-Chapter 8-

The morning was quiet, cold, and snow covered. I had been up before the sun getting the morning farm chores done with the plan of suggesting Marquis did it so my father wouldn’t be suspicious. With chores done and a cup of tea in hand I carefully walked back upstairs, avoiding creaky floorboards while trying not to spill any tea. I was heading to Walt’s room to hang out with them in hopes they’d already be awake. Which looking back on now, was a dumb assumption.

I walked in on the sleeping elfen, their face smushed into the pillow and the blankets a wreck. Guess I wasn’t the only one who slept like a weirdo on their stomach, was my initial thought. However as my eyes followed the light peaking through the windows it led my gaze to Walt’s bareback. From there I saw tufts of fuzzy steely greyish-blue feathers along with small spike-like pin feathers. My ears lifted in curiosity as I took a step closer. So much for being quiet as I stepped down right on a creaky floorboard. I flinched upon the screech and shuttered at the unpleasant sound on sensitive ears. The thick tufts in my ears could only shield me from so much. Same applied to Walt.

“Who the fuck is there?” They groaned, stirring in the sheets.

“Ehm, sorry, though you’d already be up, Walt,” I apologised.

“Since when was I a morning person?” They scoffed, rolling over to their side to look at me.

“To be fair, I’ve never been around to know what time you wake up,” I replied with a shrug.

“Whatever,” Walt huffed and sat up.

“What's on your back by the way?” I asked. Walt squinted.

“You mean my stripes?” They sneered at me like I was an idiot. “What, are you so dumb you haven’t seen a hirschelfen with stripes on their back?”

“No, I know you’ve got stripes, I’m not a moron. I’m talking about the feathers!” I clarified. Their ears perked up and they dropped their squint. “Walt?”

“Don’t tell anyone,” They spat. “I forgot to get rid of them, you weren’t supposed to see anything.”

“Get rid of?” I puzzled.

“I pluck out the feathers when they grow in. I forgot this time.”

“But… wouldn’t that hurt? Why would you do that?” I questioned.

“Lord you ask a lot of questions,” Walt growled. “To hide the fact I have feathers and it’s none of your business if it hurts or not,” They huffed and scrunched up their nose.

“But why?” Walt rolled their eyes at me.

“You’re like a little kid with all these questions.”

“I’m just curious, sorry,” I apologised and softened my voice. “It’s not everyday you find out when of your mates has wings!”

“They’re not wings. They stop right before the uh…” They paused to think. “Heemuras.”

“Humerus?” I corrected it ponderously.

“Yes. That.” They turned their head over their shoulder to try and look at their back “It’s just like I have two extra arm stumps. They’ve always been like that.”

“Huh, interesting.”

“I have extra shoulder blades because of them, actually.”

“Really?” My ears perked up.

“Yeah, watch,” They turned their back to me. They proceeded to lift their “pseudo wings” up, revealing that the tufts of feathers were not attached to their back, but two whole other appendages, though albeit small and fragile looking. The thin growths looked like I could snap them between my fingers.

“Wow, yeah I can definitely see them now,” I commented, tilting my head in fascination. “So you essentially just have blue little wing stumps.”

“Pretty much,” They turned back to me. “I don’t like how they’re blue though. It makes it more difficult to hide the damn things,” they groaned. I thought to myself for a moment while Walt continued to complain aloud about their not-quite wings.

“Ehm, Walt?” I interrupted them. They looked. “Would you need any help getting the feathers off at all?” I asked. Weird question, I know. I figured after bugging Walt first thing in the morning I would offer something in return as an apology for giving them an unpleasant start to their day.

“Uh… sure?” They replied. “I’ve never actually had someone ask to help. Actually no one else knows about the feathers, so no wonder,” Walt murmured, moving the covers off of them and stretched out their legs and paws with a little grunt. I decided the best place to try and remove the feathers was the bathroom. I wanted to be quick before my parents woke up and would see Walt’s predicament.

