#pretty sure this is one of the more left leaning fucking sites on here motherfucker.

[snekdood]

stop blaming people blame their governments

stop blaming people blame their governments

for fucks sake STOP BLAMING PEOPLE BLAME THEIR FUCKIN GOVERNMENTS

[groovycatcollector]

The Wonderfully Right, And The Horribly Wrong (Daryl Dixon Love story)

Summery: After losing her brother and his wife, one young woman is left on her own, caring for a new born and trying to survive. After being taken in to a community after years of mistrust, how will she adapt, and what effect will a certain archer have on her. Starts the last episode of season 5

Warnings: slow-burn, angst, eventual fluff, violence, strong language. ptsd, age gape

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x OFC

AU:I am so sorry this is so long I’ve been in quarantine for seven weeks

Chapter 10

My ass was damp agent the wet garden chair while I brought the beer bottle back up to my lips, must have been an odd site, me sitting in a satin blue bridesmaid dress with a cheap bottle in my hand. The wedding was still merry and loud long after night fell. It was a lovely wedding, and now three of the seven Price children were gone and married. I gulped down the bitter drink (given to me by the eldest Mae, who now can’t drink thanks to getting knocked up) hearing Baba walking stick before I heard her call my name

“Natasha” only she called me that “you hardly tired now solnyshkuh” She sat next to me on the damp bench, ruining her purple dress.

She reached a hand out for me to hold once she was settled and I held it “No Baba, just taking a break” She hummed, shaking my hand affectionately. “Sonya found a boy” She remarked, her accent still thick, she only moved to America in her twenties. She didn’t sound pleased about the prospects of Sonya finding a dance partner “He’s too ugly for her”

He wasn’t ugly in truth, even I was a bit weak at the knees for him. He was Sherry’s mysterious cousin from upstate. He was tall with high cheekbones, and short black hair. He was partnered to lead Sonya down the aisle and took great joy in seeing identical twins. We chatting for a while before dinner all three of us, but I quickly excused myself to after Sonya gave me a side-glance meaning: “Please fuck off I want to sit on his face”. So I excused myself to go play with Florence’s new-born Daisy.

I chuckled and handed her the bottle, offering her a sip. I was closest to her, she choice mine and Sonya’s name, which of course it had to be from a Russian old book. Irena Katina Nikolaevna Lebedev was probably the proudest person I know, even prouder to still to be Russian. But Irena Katina Nikolaevna Lebedev didn’t like pretty boys, she didn’t trust them, and my twin had just found one to dance with at our brothers wedding.

“You” She took a swig, still holding my hand. “You find a strong man, with nice arms” I looked at her, her head covered in her shawl, and underneath I knew was a jungle of curls that travelled through the family. “No soft’s like Ray, a good man, perhaps rich man would be nice” Thin lips that often spat out scaving remarks curled into a smile. “Now come” Baba bent forward and allowed her walking stick to prop her up.

Despite the hair, the name and the honesty I have inherited from her, it was the eyes that I and Sonya got. Big dark eyes, but hers like looked at the world like she knew its secrets “I get you real drink, we are Russian, no Americans” I laughed before linking arms with her and proceeded to get hammered.

 Last time I was in a church I was in blue satin, now I stood in a white shirt, holding a small child in an onesie. Maggie, Glenn and Father Gabriel stood around to the holy water. I felt kind of awkward being back in a church for some reason, well more than awkward, I was kinda panicking if I’m being honest. I had barley decided on a name, why the fuck did I always zone out when they got mushy.

“What do you think?” Beau asked, leaning agents the fireplace looking fondly at his girlfriend chatting to our Grandpa. My curly head barley reached the mantel only being thirteen. “She’s real pretty” I said, and he, still not taking his eyes off of her, smiled. My no nonsense older brother finally got bit with the love bug. Florence and Mary-Grace already knew Noelle from school, but it was her first time meeting the rest of us; Dwight, the parents, grandparents and the kid sisters (that’s were me and Sonya came in)

Her dark hair stood out in the room like a sore thumb in a family of blondes and redheads. Mary-Grace and her bright flames of hair took Mae’s place next to Baba by the fire now she had moved out and gotten married. Beau, being the third oldest in the house at nineteen, stood a good foot and a half taller than me, with curls brighter than mine and Sonya’s, and blue eyes like my daddy.

