Flashback [Bronze Woods] Which Is The Real Hunter? (Kyo)

[Kaie]

Kyo played with her things as she expected. Her eyes followed his fingers when they touched, watched his face as he reacted to each new object. He had been, what looked like, crying. Tears had fallen from his eyes and face seemed downcast, struggling against a memory she didn't know. Seeing things she couldn't understand. Kaie said nothing, but the exploration of her bag seemed to bring him back to life. That was enough to make her feel satisfied. Happy even.

Then he was reiterating what she had said. Or so she thought. Dunt, he kept saying in reference to the fact he was Kelvic. Like he was denouncing himself from its title. As if he did not believe that was what he was. It seemed to come from a deeper understanding than just ignorance. For a moment Kaie almost thought he really knew what she had been talking about. Had he? That's when he began saying something truly strange.

He moved to his heart, pointing and looking at her purposefully. He was calling himself a Myrian? Kaie couldn't help but grin at his naivety. His form was human, not Myrian. He could turn into an animal while she could not. He could directly communicate with his canine companions. Kaie could make a call for prey at best, and even that was shoddy. Above all, Kyo was not born within the light of Myri. He did not worship the Goddess Queen. He did not maim and kill outsiders in her name. Did he worship any deity at all?

The more she thought, the more she thought she began to see a deeper meaning. A meaning the Kelvic might've meant. He was probably confused in a way. Sure, it was obvious she had no animal form. Yet in his current state, they looked pretty similar. They both had the same limbs. The same body parts. Above all they had emotions, thoughts, and were capable of creating connections. They were different but the same. Similar but not congruent.

He was back to the bag again. Reaching in and withdrawing her things and putting them back when he was finished with them. Then his eyes were on hers again. A look of uncertainty and nervousness clear in her expression. Did he think he did something wrong?

Kaie's gentle smile widened and she laughed a bit at him in good nature. She scooched over to be closer to her back, careful to move slow. To broadcast what she intended to do before she frightened him. Always maintaining an understanding without words.

She reached in, and after a little digging, removed flint and steel. Kaie held each in one hand and positioned herself to face him. She grinned up and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Surely this will amuse you...

She brought the steel down along the flint. A bright array of vibrant orange and yellow sparks flew from the strike. They didn't go far, but just jumped away from the stone. Kaie looked up at Kyo, watching his reaction carefully. She then struck the flint again with steel, letting him watch how it worked again. Then she held the two tools out with an expect expression.

"You try," She said warmly, nodding as if giving another sign of permission.

[Kyo]

Kelvic. Kelvic. Kelvic.

Kyo was watching Kaie. Watching her with sad eyes, and watching her with wary eyes. Kaie. Kaie, Myran. Kyo, Myran.

The coyote watched her mouth. He waited. He waited for her to make her 'Keel-veck' sound. He didn't know why, but he felt like-- he felt--

He didn't know. His head would not hold onto it.

Somehow... Kaie might make 'Keel-veck' to be Kyo's call...? She would take away his 'Kyo' call like a wolf would take a kill, to take the deer-meat. Kaie, Myran. Kyo, but not Kyo. Keel-veck. Keel-veck. Kelvic.

The coyote's feet itched to run. To run away. He watched her mouth and waited. Waited for her to make him 'Keel-veck'. They were the same. She would try to make him different?

If Kaie would make Kyo different, he was going to follow his feet and leave. He would run.

He didn't want that. Leaving would mean being with his dogs again out in the forest. Leaving would make that bad-feel in his belly, that sick-feel. Leaving would make that bad-feel in his head, too. Leaving would make him be so alone, even when his dogs would press to his sides. Make him so he wanted to tear out his fur and scratch his nose and bite his legs and tail until they were bloody. It was bad to be alone. Alone in the dirt and grass. Sick. Sick and lonesome and howling.

But he would leave. He would leave.
His belly shivered and felt sick...

And then Kaie made a new noise, and the coyote felt his heart lift.

The noise was like birds, and that beating inside his chest, that beating heart, and the simple, delicate buzzing of bees. Like wings. And like the way the flowers looked when they hung their pretty heads, wet with dew. It was like the dew, too. Sparkling. It was a noise that would sparkle in the light. It was light. If Kaie's smile made his heart feel like the sun, then this new noise, this happy, bubbling noise, this noise was the sun itself. He could almost feel the warmth of it, against his face.