“You know, your black eye is already healing up,” I told Walt when I looked at their face in the mirror, seeing myself behind them. It was funny to see Walt compared to myself, I always saw them as an attractive person and actually seeing how small they were compared to me was amusing in a sad sort of fragile ego-boosting way. Suppose height was the only thing going for me.

“It looks worse than yesterday!” They gawked.

“Bruises get darker before they get better, here, let me get you a warm washcloth,” I said and grabbed one of the neatly folded cloths from the counter. I turned on the sink and let it warm up.

“It looks like someone scribbled a marker all over my eye,” Walt whined.

“Look at the bright side, if it’s already healing now it’ll be gone in no time!” I assured them with a smile as I ran the blue washcloth under the warm water, turning it off when I felt the hot water reach my palm. Walt squinted. “What’s the squint for?” I asked, holding the washcloth out to them.

“Nothing,” They grumbled.

“Alright, then quit pouting. Hold that over your eye, it’ll help.” Walt took the washcloth and did as instructed but flinched when they touched the warm rag to their eye. “So.. how do I get rid of these things,” I asked and stepped behind Walt.

“You just pull them out,” Walt shrugged.

“Like defeathering a chicken?” I asked.

“If you want to put it like that…”

“I can’t think of any other reason I would need to take feathers off of something,” I pointed out.

I lifted my hand to one of the bigger clumps of down and pin feathers on Walt’s back. I got a tight grip and quickly snatched my hand away. Walt cursed and jumped. I now had a handful of pin and down feathers.

“That hurt, Jesus!” Walt hissed.

“I got the feathers out though,” I said, and tossed them in the trash. Walt shuddered.

“I didn’t like that,” They cringed.

“Maybe I should pull a smaller bunch,” I suggested.

“Uh… sure,” They said, their voice growing more uneasy. I did as I said, taking a smaller clump and yanked them off. Walt jumped again.

“Okay okay, stop,” They hissed and moved away from me. Their face was red with embarrassment. My ears lowered.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” I asked worriedly, stepping away, tossing what was in my hand into the trash.

“I’ll get rid of them myself,” They huffed with ears pinned back with another shudder, the fur on their tail standing on end.

“Uh… okay, if that’s what you want,” I said nervously, putting my hand on the back of my neck. Walt stood quiet in frustration with their tail bristling until I left. I wasn’t sure what I did to set them off… but whatever it was I sure as hell felt terrible about it.

The rest of the day was painstakingly uneventful. The sort of uneventful that makes an anxious mind paranoid. Spending the day meandering passed windows to look out on the layering of snow evenly laid across the fields and roofs wasn’t much to entertain the brain. Uneventfulness turned into boredom. Boredom turned into thinking. Thinking turned into over- thinking. Inevitably, over-thinking turned into dread. I hugged myself, gripping the fabric of my striped jumper while I paced about the house.

Walt had spent most of their day with my mum while she worked on crafts. I’d pass by my mum’s office and see Walt sitting by her desk with a chair they’d dragged in from the dining room, watching her with their ears high. We didn’t talk much. Though I considered Walt a friend, we weren’t really close, or at least we hadn’t the chance to know one another. Walt, just like myself, sort of stuck around Marquis. Without him it was weird. I wasn’t one to start a conversation, not to mention with Walt of all people. After our awkward encounter in the morning, I was even more reluctant to so much as peek in and give a little wave. However, sometimes I would see Walt look over and direct a small wave at me. I would only nod in response and continue pacing about. My parents didn’t acknowledge my pacing. They’ve never acknowledged it in the past anyways. I couldn’t say how much of my day was spent pacing.

I was in a sickening haze of worry as evening came by. I skipped dinner and decided to hide away in my room. I had such a horrible gut feeling that I couldn’t shake off. Something was going wrong, I could feel it. I prayed that Winfred and Mark would be alright, but the feeling coiled in the pit if my stomach that had been gradually worsening throughout the day was trying to convince me otherwise. While Walt was taking my place at the dinner table that evening, I was sitting on my bed with my lone turntable on low with one of my favourite disks running to try and distract me. Eventually I had to drag Walt outside to do the evening chores before my father got on my case about it. Walt didn’t really help take care of any of them, but it was nice to have some company while taking care of the farm while it was practically pitch black out. Downsides of being a Hirscheflen with dark eyes, we didn’t adjust to low light as well as those with light coloured eyes. When all the work was done, and I was relieved that my dad hadn’t realised Robin was gone, it was back to my room. However, this time Walt decided to tag along.