Our house was really only one room that wasn’t used for sleeping, were we all were now. It acted as kitchen, sitting room and dining room all on top of each other since Baba and grandpa had to move in.

“How in the name of Moses did you get a girl like that Beau?” Sonya came sneaking up behind us “Seriously man she’s a ten and you are an ugly motherfucker” My image remarked crossing her arms over her chest. Beau simply rolled his eyes “language” he muttered before pushing her in the shoulder.

Everything was all a blur as Gabriel was mumbling Latin from a book, which in fairness is pretty hard to read considering it’s a dead language. “Name of guardian?” He asked finally looking up at me after taking the boy from my hands.  None of this felt real for some reason, I felt like I was in a dream. I shuffled my feet and licked my lips, my body getting nervous, deep breath Nina.

Pulling my shoulders back I announced myself “Natasha Ilyinichna Irena Lebedev Price” I heard a faint “Oh yeah I forgot she was Russian” from Maggie, forcing myself to smile at her.

Still not looking at my nephew or the priest. I focused on the cross behind his head, I was anxious to get this done with, to make sure he had sort of protection. My eyes darted around the room as Maggie and Glenn were called to pour the holy water over the baby’s head, both giving me an odd look and asking if I was alright.

 “What do you think of it all?” Sonya whispered in a hush as we lay in the dark, both of us trying to ignore the sound of our parents shouting. Parents shouting at the decision Sonya had made. “Think of what?” I asked, tucking the bedsheet up to my chin. She sat up in the double bed we shared. “Don’t fucking play me Nina” Her voice was harsh and bolder then usual, for a girl so reserved and gentile, she was pissed.  

She sat up and turned the lamp on, making Mary-Grace groan and tousle from the other side of the room. She sat up and crossed her arms, her mouth twitching “Well?”

Groaning I sat up too, not wanting to have this conversation. “What do you want me to say?” She was looking for a fight and I knew it. Her sporadic hand gestures gave her away “What you think? What do you think I should do?” Sonya’s eyes welled up with tears. I sighed “I don’t know Sonya, it’s a big decision”

She wanted to move to New York and live with Florence, who had a townhouse with her husband and two kids. Sonya had won a scholarship in the last pageant, and wanted to be an architect… and leave. New York sounded good, fun. Just far away. “Why do you even want to leave?” I asked with a sight, not understanding her longing to leave the safety of trees that surrounded the town.

“What do you mean why do I want to leave?” She looked at me dumbfounded, and a heavy air set between us. “If you were given the opportunity to get out you would too, I don’t want to be sewn to your hip for the rest of my life”. I raised my eyebrow at that, “You’re stuck to my hip?” I scoffed “Fuck off Sonya don’t be such a cunt” My arms got a chill looking at her face contort trying to control her rage.

“I think you’re jealous” She scaved, leaning forward into my face “I think you’re freaking out that you just realized you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing with your life” I leaned over her, not breaking eye contact, and turned off the lamp. My heart racing at her words, wanting to shout and kick and bite for what she said. But I didn’t. “I think you’re freaking out because you don’t know you who are without me” I whispered.

She stared dumbfounded, knowing I was right. Neither of us really knew who we were without the other. Didn’t matter if he had different interests, who liked pageants or cross country. Who was closer to Baba or Grandpa. We didn’t know who we were without each other.

I turned away from her pulling the bedsheet around me “Night Sonya”

“I aint going with you guys tomorrow, I don’t want to listen to you all the way to Roanoke”

 “Do you have a name ?” Maggie asked, just as they were about to pour the water on his head. Snapping back into reality, looking at the kid for the first time since we got into the church. “Uhh” oh shit yeah a name “Cain” I said, suddenly remembering “Cain Lyova Price” I forced a smile, not really listening.