The coyote was so-- he was so lifted by the Kaie-noise that he didn't know what she was doing until her hands moved. And then there was light, jumping from her hands. The young man was so shocked that he scrambled back, ducking his head down.

Her hands moved again. Again that new, flashing light. Quick-light. Gone-light. He let out a noise like a titter, yipping as a coyote would. His eyes were staring very hard at her hands. The light had not hurt her. She was still smiling. Then she made her voice-noise, and he repeated in a soft voice, "Ooh try."

She was holding her hands out. The young man stared at her, then at her hands. She had things in her hands. More things. He got close again, eyebrows held up high. He reached out. Gently took the things she was holding. Gently, like when he had taken the meat from her hands with his coyote teeth. "Try." He licked his lips, chewing on his cheek, scratching his teeth against it, trying to remember. A noise she had made, earlier. "Ah~ Ah! Bruh-ave. Bruh-ave try."

He held the things in his hands and looked at her. She was looking at him. Her eyes were watching hard again. He fumbled his fingers around, remembering. She had moved her hands. He would move his hands.

He waved the things in the air. Nothing. No quick-light, gone-light. He tilted his head. He put one of the things to his temple. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking quick-light.

Kaie had done quick-light, gone-light with her hands moving. But together. There had been a noise like rocks, like hard rocks clattering under the hooves of a mountain goat. Like goat horns when they shoved and caught together in a fight.

He tried again. He brought his hands apart then pushed them together. Clack! But no light. He tried again, this time up and down. Clack! Nothing. Clack, clack, clack! He looked down at his hands, curling his fingers around the things, feeling a hotness in his chest like anger. Impatience. Frustration. He wanted the quick-light, now! A growl rumbled low in his chest. He brought his hands together again, harder.

Clack!
And the quick-light, gone-light flew, leaping towards his face.

The coyote yelped and dropped the things, batting at them with one paw-- er, hand. With one hand. They didn't move. The things didn't make more of the quick-light. He looked at Kaie, utterly confused. He struggled to make the right noises to match what he was feeling. "Fruh-ends? Dunt woo-ry, fruh-ends? Bruh-ave try, fruh-ends?" He put his face down by the things on the ground, sniffing at them, poking at them with his fingers. "Ooh fruh-ends?"

He paused. Then he picked them up again. He clacked them together. The quick-light jumped again. Then it was gone-light, gone. "Fruh-ends." He did it again. Then again. Then he looked up at Kaie and felt his face grin. His eyes lit up. "Fruh-ends!"

What other things would her things do? In that holding thing that held the rest. If he clacked the others together, would they make the quick-light? Or would they do other things? He dropped the quick-light-makers onto the ground, then put his hands in the holding thing and grabbed two other things. One in each hand. Then he clacked them together... only no quick-light. He tried again.

Nothing.
Why? Why not?
The coyote looked at Kaie, Myran. He looked at her like why not, and said, "Try--? Dunt try?"

OOCI hope my posts are clear! I use the word 'things' to describe a lot of stuff... I hope it's not confusing! @_@

[Kaie]

Kaie couldn't help but grin at him as he tried to make the sparks fly. Smiling as he would word vomit spontaneously, searching for the right ones to communicate his feelings. He was intelligent. Smart, and Kaie did not brush off him living with animals as a reason to be surprised by it. The creatures of the forest, like the ones in the jungle, were just as clever as most people. Some more than others. They had their own skills, their own knowledge Kaie might never possess. For that reason alone her clan had respected them. Protected them as children of Caiyha. They were not merely pigs for the slaughter as the barbarians treated them. The animals were important. They had souls and purpose. They were within the same cycle of life and death as any other creature, not counting the rebirth the Myrians were gifted of course.

Kaie watched Kyo look at her perplexed when he tried the same action with her other things. He was ignorant to her tools, not stupid. Like teaching a child to use a sword, one must teach them. Explain to them. Though their understanding was rather basic, Kaie felt confident she could somehow make him see. She could show him on a primitive level.

"Oh. No, no," She started gently in a slow, friendly tone to make sure he knew she wasn't upset with him by using those words. She took the tools from the ground where he dropped them, waited for him to focus on her, then continued.

"Flint," She said sternly, holding up the rock in her left hand to distinguish it from the other object.

"Steel," She explained in the same manner as clear as possible, lowering the flint to raise the steel instead. Then as if to connect everything, clicked them together to make sparks fly as she did before.