I still wasn’t quite all there and just let Walt fiddle around with the random junk in my room as I sat on my bed with a book. They took interest in an old red accordion that I had at the foot of my bed that used to be my mum’s. It was small for my height, but she gave it to me anyway a few years back. Though I hadn’t played it much in the past months, I would say I was fairly decent at playing it.

I didn’t care if Walt wanted to mess around with it a bit. I couldn’t imagine they could do much with one arm, they seemed amused regardless. I let them carry on as I continued to read. Just as I was beginning to get sucked in to the story and let my mind off things, I was snapped out.

“Burt, when is Marquis gonna be back?” Walt pondered aloud, pausing from their venture with my mum’s old accordion. My ears perked up from my book. I tilted my head as I thought.

“He said a few weeks. But uh,” I stopped and lowered my ears, and put my book down.. “I’m not sure he’s coming back.”

“What? Do you think he’s gonna die or something?” Walt asked, placing their chin onto my accordion.

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head and shuddering at the thought of it. “I… I just think Marquis is going to stay in Britain instead of returning…” I sighed, slouching down.

“Really? That doesn’t sound like a very Mark thing to do,” Walt said and their ears lowered.

“He was acting weird when I asked him,” I mentioned with a frown. “I have a hunch he’s really gonna take his chances and leave for Britain.” Walt was quiet for a moment, I glanced over, their face tightened as they focussed their eyes in one spot. I tilted my head, wondering how they must’ve felt about all of this.

“Good for him then, I hope he does go home,” Walt stated confidently, their grey tortoiseshell ears perking up, the tiny gold earring in their right ear swinging up for a moment.

“What?”

“I hope Marquis goes home.”

“But his home is here? He has a house and everything,” I argued, sitting up straight. “He’s got a band here who are just starting to gain notoriety, he’s got you and I, it’s his home here.”

“It’s not like he came here on his own will,” Walt argued.

“Huh…?”

“He didn’t want to come to Germany at all,” Walt reiterated. I was quiet for a moment, brow furrowed and gears turning in my brain.

“What?” The gears didn’t do very efficient work, evidently.

“Has he not told you about all that?” Walt asked.

“No, I figured he moved here on his own will…” I replied, my voice softening.

“Oh, yeah, he doesn’t tell people all that stuff. Guess I gotta keep my lips sealed!” Walt exclaimed and pressed their cheek onto the accordion, closing their eyes.

“Wait, wait, wait, no you gotta tell me!” I said, popping onto my knees with ears perked up high and curiosity at its max.

“I really shouldn’t,” Walt insisted.

“You got to! Please Walt, come on. If you tell me I’ll do all the chores by myself tomorrow!” I bargained. Walt squinted at me for a minute.

“I’m just saying… personally I wouldn’t willingly stay in the Empire responsible for burning me alive and destroying my family…” Walt said in an exaggerated mumble, looking to the side.

“Woah… what?”

“You know Marquis’s an orphan, right? He’s been without parents since he was nine. The guy was originally born in France,” Walt explained, adjusting the collar of their shirt.

“I knew he was in some sort of foster system— I didn’t even know where he got his scar from!” I exclaimed.

“You just thought he was born like that? That’s dumb. You’re dumb.”

“No, I just never tried making assumptions,” I quickly argued. “He was actually burned?” Walt nodded.

“Yeah, Deautschria did an attack on the French shore ages ago and burned down villages, his happened to be one of them. He only told me about it once when I was 13, I think. I never asked anymore about it because he looked really scared of talking about it,” Walt explained nonchalantly.