Feeling a pang of grief for my brother that I hadn’t allowed myself to feel. I watched them together drunk his head into the water, whispering prayers of protection. And finally he would be protected, not in this world but in death. I closed my eyes feeling a shudder down my spine, God don’t let him die.

My brothers child, that stupid bastard should be here not me. He could have given him a good name. I mean Cain? What kind of stupid name was that?

I felt all the anger and grief bubble up, making my chest break into silent sobs. No. Not now. I can’t feel it now. I smiled, whipping the tear that had risen in my eye, trying to pass it off as tears of joy before hugging the tree.

I take the kid- Cain, back into my arms, before smiling and saying quickly a thanks and how I had to get to the infirmary.

 **

 The infirmary was as it usually was, quiet. Today we had the riveting excitement of Eugene asking if a mole was cancerous, which it wasn’t as he’d had it for a few years and had not grown, moved or changed colour or shape.

“You okay?” Denise asked me just as our ‘patient’ left. I smiled picking up the bab-Cain and shaking a bottle of formula. “Yeah fine” I lied with a smile, not wanting to acknowledge the tightness I felt in my throat for my brother. The doctor narrowed her eyes, before sitting down in front of her cheat sheet. She was just about to open her mouth to argue when I interrupted “Yah know what I haven’t had in a while?” She knew she didn’t have to answer, my nerves giving me the gift of small talk.

“A good piss up” I stated, nudging the bottle into Cain’s mouth. I laughed to myself while Denise just looked at me confused. “Remember the boxes of moonshine we found? Do you think they’d miss just one?” My colleague stood frowning “Nine we can’t steal, we need them to disinfect wounds” Her scolding me, though not sounding entirely too agents the idea. I rolled my eyes as she came closer, putting a hand on the baby’s foot.

“So what did you name him?” She changed the subject, looking up at me and pushing her glasses back up her nose. “Cain” I whispered looking down at him. “Or Lyova, havn’t decided wich one I want to call him” Denise hummed looking back at him, whos hands were grasped to the bottle, gulping like it was his last ever feed.

“Lyova, havn’t heard that one before” She looked up at me “Russian, for Lion” I explained. She nodded before moving back to study her cheat sheet. “Makes sense if he has hair like yours”. I faked laughed, looking back down, his daddy had lighter hair, more white then mine.

A few hours passed, the normal routine had taken over when Carol walked in with her usual chirpy smile. “Hey girls” she sang, placing a basket on the operating table. I still didn’t trust her, felt like she wasn’t being honest for some reason, no one survives out there and still comes there smiling and cheerful. I figured she was a bit like me in that way, full of shit.

Carol turned to look at me, one hand on her hip “So, what did you call him?” jeeze everyone wants to know this kids name. “Cain Lyova” I smiled back, a smile equally full of shit of the one I was reciprocating. “Oh Lyova, that’s beautiful” She cooed, leaning down to look at him sitting on the floor shaking a toy.  “It was my great-uncles” I noted, not too keen on mention that he was fighting for the soviets in Word War II.

I smiled at her, the colour on her neat jumper suited her, a pale blue. “I was thinking” She straightened up and faced me “Why don’t we celebrate?” She gave a little hmmp after indicating it was more of a request then a question. I raised an eyebrow, maybe she was listening in before smiling. “It’s not every day we’ve something to celebrate, could invite one or two people over and have a drink tonight” shaking my head I let out a sigh. Well I can’t believe it my dreams just came true. “Ma’am I think you read my mind”

 I woke up to the sound of the creaks of heavy footsteps followed by the door squeaking open. It was cold, and Sonya was snuggled up agents by back protecting herself agents the snow that fell softly on the window. My first speculation was that it was some sick murderer dressed up as Santa to kill us, it being Christmas Eve but soon decided that it was just Daddy going for a cigarette.