"See? Flint. Steel. Make spark," She added, creating the sparks once more in hopes he'd connect "spark" with the light. To tie it in with the flint against steel. She placed the objects down between them before reaching into her pack as he had done earlier. She removed a few of them, two at a time, and clacked them together. As expected, no sparks.

"No flint. No steel. No spark," She reiterated before putting them away and replacing them with another set. Kaie repeated the action, striking them against one another but again, nothing.

"Understand now?" The Myrian asked while searching his eyes for some reaction. Watching to see if he did indeed get her short and simple explanation. She thought for a moment while she waited, thinking of what else she might have to teach him with. Something else to play with. But what?

Suddenly she got an idea and the seriousness of her teaching returned to the bright smile. She stood up then and went to turn away but remembered something and quickly spun back again. Her face was back to serious and she brought a hand toward him, index finger pointing at him.

"You. Stay. No touch," Kaie demanded softly but with intent, pointing from him to the ground and then wagging her finger toward her stuff. No. Then she turned and paced a few feet away, gathering some things from the ground. When she had gotten what she needed she returned and sat back down in front of him. Kaie put the things behind her but placed a small handful between them. A simple pile of leaves and twigs. Tinder. The Myrian woman picked up the flint and steel again, held them over the fire, and then paused to look at him. To explain beforehand.

"Flint. Steel. Make spark. Spark make fire," Kaie said right before striking the tools together several times, producing sparks until the fuel caught. A simple flame rose that burned through the leaves first and then incinerated the twigs. Kaie held a hand out as if to keep him from touching it, hoping he would see the trust in her eyes enough not to fight her.

"Careful. Fire warm. Fire hot. Burns," She told him, mimicking a gesture with her hand as if she had burned it. Would he know the sensation?

"Too much fire bad. Burns all," Kaie added while gesturing to the forest around her. Hopefully she hadn't used too many words and bombarded him with so much information at once. Nonetheless, she took a new handful of tinder when the old one burned out and placed it between them. Then she offered up the flint and steel again, making she she watched carefully and protected him from what he didn't know if he made a mistake.

"You try."

[Kyo]

Now there was a new Kaie. Serious-eyes Kaie, but different. Not watching. Something else.

It was like hunting. Like showing pups to hunt. Like showing his dogs to go after the deer by grabbing the neck and holding. This was that. That teaching. Kaie was the teacher.

Kyo settled in, peering at her with bright eyes. He cocked his head to the side.

"Flint." She held up one of the quick-light-makers. The young man focused his eyes on it. It was the one that looked like a rock. He bobbed his head, curling his fingers over his bent knees, and said, "Fluh-int."

"Steel." This was the other quick-light-maker. This was the one that didn't look like anything the coyote had seen, not out in the wood. He scented the air, but the thing didn't smell. Not with this nose. He tapped his fingers on his knees. "Stuh-eel."

Then Kaie clacked the quick-light-makers together. There was the quick-light, gone-light. Kyo's head tilted further, and then she spoke. "See? Flint. Steel. Make spark."

"Make spurk--?"

Kaie was picking up other things from the holding thing. She clacked them together. The sound was wrong. There was no quick-light, gone-light-- none of that 'spark' that Kaie had called. There was nothing.

She picked up another two. Not the quick-light-makers, not the 'flint' and 'steel' that Kaie had called. Other things. She clacked them together.

Again, the wrong sound in the coyote's ears. Again, no 'spark'. No quick-light to be gone-light.

The young man twisted his mouth, blinking. Flint, steel, spark. Other things, no spark. Wrong clack, no spark.

Kyo had taught his dogs to hunt the deer. Now Kaie was teaching Kyo to hunt the right sound for the quick-light, the spark-light. The right clack. If Kyo clacked the spark-light-makers, the flint and the steel, then there would be spark. If Kyo clacked the other things and made the wrong sound, then there was no spark.

And then Kaie did something else, and the coyote nearly bounded to his feet.
She turned and started to go away.

The young man rose from his crouch. He perched on his toes, balanced like he was leaping from rock to rock across a wide river while his strong dogs swam and splashed and got their fur wet in the fast water. A sound of protest bubbled from his chest. Kaie turned back. She pointed to the ground, and said to 'stay, no touch'. Whining high in his throat, the coyote stayed.

She didn't go far, and the whole time Kyo waited nervously, crouching back down. He had his knees to his chest like he was going to jump after her, jump fast and far if she ran, or left. He didn't want her to leave. Not now. Not Kaie.

She came back, and he wished he had a tail to wag. His mouth smiled in relief, and he said, "Fruh-ends."