“Jesus christ… and you said he lost his parents?” I asked. Walt nodded. The sinking feeling in my gut worsened. “That’s horrible.”

“He had a total freak out once and started crying about how he saw his parents’ and siblings’ burned corpses and had to hear them screaming while he was stuck by himself in a burning building,” Walt explained as if this was some sort of casual thing while their boney fingers tapped different keys on the accordion. I shuddered, my tail curling close to my side, my face tensing at the idea and feeling sick to my stomach. “He used to have nightmares about it and I’d know because I’d wake up and hear him talking about it in his sleep in graphic detail. I’ve heard some things I would like to not reimagine honestly.” I now had an intense urge to give Marquis a huge hug, one of those hugs where you hold onto one another a little longer than a little squeeze.

“That’s horrible,” I said, looking off whilst deep in thought, gripping my hands.

“He said he got brain damage from it and that’s why he talks in his sleep, his brain doesn’t shut off properly,” Walt added, rubbing their eyes with a yawn. I was quiet for a moment, thinking all of that over, wishing I’d known sooner before I’d made a big deal all those times he’d want to go home… yet, I was still protective of my friend.

“Why would you head back out while Deautschria’s becoming a warzone again? Wouldn’t he know better?” I thought aloud.

“Sometimes you gotta take risks,” Walt replied.

“But he’s already had experience with what Deautschria can do once, now he’s subjecting someone else to that possibility?”

“Alternatively, he knows how to fight back and doesn’t want to conform to the corrupt headman. You can’t just turn a blind eye and hide from everything. It’s not a way to live,” Walt explained,

“I just think it’s dumb, frankly. I like Winfred, he seems like a really good guy but if the Fenlish think Deautschria is so bad, why would he come here?” I asked, trying to make sense of it. Walt took a long breath and tilted their head.

“I think you need to realise that in the real world things are harsher than anything your country-boy self has seen,” Walt scoffed, yet they didn’t sound like they were mocking me, their tone was soft and understanding in a way I wasn’t used to hearing Walt. They were usually fairly sarcastic and monotone most of the time… or acting like a mad man.

“Walt I’m not an idiot, I’ve seen some shit too,” I huffed, crossing my arms, my ego hurt

“I think the worst thing you’ve witnessed by far would be the other night with Sir Rosco,” Walt replied, rather than getting high strung like I was they kept this unusual calm demeanour.

“That was the Prince of Deautschria out of his royal uniform in a fight, with me! That’s bad, that’s really bad!” I insisted, though feeling proud of myself in my chest but painfully regretful in my stomach.

“You’re lucky as hell he didn’t kill you on the spot,” Walt said, turning their face to look at me. My ears went back. “You remembered what he did to Sir Friedrich?” I nodded. That was the death of the former Alpha. It was all over the news, beheaded and disembowelled. They could barely tell it was Sir Friedrich at first because of how savagely the prince brutalised and mutilated him. Sir Rosco was 16 when he did that. It was one of those events you couldn’t forget.

“My father didn’t let me see a newspaper for a whole month…” I told them.

“That proves my point from earlier… That’s the worst thing you’ve heard of him doing, other than that, you know nothing. You’ve been sheltered,” They told me, the kindness in their voice shifting to a cautious sternness. I lowered my head, realising they may be right, but my ego was still pushing on that I was just as experienced as Mark and them.

“But that’s just Sir Rosco who’s like that,” I insisted. “....right?”

“Burton, I can’t tell you all that’s wrong in the world in one night,” Walt stated caringly, like a mother to their child. “You’ve been born into a different life than Mark and I, I suppose you should take pride in your ignorant bliss while it lasts. Enjoy the simplicity, perhaps?”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. I wasn’t used to this side of Walt. I wasn’t used to this bluntness. This sort of realness. I took a moment and my eyes wandered as my mind focused more on the inner vision than the vision provided by my eyes.

“What if I don’t want the simplicity? What if I want something more?” I asked, lifting my head, my ears high. “If there’s more to life than this than I want to see it!” I said triumphantly. Walt’s ears lifted.

