didn’t matter that much. But it was Cotton, his weird little pale friend that was like, a younger brother, or something of that ilk. He wasn’t that interested in delving into it.

So the darker male stretched out in a low bow, relishing the pop and crack of muscles and joints before they were ready to set out together. “Yeah, that’s fine, Cotton. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find something interesting.” Something to eat, or a good chewing stick. (Or an antler, if they were really lucky. Or something to stash in the pack caches.)

But he shouldn’t get his hopes up, that was just asking to be let down. He nodded over his shoulder, bumping his side into his younger companion’s. “C’mon, chaco. Let’s get a move on.” Burn off all that angsty bullshit the only real way Reyes knew how.

Fin.