Kaie clacked the flint and the steel, and there were the spark-lights. Then gone-lights. Spark-lights, spark-lights. Gone-lights. And then--

Then hot-lights.
Kyo had seen these lights before. These hot-lights. He had seen the trees light and the ground light and the daytime sky go black with choking smells and smokes, seen the rocks turn black and everything go black. Even animals go black and hurt, yelping until they were quiet and still and dead. He had been touched by the hot-lights, and he remembered the hot-lights from the men when he was a young pup. The shouting men.

So when Kaie reached her hand towards the hot-lights and then whipped it back, waving it, wincing... Kyo snatched her hand like a mouse from the grass, grabbing it, turning it over, ready to lick away her pain--

And her hand was fine. He let it go, letting out a whine of confusion.

"Make burn? Make burn, bad-burn." He touched the back of her hand, sniffing with his nose. No smell of black-flesh, no smell of hurt. "No burn."

She was gathering sticks and grass and leaves together, dry leaves like the ones before. Dry leaves for the spark-light, the hot-lights, the burn-light. She gave him the flint and steel, and he held them in his hands. He looked over at her. Then he shook his head, back and forth, cooing softly out, "No spurk, no burn. No fluh-int, stuh-eel. No Kay-ee burn. No burn Kay-ee."

His dogs felt his reluctance, and Sister snarled out from the dark and shadows. The burn-lights, hot-lights that Kyo remembered were back before the pups were here. But even dogs knew that burn-lights were bad-lights, from the choking smell in the air.

[Kaie]

She listened to him repeat after her, absorbing what she said like a child learning the names of weapons. He was refreshingly zealous in a way she found absent in most humans. It made her time seem anything less than wasted. She wanted to teach him what she knew. She was happy to let him explore her things and show what each does. Kyo was kind hearted and obedient. He trusted her wholeheartedly and she adored her companion for that. The Kelvic was harmless and ignorant to her world. Not her Myrian world, but the barbarian one. The one he'd have to face if he ventured forth in his human form.

The humans were brutal, malicious, and untrustworthy. They were impure and far lost in their way. She knew what they did to one another. Enslaving each other like they were not kin but all enemies. Myrians weren't even so low as to wrap their kin in chains and cage them like hunted animals. There were places she heard of that would do worse to Kelvics like Kyo. Experimenting and testing. Torture, really. She didn't want that for her new friend. Yet that was another lesson for another time. A time when the coyote was prepared to leave his dogs behind or let them accompany him in a more civil setting. That time had not yet come. Kaie wondered if it would ever come. Perhaps it was for the best. For now, she would teach him more about fire.

She watched him rattle off phrases, explaining to her in his own way why fire was bad. She could see why. Kaie could see it in his eyes, the fear and reluctance to accept fire could be good. She had known the burning of trees and flesh. She'd be a liar if she said her clan never used those very combinations to kill their enemies. Yet in these lands she knew fire also saved her life. It was that side of fire she'd have to show to Kyo. Yet how would she explain to someone who knew a flame to be so horrible that it could be okay?


"Yes. Spark make fire. Fire make burn. Fire bad and good," She tried to both explain and reason with him, waving a careless hand in the direction of the snarling dog. Kaie then gently placed the flint and steel right before him. Then she withdrew her hands to let the tools simply sit there waiting for him. It was a neutral gesture. An act to let him know she was not forcing his hand. All was his decision. He could make fire or decide he didn't want to. First she'd try to do a little convincing before she accepted the flint and steel back, though.

"Cold bad too. Cold kill. Fire make warm. Fire can make live," The Myrian offered plainly, leaning over her put out pile and blowing on it softly. After a few tries the embers sparked and a small flame returned to finish off the gathering. Kaie then placed her hands on her arms and mocked a shiver, rubbing her hands on her arms like she was cold. Then she moved her hands to hover over the warm flame. When her little act was done, she promptly blew out the fire. Showing him she could in fact control the burn.

The Myrian then looked back at the Kelvic expectantly. Waiting for him to decide. Would he choose to learn to make fire and escape cold or would be back away in fear?

[Kyo]

Kyo kept his hands back from the flint and steel, the hot-lights-makers. He kept his hands back, swaying back from his toes to his heels, rocking on his feet. Kaie had made her noises, her 'fire bad and good' talk-noises. He looked over at her. He panted his tongue out, then showed his teeth a little.

Then he reached down and picked up the fire-makers. He held them, wary, in his hands. Looking down at them. Thinking at them.