Just wanting to calm my nerves I pulled myself free of my sister, and immediately regretting leaving the warmth of the bed once the sting of the December air. Pulling my shoulders up close to my neck to try keep the warmth from leaving my body, I opened the door of our bedroom into the sitting room to see the front door wide open letting the snow in. Rushing to see what is was I ran to the door and peeped out, scared shitless and freezing my tits off.

What I saw gave me an icy shock of what I would never get out of my head. Baba stood, bare foot in her white nightgown in the snow. Her curly hair down, reaching past her waist as she fell to her knees and let out a shriek. I turned and grabbed a blanket from the couch and ran out to get her.

“Baba” I called stepping down from the porch “Come back inside its freezing”. She didn’t turn to look at me. Just sat in the snow looking up at the pine trees.

“Baba” I called again, a little softer, I was only a few feet away from her now. Baba sat motionless, her knees now either side of her. I could hear her muttering in Russian, something about a sister

She was rocking back and forth, not breaking her eyes from the trees“Net net ne ona, ne snova ne moya sestra, pozhaluysta, ne moya sestra”. I placed a hand on her shoulder, making her stop rocking.

I cupped my hand under her armpits pulling her up before wrapping the blanket around her shoulders “C’mon Baba, let’s get you inside”.

 Oh yeah I was drunk. Glenn, Daryl, Aaron, Spencer and I may have ended up playing a drinking game. Turns out I’ve done a lot of things and slept with a lot of people because I lost pretty hard. Also turns out, I speak a bit of Russian when I’m drunk, didn’t even know I knew Russian that well, the more you know I suppose.

One or two people according to Carol turned out to be most of Alexandria, not that I minded, it gave me a break from the baby because so many people wanted to hold him.  I liked Carol, even if she was full of shit, I liked her, and I respect people who do what they can to survive. Though, seeing her be all flirty with Tobin was a bit gross. Then all of a sudden I looked around the room and everyone was flirting with everyone.

Anyways, now someone has Cain or Lyova or whatever to fuck I named him, and I was lying on the grass, pretty shitfaced. I liked looking at the stars, one good thing about this godforsaken shithole with dead sons’o’bitches walking around is that we have more stars.

I liked stars. I put my palms down flat to the ground to try steady myself from feeling so dizzy. The other hand rested carefully on my bottle, quiet comfortable on my own. Not wanting to be in a room with so many people. Last time I was in a room celebrating something was with my family, and now they’re all dead.

I heard a whistle behind me and I craned my head back to see, still not knowing who it was I raised a hand waving hi. “Hey kid” ahh the familiar grumblings of Mr. Dixon. “Mr. Dixon how nice of you to join me” I said politely as he stood above my head, he looked confused, but his cheeks were pink.

“Whacha doin’ out here?” Jeeze straight to the point. He was standing pretty close, his feet barley a centimetre from my head. I thought for a moment before answer “I went for a stroll, thought it could sober me up a bit” I was being honest. “Didn’t think I’d screwed so many  people” I laughed to myself, sitting up a bit to bring the bottle to my lips.

Daryl sat down with a sigh “I think you’d had enough” he went to take the bottle out of my hand but I pulled it away, cradling it like a baby “Heyyyyyy hold on a minute Mr. Dixon” He rolled his eyes, before looking away and looking back again. I liked his eyes, even if he acted like he was all tough his eyes were soft, and sweet.

 “So, why Cain?” He lay next to me, our shoulders barley brushing and my stomach suddenly did a summer sault “Well I thought I was being kinda clever” I slurred, my mouth not willing to articulate. “You know the story of Cain and Able?” One hand was rested on the bottle that hung loosely by my side, while the other was thrown up in the air, flopping like crazy.

“Nah, I don’t believe in that bible stuff” He said, moving his hands to rest on his abdomen, I glanced over at him “So who was Cain and Able” He inquired looking at me. I smiled to myself, feeling a sudden purpose in the years my Mama spent telling us the stories.

“They were brothers” I said simply “But when Cain killed Able God cursed him with immortality, no one could hurt him; he would forever be in divine protection” I trailed off, my arm still upright stilled.

