Sunrise Ridge i want it that way

For @Cottongrass only. Backdated to 7/18 - Ayti left HR on 7/16 and will return on 7/20

RE - Aytigin, during your dig you uncovered a fallen --and active-- bee's nest. They're not happy!
(Twisting the RE just a bit. You'll see.)

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Perhaps it wasn't the best time to leave the River on a short trip to find Cottongrass, but he couldn't just leave the white-furred young man alone any longer. His behavior in the Ethos had bumfuzzled the dark wolf to no end; what had gone wrong? What had he done to warrant such actions? Ayti didn't doubt that he'd done something wrong - he was good at screwing everything up. His life had just been a long, endless chain of himself screwing everything good in it to high hell.

The gash on his temple had healed, though there was still pinkish gray skin showing from under the fur. He didn't know if it would scar or not, but that was inconsequential. He didn't really care. The butterflies and warmth in his chest that Cotton conjured overwhelmed the minor physical pain that the blow had caused, and he didn't want their relationship - whatever-it-was - to be ruined just because of one mistake that he himself had caused.

A bit over halfway to the Fields, he stopped for a short rest. The pines around him were nice enough, and provided a bit of shade. Not that it wasn't shady enough with the fog around them, but Ayti was covered in dark fur which seemed to absorb every bit of heat that had ever existed.

But he was anxious and couldn't just sit there for long. Especially when a chipmunk raced right in front of him. Naturally, he had to chase after it. His paws thumped against the ground and the chipmunk managed to evade his grasp - surprise, surprise - and hide underneath a bush on the edge of the pines. The mocha-furred man went after it, however, but he was not as small as the chipmunk, and could not avoid the safety hazard beneath the undergrowth.

He caught the scent of honey and heard the humming of bees just a heartbeat too late, and suddenly his entire muzzle was shoved into a fallen beehive. Hazel eyes shot wide open and he leaped backward, shaking his head hard to dislodge the hive before it was too late. He received a couple of stings on his nose before he could free himself from the deathtrap, but was instantly swarmed by several dozen pissed-off honeybees. Yelping sharply, the dark wolf shook his pelt and looked around wildly, trying to find somewhere he might be able to go to rid himself of his attackers.

A sting or two later, he decided to simply sprint off in a random direction, hoping to run into some water to dive into.

Held snug between his jaws just might have been the world's saddest bouquet of flowers to ever exist. Once vibrant petals had faded and wrinkled in the passing days that were full of obsessive holding and the unacknowledged tick of grinding teeth in anxiety. Even the firm stem was nothing more than a sad green stick of mushiness that he forced himself to bite down on. The bitter taste of the plant lingered even after all the abuse. It was as good as dead. But he couldn't bring himself to put the cursed flower down, not even after the hours he spent agonizing over whether or not it was a good idea to really do this.

The yellow petals reminded him of Aytigin's eyes. It was that lone thought that kept the flowers a prisoner between his teeth even when they were nothing more than a sad resemblance to the plant's original state. He wanted to ditch them. And maybe he could find news ones when he got closer to Hearthwood River. But that seemed like cheating. Like the apology would have less meaning when he just went and replaced the gift when the old one broke. It probably also had something to do with the fact that he had spent an entire day looking for the plants in the first place. He also spent several days wracked with obsessive worrying while never once just eating the damn things and pretending nothing ever happened between him and his friend.

He bit the man! Sunk his pointed teeth into tender flesh and chomped down harder when he got the reaction he wanted. Aytigin had been bleeding. And when he finally came to and realized what had happened — he had ran away crying. It was a mess! A horrible mess and he really wanted to either drown himself in shallow water or disappear with the hopes of never returning. But the guilt was too much. It was a weight that plagued him with every step and grew stronger with each passing second.

If he didn't do something he knew that it would consume him whole from the inside out.

And he didn't want that.

Not even when he was on the verge of breakdown. Because he wasn't a puppy anymore. He was a grown wolf that had a pack that was starting to mean something to him and plenty of friends that actually liked him back. Like hell was he giving that all up. Even if it meant facing his fears and apologizing to a wolf he felt nothing but pure ambivalence for. It all made his head hurt and he probably deserved the pain. But today wasn't about pitying him. It was about pitying Aytigin Delaney or something like that.