Friends? Were these things friends, good things? Kaie had told him so. Kaie had. Kaie was good. Kaie was so good.

So. So Kaie was good. Told him the fire-makers, these 'flint' and 'steel' were good. So then. Kyo would call them good, too...?

The young man kept staring down. Finally he looked up at Kaie and nodded his head, eyebrows brought low, still. Serious.

The flint and steel could make good-spark and bad-spark. Kyo would only make the good-spark. The good-spark was the warm-spark. The not-cold-spark.

The good-spark would make the good-fire. The fire, hot-lights kind that was not the burn kind, not the kind that would light the trees and the ground and make the sky and the animals black and hurting and dead. Not the dead-spark, the bad-spark. Good-spark. Kyo would make live-spark.

"Make good-spurk? Make live-spurk. Live-spark, no bad-spurk." He crouched close to the dry leaves and the dry sticks and dry grass Kaie had brought. Clack, clacked the flint and steel fire-makers together, like before. He wanted to make good-spark. This spark that he was making now looked like it had before, it was no different. But like Kaie he would make the good kind. This would be the good kind because he wanted to make the good-spark.

It took a lot of clacking, but then there was the smell of smoke in his nose. He squished up his face like there was a skunk nearby with its choking, smelling spray.

The dry grass and leaves and sticks were smoking. He leaned his face close like had Kaie had, watching. What had she done? Breathing on the smoke...?

Breathing on the smoke! The coyote felt his thoughts clack into understanding like flint on steel. Breathing on the spark, to make it good-spark. To make it live-spark, life-spark, because dead things didn't breathe. Bad-fire, bad-spark, dead-spark, that was not life-spark. Life-spark was breath-spark.

Kyo wiggled in excitement and breathed on the spark to make it life-spark. There was smoke. He breathed the smoke away... and the smoke flared up into fire!

This was good-fire. Not bad-fire. Life-fire.

The young man brought his face back from the warmth. Life-fire was like the sun. Still hot, but good-hot and not bad-hot. He reached out his hand to touch the life-fire, quick and sure--

And then he yelped when the life-fire bit him, burned him! He snarled at it, waving his hand like Kaie had done, confusion written on his face. He stuck his fingers into his mouth, suckling at them, licking the pain back, before pulling them back out to look that them. Just red. Not black and dead like those animals he remembered. Just touched by the fire, red, hurt. But why? Life-fire wasn't bad. It was warm, good fire. It shouldn't burn him! "Live-fire, bad-fire? Live-fire good, yes? No bad. No, no burn! No burn Kee-yo. No burn. Make live-fire. Live-fire friends, yes? No?" He held out his hand for Kaie to see his red fingers, then chewed them in his mouth more. Before he pointed them at the live-fire that was bad-fire, and worked to make the right noises.

"Bad-fire! No good-fire, burn! Dunt burn! Dunt burn Kee-yo! Fire make live. Make live, not make burn!" He bared his teeth at the fire. Telling it that it shouldn't burn him. He didn't know why it had burned him. He had breathed it to life. Breathed it into life-fire, live-fire. So it shouldn't burn him!

If Kaie wanted to be warm, then she should turn into her other form. Her fur-form. Her coyote. Kaie, Myran. To be Myran was to be good. But to be Myran was to be cold, too. Kaie could be warm if she had her fur. Like Kyo would have his fur to make him warm, even in the cold and in the snow when the trees were asleep. When the squirrels and the birds and even the big bears went to sleep. Kyo didn't sleep when it was cold, but Kyo had fur to make him warm again. Fur to keep the snow away.

"Warm? Yes-warm, make-- make, ah~" He thought, going through the noises she had made. She had not yet made a noise for 'fur'. He didn't remember her making that sort of noise. And Kyo didn't know how to make that kind, not by himself. He could remember how to make his 'Kyo' call by himself because that was him. Important. He wouldn't know how to make other noises, the noises he wanted. The noises Kaie would understand.

Hopelessly, he grumbled out, "Make warm, yes-warm, make-- make Keel-veck. Try make Keel-veck, yes?" In a flash of light and colors, bright colors in his eyes, Kyo turned from this other form back to coyote. He ruffled up his fur, making his haunches puff up and shivering like he had been cold. Then he went from coyote back to the other form. He held out his red-fingers, pointing at Kaie. "Ooh. Ooh make Keel-veck, Keel-veck make warm. No fire make warm, no bad-fire, burn. Make Keel-veck, make warm." He didn't like having to use that noise, that 'Kelvic' call. But it was the only noise he knew that Kaie would understand. Would hear, and listen to. "Kay-ee. Ooh try. Try Keel-veck."