“And I was hoping, with me killing my brother God would grant my Cain protection in this fuckin’ curse of the world” I sighed, feeling the guilt and remorse I had been keeping busy to ignore swung  up. I dropped my hand.

“’m sorry” He said and I turned to meet his face. “I had to kill my brother too” I’m not sure if it was the liquor or the grief, but I swear I could feel the ground pulsing beneath me. I looked at the archers’ face, all the lines and scares that told his story presented so plainly but all upstaged by the soul in his eyes. I suddenly felt like I knew him, or wanted to know him at.

For as much as we talked about our home lives it was only pre-apocalypse, never after. “I went out looking for him and found him as a walker, it really fucked with me for a while” he explained “He cut his own hand off right at the start, so he had this” it was his turn to lift his forearm “Badass knife put on in it’s place” He smiled, I like his smile, it made me smile too.

Daryl dropped his arm, and his smile. He turned his head back up to the sky but I didn’t look away, not yet. I decided to share my tale “I was on a run when he was born, and something must have gone wrong” Now I turned my face away, feeling my throat welling up, I barley thought about what happened, let alone talked about it.

“He-Cain must have then been quiet, because when I came in Beau was cradling Noel” I took a deep breath “Who was covered in her own blood, and I had just opened the door when he’d slit his own throat” My voice broke, and the corner of my eyes were stinging with tears. “But the fool didn’t go deep enough so he was just sitting there bleeding out with his wife” I let the bottle drop, not caring anymore.

I felt Daryl grab my hand, and I squeezed it tight. I let out a laugh, trying to brush off the sudden outburst of realizing that was the first time I’ve said his name in six months “Sorry, guess I’m just a sap” Jesus this is embarrassing, at least I didn’t vomit on his, yet.

I felt him squeeze my hand and I looked at him “You ain’t a sap, he was your brother” I smiled at him, grateful. I turned my head back up to look at the glimmers of the night sky. Feeling my throat well up again, I coughed, trying to keep it down.

I listened to the crickets, and the songbirds, and the thumping of my chest before remembering I was still holding Daryl’s hand.

“Yah know” I said, looking at him again “This is real romantic” My chest, previously stifling sobs was now bursting with laugher. “You and me” He said, smiling “Looking at the stars, holding hands, swappin’ stories about how we killed our brothers”

The stupidity and seriousness of the situation spurred my laughter on more

For the first time in nearly four years it was completely safe, I didn’t feel like I had to be ready to attack, or run or suddenly become a mom of a kid I didn’t make.

 It was just him and me, lying in the dry grass, looking at the starry sky.

Tags:https://tmblr.co/mJ8tAevvokZdRi9HxEHeCrw

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven

 Part eight Part nine Part eleven

[forestwater87]

This is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever been insanely proud of. I don't even know where to begin with this one. I just think it's cute as fuck.

Heavily inspired by (and maybe a little ripped off of) PadalickingGood's RT Hybrid AU. Their art is AMAZING, and their hybrid dorks are absolutely precious. (Not gonna lie, totally stole some ideas off of them, such as many of the animal ideas and the idea of trimming horns.

Anyway, the fact that David is a cat is entirely the fault of Pheebadohoh and KatykatUniverse, who made the cutest damn catboys and broke my insanely long bunny/dog tie with the need to make him a kitten.

ALSO I’D JUST LIKE TO MAKE IT ABUNDANTLY CLEAR THAT @kittensneezi IS LITERALLY THE ONLY REASON THIS IS BEING PUBLISHED INSTEAD OF LIVING BURIED IN MY WIPS FOREVER. BLAME HER. SHUN HER.

Sometimes Gwen was convinced that God thought He was real funny.

"God damn it motherfucker . . ." She yanked at the comb that was caught, wincing as it tugged but wouldn't budge. "David!"

Yeah, God was a hell of a comedian. Because what would a sheep be without wool?