With a pained whimper he finally stumbled to a halt. And a part of him knew that he was at least half way to Hearthwood River. That if he kept on marching through the night he would pass through a familiar clearing and finally into a forest of towering redwood. He was scared. His paws wouldn't stop itching and he felt like vomiting or something just to get the crawling sensation out of his stomach. But he needed to apologize.

The flowers were an unbearable weight between his teeth. He decided to give himself a few seconds of self-pity before forcing himself to move on. And when he stooped over the drop the ugly things onto the forest floor it was like a weight leaving his body. One that he so desperately needed gone even if everything was just inside of his head. But the moment didn't last long. Because moments before he could think of picking the flowers back up — before he could fully convince himself to continue his march northeast — there was a rustling. A loud rustling that was followed by the distinct thundering of panicked paws and the faintest of humming.

It was all heading right towards him and it was getting louder.

He was given less than a second before the familiar features of Aytigin Delaney manifested from the brush and the man's entire body followed suit. It was like the magpies all over again but already so much more worse. "Bees!" He yelped, scrambling backwards on uncooperative paws while the other wolf simply continued to sprint forward. There was buzzing. Oh god there was so much buzzing. It was in his ears and in his temples. Drowning out even his own voice and thoughts with the unrelenting hum.

He couldn't move fast enough. Not even when there was panic and adrenaline and a thousand other screaming emotions flowing through his veins and demanding release. This was already nothing like what happened with Otter all those weeks ago by the lake. His paws scraped against dirt and for a few awkward seconds he could only flail. Until finally — finally! — he got his bearings and bolted off in the direction of Aytigin.

"Run faster!" He barked, brushing by the man and more than prepared to leave him behind in the dust.

Screw the flowers. Screw the apology. And screw Aytigin Delaney's lovable face for still being perfect even when bees were taking over the earth.

It was like everything in the world had disappeared and was now replaced with bees. The grass was bees. The sky was bees. The trees were bees. The air was bees. Aytigin himself was bees. He didn't really have a direction that he was heading in, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that he was completely intent on getting the hell out of bee town.

Miserably, in a moment of pure and utter self-pity as he received yet another sting behind an ear, he wondered if this was the end of him. If he would die in agony, swarmed by bees. Perhaps it was some kind of recompense for his previous transgressions. For abandoning his dam and the gypsies. For never, ever telling anyone since his mother 'I love you.' For screwing every girl (and some guys) that ever crossed his path. For starting arguments, for letting his tongue slip, for flirting with everyone, for... well, for everything he'd ever done in his entire life.

But then he burst through some bushes and recognized the white puffball instantaneously. He always seemed to run into Cottongrass at random times, right when he needed the snow-pelted wolf the most. The bees immediately came second to being in the snowball's presence, and his tail started to wag regardless of the fact that he was running and getting stung. In fact, he would've forgot about his assailants altogether if Cottongrass hadn't cried, 'Bees!' and urged him to speed up whilst running past him.

Aytigin wasn't a fast runner by any means, but he tried to keep up with the snowy boy as best as he could. By that point the bees had been put on the backburner. While they were still pretty important - because not being stung was kind of good - Cottongrass was infinitely more so.

"Cotton!" he called, still sprinting full-out beside the younger man. "I was coming to find you!" If the bees were his punishment, then the pure white wolf was his salvation. Because suddenly the stings didn't hurt quite so bad and his chest felt warm instead of terrified. "I wanted to say I was sorry!"

And, because he was blessedly thinking clearer now, he decided to take advantage of the sloping hill to their right. He leaped at Cotton, fully intending to bodyslam him into tumbling down the decline - and hopefully grab his scruff so that he would be able to control the fall so that he would be the one taking the brunt of the impact instead of the snowball.

Aytigin Delaney was talking.

The only thought running through his panicked mind was why the hell was he talking? Bees were stinging their behinds and gaining on them yet the other man still had the nerve to open his big mouth and flap his tongue. Who said he could do that!? Especially when Cottongrass had spent whole entire days worrying and obsessing before finally gathering the courage to make the first move. He had brought flowers! They were chewed to all hell and forgotten in the dust but it was the thought that counted!

But apparently Aytigin Delaney was a man of absolute perfection in every sense of the word. Because even when murderous bees were attacking he still found the time to be the better man. In that moment he wanted to hate the other wolf. Wanted to do nothing more than reach over and bite at one of the long legs in hopes of tripping him. It was so unlike him it was scary. And he was tempted to start yelling. To let the emotions running through his veins free because he wasn't ready. He probably never would be ready for someone like Aytigin and it was tearing him apart faster than he could ever expect.