[Kaie]

All seemed to be well at first. Kyo had been babbling to her again about what she had shown him, letting her know he was aware of the connection being made. Of course she hadn't seen he was making the wrong kind of connection. Naturally she assumed all would know the destructive tendencies of the element. A single untended flame could burn down a forest. She'd heard wildfire could bring down the trees surrounding a mountain range when the weather made the wood dry. Yet she know that fire could also be life giving. Kaie had sat in the jungle when the nights were crisp and the breeze was cool. When she traveled to the other side of the world she soon found there was far worse to weather. Her father had lit countless fires along the way to warm their freezing bodies. There were times her fingers and toes had become so numb she had to think twice about roasting them right on the flames. Fire had been a life saver. How could she not realize animals didn't always see it quite the same?

When the Kelvic breathed life into the smoking stack, Kaie swelled with pride. That is until he decided it would be a good idea to touch his hand to the flame. "No!" began to bubble up impulsively but it was far too late for her to get words out by the time the damage was done. Kaie smacked her hand into her forehead, exasperated and almost angry at herself. He was intelligent but that didn't mean he could've known it would hurt. Only then did his words make her realize she gave him the wrong impression. Fire was fire. Fire burns. Fire makes one warm. The Myrian woman had actually created two ideas of fire in his head rather than one. Just when he built the courage too...

Then Kyo was speaking again, trying to get some sort of phrase across. One she hardly understood. Make warm? Wasn't that what the fire was doing? What could he possibly mean when she could be warm if she wanted to right then? Then he struggled out the word he seemed to hate so much before. Kelvic. Suddenly, understanding reached the savage.

He wants me to be...A Kelvic? Try to turn into an animal?

The Myrian had to keep from shaking her head or smashing it off the nearest boulder. That's what he was confused about before, too. About them being different. He didn't know the difference between races. In his head, was there only one? Did he not know only Kelvics could change? Kyo was an animal only with a unique ability. Kaie was a Myrian in the only form the Goddess Queen gave her. The only one she needed. Myri had conquered effortlessly in this very form. Why would she envy those who could transform to another?



"Uh. Kaie no try. Kaie Myrian. No Kelvic. Kaie...Kaie no....Kaie no coyote," She said, struggling through the sentence to find words to convey what she needed. She then gestures to her body, pointing out her clothes. Then she pointed to him, pointing out no clothes.

"Kaie no fur. Cold. Fire warm," The Myrian elaborated some, watching Kyo closely. After a moment of silence on her part she spoke again.

"Kyo. Seen others like Kaie? Not Kelvics. Not animals. People?"

[Kyo]

The young man licked his red, burned fingers. They hurt, tasting of smoke and feeling of the fire-lights. It was a hot hurt, like the fire had hidden in his raw skin. Still, he knew this bad feeling, this hot-feeling and burned-feeling; he knew it would fade like the sun, how the bright sun faded into night and darkness. His fingers would get better.

Kaie. She was here, now. He could nurse his hand later, or he could turn it into a paw and have a different sort of feeling for the hurt and take care of that. But Kaie was now. He needed to look at Kaie. He was interested in Kaie, not his hurt. In her, and in her noises.

Kaie liked her noises, making her noises, and that was different than animals. Animals used scent, sight, and hearing, yes, but it wasn't the same. There was more. And less. Less sounds to listen to, to think about.

Was that what she was teaching him? That she was different than animals?
Kaie no fur. No Kelvic. Kaie Myrian.

Kaie had no fur. No fur. His eyes told him that. But his eyes and his skin told him that he had no fur. Not in this form. Kaie needed to make her other form to have fur, to be warm. Did she not want to? Why not? When Kaie was cold, didn't she want fur to make her warm? Warm fur was good, to keep away shivers and snow. But Kaie wanted to use fire, the hot-lights, to make herself warm. Why? Why, when she had fur in her other form? Why?

Myran. No, his ears had told him that 'Myran' wasn't the exact right noise. Myr-ee-an. Myrian. And Kelvic.

His friend pointed from herself to him. Kaie no coyote.
Coyote. Yes, Kyo was coyote. Kaie wasn't like him. Kaie was not coyote. Her hand had pointed at her, there, and then at him, here. Separate.