“You can’t just walk into knowing more about the world,” Walt stated.

“Yes, I know that. I don’t want to be sheltered anymore. I want to see the world too Walt, and all the bad parts of it too,” I clarified with confidence. “I don’t like being the clueless country boy.”

Walt furrowed their brow for a moment, looking off. I tilted my head.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to help with that,” They said and looked over at me. I concealed a frown and gave a big sigh. “That whole mess is on you. I can only tell you when you’re being a dumbass.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… frustrating that you and Mark are on some different plane of knowledge than me. Then I’m just clueless of everything because no one tells me anything,” I complained and laid down on my bed. “Even my parents are like that! I’m clueless of everything! I feel like an idiot.”

“You are sort of an idiot to be honest.”

“That’s not very helpful, Walt.”

“I never said I was trying to be helpful.”

I groaned. “You’re so harsh, sometimes.”

“I’ll leave you with this, you’re coming from different circumstances than Mark and I,” Walt started. “You’ve always had the luxury of a permanent home, a loving family, etc. You don’t see, or have to see, the harshness.”

“Still harsh,” I murmured.

“You’ve got to be harsh sometimes, Burton. You’ve seen the world through rose-tinted glasses your whole life. Not everything works out for everyone. Sometimes you have to consider what’s lost and what’s gained,” They explained to me. I laid back in bed and furrowed my brow. “No ones mad at you, per say, it takes time to figure out how to do that. Sometimes being selfish is just natural. That’s all I’ve got for you tonight,” they finished, tapping their fingers on the red accordion.

“Hm.”

“I’m getting sleepy.” Walt stated, picking their chin up from the accordion.

“Then go to sleep,” I replied. They squinted. “What?” I asked.

“I’m gonna sleep in here.”

“Uh, alright,” I replied. “Want a blanket?” I asked. Walt nodded. I wondered if the reason they suddenly wanted to sleep in my room was due to me discovering their feathers that morning. I didn’t feel like getting up so I tossed them a blanket from my bed.

“Thanks,” They replied. I gave them a nod. “Your house is spooky at night.” Walt wrapped themself up in the blanket and got themself situated on the hardwood floor. They scooted the accordion to my dresser. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be able to sleep on such a hard surface, but Walt was special. Although, they were growing on me already as they got themself laid face-down on the floor. As much as their bluntness was off-putting, I found it endearing in a weird way. I suppose that was just the “Walt experience.”

“You’re weird Walt, but I like talking to you. Thanks,” I said, reaching over to the lamp on my nightstand.

“That’s good because it looks like we’re going to be stuck together for a while,” They replied with a yawn.

“Yeah, it looks like we are… but I like you. You’re a cool person,” I said and clicked the lamp off.

“You’re a cool person too Burt. Even if you’re kind of annoying, I can see why Mark likes you,” They said back.

“You’re annoying sometimes too. But, aren’t we all a bit annoying at the end of the day?” I asked.

“Hmmm I guess. At least you know you’re annoying.”

“Self awareness is very important,” I replied, getting myself cozy underneath the covers.

“Yes! Exactly! Finally someone said it!” Walt exclaimed triumphantly. I smiled.

“Go to bed, Walt,” I rolled my eyes and rolled onto my stomach like I usually do to go to bed. It was sort of funny to me that both Walt and I slept the same way.

Instead of peacefully drifting to sleep, I found myself staring at my wall. I still had that uneasy feeling in my gut. However, now I was thinking over what Walt said to me. My mind was racing. That was an awful lot to process for one night. I could hear wind rustling through the trees outside my window. What was I missing? What was in this world that I was apparently blind too? Asking Walt wasn’t necessarily the best route. Not only were they blunt, but as I’d learned, weirdly poetic about it. Were they just desensitised to all of it? Damn, if I was seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses, what the hell wasn’t I seeing? My mind continued to race on. There was nothing I could do to tame the rampant thoughts in my head even as I tried my absolute hardest to clear my mind. I laid there sleepless in the dark room.

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