Out of pure spite he started running faster. Because he wanted to bolt to the side and never return. The whites of his eyes flashed in annoyance and he could only glower at the man running in his peripherals. There was something bubbling under his skin again. He knew it was the same emotions that had brought him to reach out and bite all those days ago. And he wasn't a puppy. He was supposed to be beyond the days of biting when frustrated.

Except he really couldn't help it. Not when there were bees ripping into his skin and Aytigin Delaney ripping into his heart.

His jaws parted and he veered close as if gravity were bringing them together. And maybe it was but who really knew at this point. He drew in a deep breath and with a blur of pure noise racing through his mind —

Let out an absolutely pitiful and high-pitched yelp. Because there was weight boring down against him and there was pressure against the back of his neck. The ground was swooping up at him faster than he could ever imagine and oh god. He was falling. Falling to the ground and this was how he died. Sacrificed to a million angry bees by none other than Aytigin Delaney. He wondered if this was all his bad luck mounting to an all new high.

Seconds later he collided into something warm and solid.

No one should ever doubt Aytigin's talking abilities. The world could be imploding and he'd still say whatever was on his mind. Cottongrass should probably have been fully aware of that by now - apologizing while running from a swarm of bees was fairly normal for him.

The down-the-hill tumble wasn't so normal, but whatever.

They fell like he'd planned - with him taking the brunt of the impact and Cotton landing on top of him. Which, admittedly, would have been a little hot if his shoulder hadn't flared with pain. Ah, hell - what was a little muscle damage compared to being smushed underneath a fluffy, white bundle of awesomeness? He immediately knew it was just that old joint bitching at him again.

On the bright side, neither of them were dead and the bees seemed to have receded.

He chuckled then, nervously. The memory of their last encounter popped back into his mind and awkwardness took over. The dark wolf cleared his throat and winked at the snowball he was playing cushion to. What could he say? Old habits died hard. "You sure do end up on top of me a lot," he purred, tail waving slightly over the grass as he tried to find Cotton's sunshine eyes. "Not that I'm complaining. Always have liked it that way, anyways."

Oh, crap. Had he really just said that? To the sweetest, most innocent wolf he'd ever met?

It was one of those very serious FML moments.

Whatever had cushioned his fall wasn't solid ground. This was becoming more and more obvious with each passing second. And the once drowning hum of angry bees was nothing more than ambient noise ricocheting in the corners of his mind, the sound fading while another one only grew louder. There was blood rushing through his veins. He could feel it pounding against his temples and it hurt. It made him feel dizzy and sick and there was something sparking just beneath his skin.

Repulsion was a foreign emotion to him. One that he had never before felt quite so strongly as he did in this moment. He didn't know what to do. There was static electricity biting into his skin and crawling along his spine with a creeping slowness. And with panicked paws he tried to push himself upright. To try and stop whatever sensation was rippling through him because physical contact was only making it worse. But the action fell short when he heard a purring voice. One that he didn't understand but already despised.

For a split second yellow eyes meet golden hazel. The reaction was instantaneous. His ears rolled back against his head and somewhere behind him his tail started wagging, fast and panicked because he didn't want this. He couldn't move fast enough and he practically stumbled to get off of the man. His brows furrowed and his muzzle wrinkled while a mixture of confusion and distaste blossomed.

"What's wrong with you?" He whined, voice trembling despite his attempt to hold conviction. His teeth were on edge and who even cared about apologizing anymore. He was right to bite Aytigin Delaney. There was nothing more clear when he stumbled backwards all while cowering. He didn't like the constant manhandling. And he especially didn't like the way it always seemed amusing to the other man.

What could he possibly do to make it more clear?

The instant they made eye contact, Cotton launched himself off of Aytigin as quickly as possible. Which, to be fair, he had every right to, and Ayti didn't try and stop him. Instead, he rolled over and got to his feet as well, shaking out his pelt and putting some weight on his shoulder. It hurt like hell, but it definitely wasn't broken or anything. In a brief moment of respite, he allowed himself to be thankful for that small blessing. So much so was he wrapped up in it that he missed Cottongrass' body language until he looked back up.

'What's wrong with you?'

His tail, which had been waving at an easy tempo behind him, stilled and drooped instantly at the sentence, and he couldn't help but picture a female - painted in tawnies and browns - asking him that same question. Only, instead of Cotton's fearful whine, hers was contemptuous and disgusted. But in that moment, Ayti couldn't tell much of a difference, because Cotton looked repulsed by him, regardless of his body posture.