She was-- she was meaning she was different, just making the meaning without making the noise to say it for his ears.

Different. Kyo didn't want to be different. Kyo was Kyo. Kyo was coyote. Kyo didn't want Kelvic and Myrian, didn't want to be different than Kaie. Things that were different weren't together. Didn't stay together. How birds fly in the sky, how mice hide in their holes in the ground, how coyotes run and run and dogs run too. Different. Birds different than mice different than dogs and coyotes. All apart. Kelvic and Myrian, different.

Different. Kaie wanted him to be different, a coyote that was other than her. Why?

Because she had no fur? Was that why? No fur, no... no animal, no coyote. Kaie wasn't just having no fur, not in this form. She was not another form. She was Kaie, all the time. Kyo was Kyo and Kyo was coyote. Kaie was Kaie. Kaie was in this other form. This was her one form. Her Myrian form.

Kyo was two and Kaie one. Different. Apart.
They would have to be apart, again. Kyo would be sick and alone. With his dogs, but so, so alone. So howling and sad. So dark, inside.

Seen others like Kaie? People?

"Kee-yo... Kee-yo seen uh-thers? Uh-thers, peepuh?" He didn't-- He didn't want to make him hurt. More than his red fingers. Make him bad. He didn't want to know Kaie would be different, that she would be apart. Didn't want to know that he would be alone like before, running and running and always looking. The coyote didn't have to run when Kaie was here. After she was gone he would have to run far, far. So far until he fell down, panting and thirsty. Run, even in his sleep, even in his head.

He didn't want to know how he would be hurt, sick again. Bad and dark again. So it was good to think back and remember, and not think front, not forward. Kaie had made the noise 'seen others? People?' She wanted him to think back. He wanted that with Kaie.

People. Back before his dogs, back before his dogs had been pups, back past his girl-coyote, back before he was running alone and before he was running with those other dogs in the wood. People. Men shouting.

And that one. His heart hurt to think about that one, that boy. He had a hard time thinking, had a hard time remembering. So long ago, so long behind. He had been with that boy as the men shouted. The shouting men, those men, and then that boy. Different. That boy had been different, too. Different than the others. More. More than Kyo. Not-- not Kelvic, how those men had made Kyo be Kelvic. He had been one like Kaie, not two like Kyo. He had been one form. Good form. And then, because they were different, that boy had been gone. Apart. Apart from Kyo.

Kyo had been always running, looking.

The young man was quiet for a long time, as quiet as the sky. Then he moved his mouth, trying to make noises. Remembering back so far made it hard. Hard for him to make noises how he wanted to, like he was choking without anything to choke on. Just hard. Finally he croaked out, "Kee-yo... Kee-yo seen peepuh. Uh-thers." He tried to make sense to Kaie. Because he had to know something about Kaie. Something important. "Uh-thers make Kee-yo Keel-veck, yes? Make Kee-yo Keel-veck. Make Kee-yo no Kee-yo. Make Keel-veck. Uh-thers make. Kee-yo no make, Kee-yo dunt try. Uh-thers try." He didn't know if she would know. There was a heavy heart in his chest, a heart that beat fast and hard. A nervous feeling, fluttering on butterfly wings in his belly. He snapped his teeth together, pressing a hand to his face.

"Make bad. Make bad live. Keel-veck bad live. Peepuh make bad. Bad Keel-veck. Bad Kee-yo, bad live. No good."

No good. No good. He didn't know why. It had just been bad, he remembered bad. He remembered times like the sick times, being sick in his head. He remembered-- it was so hard. He was a pup, then. A young pup, and the shouting men. A young, hurt pup. Sick. And then there had been the boy--

He couldn't remember. Something about the boy. Something important.

But it was not there, not in his head. He didn't know. He didn't know. He couldn't remember. Too far, too gone. Behind. Past.

This was here, and Kaie was here. And Kyo had to know about Kaie. "Kay-ee. Kay-ee make Kee-yo Keel-veck...? Make Keel-veck, make bad?" And there was something else. Important. More important than that. More important than all. "Ah~ Ah, Kay-ee make-- make--" He thought hard, putting his head in his hands, gripping his fingers in his hair. "Kay-ee make Kee-yo stay--? Ah, and Kay-ee no stay...? Kay-ee dunt try stay...? No stay...?" They would be apart, because they were different. He couldn't think how to ask that. Would Kaie go away? When? Now? Later?

[Kaie]

To simply say that Kaie was thoroughly lost in his speech would be an understatement. His words were all jumbled together. He had been piecing together familiar words to convey some indescribable feelings and thoughts. Though she knew what the words meant and could catch the emotion behind them, Kaie couldn't quite catch his drift. Really she just knew little about the Kelvics. All she knew was that they were animals with a human form. Shifters that searched to bond. And that was all.

"Ah, no. No. Kaie no make Kyo Kelvic. Myrians no make Kelvic. No make Kyo live bad," She tried to explain solemnly. She had no idea how he supposed she might've made any kind of Kelvic at all. Actually she was starting to feel uneasy with the unknown concept of the "others" Kyo spoke about. The ones who made him nervous and afraid. Were they really capable of creating the shifters? And how had they made Kyo's life so bad? As badly as she wanted her questions answered, she could tell he wasn't a fan of the topic. Without giving her room to further address the "others" the subject was changed. To her.

"Kaie no make Kyo stay. Kaie no make Kyo go. You can choose. Kaie live here in forest. Live in forest near big walls of city," She replied with an indifferent shrug. The Myrian wasn't quite sure what the man wanted her to do. Stay? Go? All she could do was sit and wait for his reply.

[Kyo]

Kyo sensed some reaction from Kaie that he had not seen before.

The noises she made, she was letting him know that she was safe. She would not make him be Kelvic, make him be different, make him live bad. She would not make him go or stay. She was not like the men, how they made him stay and be Kelvic, made him stay like he was trapped. Hungry, thirsty, so so sick and alone. Nowhere to run or go. No trees and no lakes and no mountains and no running, just sitting and dark and howling. Kaie would not do that. He knew that Kaie was safe. Kaie was good.

That was enough to make his heart not hurt, not be heavy inside. Make his stomach settle so he didn't feel sick. Kaie was good.

But there was something different about her that made him look now, look hard like he was trying to see something far away, or high above. Kaie was not smiling. Her brows were down. He reached up with one hand and touched his own forehead, looking at her. She did not look happy. She was not making her sun-noise, like words but better, that noise like chuckling water over rocks in a creek, like a pup as it plays and has fun and has such full delight, tail wagging. No. She was holding still, just looking at him as if a still cat perched on a branch, waiting. But for what? He wanted to please her. He wanted her to smile, to make her sounds. The sounds he had been making at her, the sound-calls for go and stay and Kelvic... she was not smiling. Kaie did not like those sounds...? She didn't want to hear those sounds...? So he wouldn't use them.

"Ah~ Kay-ee dunt woo-ry. Kay-ee good peepuh. Kay-ee no bad. Kay-ee no make bad." He pushed his fingers to his forehead again, made his eyebrows pull down to mimic hers, like how a harmless snake will take the colors of a poison-one. Then his hand went to his lips, bringing the corners down so that he did not smile. "No make bad. Make good. Good Kay-ee!" He brought his fingers down and lifted his lips to grin at her, bringing his eyebrows high up. Through the smile he said, "Make good! Kee-yo make Kay-ee good. Dunt woo-ry. No bad. No bad."

Since Kaie did not like those other sounds they had been making, he would help her get new ones to think about. He shuffled closer on the balls of his feet, his toes digging into the soft dirt beneath him to keep him steady. He avoided the place where the hot-lights were when he moved, the bad-good-fire, so that he wouldn't be burned again. Then he searched for sounds, cocking his head to the side to look at her. He pointed at the glinting sharp-ended sticks she had, stuck in a holding-thing across her back. "Kay-ee make--? Good, try--? Like fire, Kee-yo try? Kay-ee stay, make good try."

She seemed to be pleased when she was teaching him. So Kyo would ask to be taught. And he was curious about all her things. Like the quick-spark, flint and steel, fire-maker she had shown him before. He had curiosity for new things, not for old, old things long past... like the other people that Kaie had asked about, so far back in his pup's memory. New things were better, would make them both happy.

So what were those sharp-sticks? One end was like the feathers of a bird, even smelled like a bird, but not alive. There were other smells, too, strong smells long faded that he hadn't sniffed before, human-smells he thought. The other end was pointed, looked stinging. Bees had stingers if you snuck up to try to hear them buzz in the hive, or eat all of their sweet stored honey. Porcupines had long, hurting needles to poke into your snout if you sniffed too close. Needles to keep predators away, to keep safe. These sharp-sticks, they were for Kaie to be safe? Did Kaie not use her teeth and claws to protect, to fight, to hunt?