It made Aytigin's mouth dry up.

The dark wolf glanced away, shamed, and lowered his posture so that his head was beneath the white wolf's. His tail tucked between his legs, and his ears pressed to his skull. Lips pinched together tightly before he responded. "I... don't... I'm not sure..." he trailed off, thinking that he comically sounded slightly like Risaela - struggling to form basic words. "I don't know what... I don't know what I did. I said... what I said was bad... I'm sorry. But what - what did I do before? In the lavender?" He whined, anxious and confused and worried for whatever stood between him and the younger man. "I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong, Cotton..."

From the chaos there rose a beacon of clarity. It was blinding and bright and painful. But he was lost in a sea of inner turmoil. One that he didn't know how to break free from until everything was already too far gone. And there was dread rising in his stomach. The kind that grew with each passing second until it threatened to consume him. His limbs wavered beneath the weight of his own body and this was why he didn't like being serious.

It made everything wrong in the world bubble up from deep inside of him. But he didn't know anything else. Not when he thought of past experiences and encounters that cut far deeper than he would ever let on. There were words on the tip of his tongue. They were building up in the back of his throat like bile before the sickness. And every single one was a barbed retort. Something he created when there was nothing but anger and emptiness inside of him from the days when he was a misbehaving puppy to even now.

He swallowed every single one down.

Because this wasn't about Aytigin. Not necessarily. It was about him feeling insignificant and hurt and he wondered if he was always this weak. If he would always want to inflict pain onto others that had been inflicted onto him in moments that passed without second thought. His breathing was quick and panicked inside of his lungs. There was something wracking his shoulders. But he still pressed forward.

"I don't like you..." He spoke, lips trembling with the words even when he said them fast as if he was ripping off a band-aid from tender skin. And he wasn't good at being serious. He didn't like dealing with negative emotions even when it felt like that's all his flesh ever held. Except he wanted this over with. Even when he wanted to run away. "But I shouldn't have bit you."

It wasn't a weight off of his shoulders. But it was a start, no matter how small.

Like Cotton, Aytigin had also gone through his fair share of mentally-scarring past. Like the white wolf, he, too, hated being serious. However, there was a time and place for it, and now that he was in danger of losing a friend, companion, and - though he wouldn't admit it - crush, he figured it was one of those times and places. He certainly still wouldn't use that dreaded L word, for he wasn't positively sure what he felt for the younger man just yet, but he'd try and salvage what he could of their damaged relationship.

He waited with baited breath for the snowball to speak, hazel eyes intent and locked on the other's sunshine gaze. The dark wolf definitely wasn't expecting what had come from the younger wolf's mouth. At least he didn't leave it at just the 'I don't like you,' part, because damn if that didn't stop Aytigin's heart from beating in his chest. But then he continued, telling the older wolf that at least, he shouldn't have bitten him.

Ayti instantly began shaking his head, wracking his brain for something to say in return. Something that would help, and not harm, like he had suddenly developed a penchant for, for some reason. He'd thought things were going so well.

"Well," he started, licking his maw and settling for sitting instead of standing. "I do like you, Cottongrass." He sighed, glancing to the side. "I don't care about the biting thing. I've definitely seen worse days, and you wouldn't have bitten me without reason. So I'm sorry."

He almost wanted Aytigin to feel hurt. Because that was the entire reason why he had dragged up those four little words. He didn't like the man that stood before him and never would. Not after what happened even if he didn't fully understand his own reasoning. It was a difficult thing to admit. Even when it was nothing more than words echoing in his head. He wasn't going to voice them.

"Okay." He breathed instead, his voice soft and shaken while he took another step back. His shoulders furrowed around his frame and he considered slumping onto the ground much like Aytigin just had. But he wanted this done and over with. There was no reason for him to drag the moment out. He tried to meet the golden hazel of Aytigin's gaze.

"I —" Think you should leave. The words fluttered on his tongue just out of reach. It would be the easy thing to say. To convince Aytigin to turn around and head back to his pack away from even the general direction of Wild Rye Fields. But he hesitated. He shifted on the spot and gave a weary glance around into the brush. There wasn't a new excuse waiting for him there.

"I think I should go." He spoke. And for reasons he didn't fully understand — he waited to be excused.