David burst into the room, half-in and half-out of his shirt. "Is everything okay?" he asked, frantically trying to wriggle into his clothes and hurry to her side at the same time. Tripping over his tail, he stumbled forward, catching himself on one of her horns and nearly sending them both to the floor. "Gah!"

"Sorry," she said, helping him to his feet. "I didn't mean to make it sound like an emergency or anything, I just . . ." She sighed, pulling at the comb with no better luck. "Got stuck again."

His ears perked up. "Oh, no problem!" He hopped up onto the desk behind her and settled into a crouch, flexing his fingers to extend his nails. Gingerly sliding the needle-thin point of his index claw into her wool, he teased apart the strands until the comb was freed, then retracted his claws and fluffed her hair. "There we go! All better!"

"Thanks." She glanced down at herself to make sure everything was more or less in order and gestured for him to get off her desk. "Come on, let's go wake the zoo."

"All right!" As they walked toward the campers' tents, he gently patted her horn and said, "I didn't hurt it, right?"

She shrugged. "Nah, I've got a tough skull. Though . . . aren't cats supposed to be graceful?"

"I couldn't see! No one's graceful when they're blind!"

Rounding up the kids was never especially fun, though at least when they were tired it was easier to keep track of them. Even Nikki wasn't up to much this early in the morning, barely snapping at David's tail before settling in for breakfast.

THUNK.

"Fart nards!"

THUNK.

"Stupid door!"

David glanced toward the entrance to the mess hall, his eyes widening. "Gwen, Nurf's h —"

"On it." She got up, leaving her food behind, and went to where the boy was twisting and floundering, trying to get inside without catching his horns on the doorway. "Can I trim them now , Nurf?" she asked, leaning against the wall and watching him snort and scuff at the ground with his sneakers.

"I don't —" THUNK "— like —" THUNK "— people touching —" THUNK "— my horns!"

"No one does." After a few more seconds he stopped, panting, his tail flicking back and forth. There were some pretty impressive gouges in the frame, and Gwen raised her eyebrows. "But it's just gonna be worse the longer you wait."

He glared down at the ground, crossing his arms. "Fine," he muttered, tugging at his septum ring sullenly.

Gwen looked back at David. "Hey, bring us food when you get a chance? We'll be out back." She liked trimming inside, but there was no way those horns were getting into their cabin, so she settled him down on a rock behind the mess hall and went into her room to get the supplies.

She pawed through her stuff, wincing. Normally she'd shine a flashlight through the horn to see (and avoid) blood vessels as much as possible, but that was for maybe half an inch at most. Nurf'd never been trimmed in his life — and to be fair, she couldn't imagine anyone getting close enough to try without getting gored — and she was going to have to take off a lot more than that.

"All right," she said, setting the box down next to Nurf's rock and running a hand along one of his horns, "this is probably gonna bleed a lot, but it shouldn't hurt. You're off the hook for camp activities, though — don't want you fainting, so you'll be in our cabin most of the day."

"Fine." He looked and sounded angry, but she noticed the way his leg kept bouncing and his hands trembled. "Whatever, I don't even care."

"Close your eyes. It'll be less scary that way."

"Shut up! I'm not scared!" But he did as she said, screwing his eyes shut and taking a deep, shaky breath.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't quick, but eventually she'd cut his horns to a manageable length and gotten the bleeding to die down. "Okay," she said with a sigh of relief, gently bandaging the ends, "remember they'll grow back, and if you do it more often they'll look and feel better. It's like a bad haircut, all right?"

Nurf opened his eyes and gaped in shock; the grassy clearing looked like the site of a gruesome murder, bits of bone and huge splashes of blood staining the ground around them. "What the — !" He climbed to his feet and wobbled just a bit, letting her take his elbow and guide him over to lean against the wall.

"I know, I know." Gwen rested a hand on his upper back, hoping she sounded soothing. But she wasn't very good at this kind of thing. Where was David when she needed him?

"Oh my gosh, what the heck happened back here?!"

Oh. There he was.

David's knuckles were white around the tray of food he'd brought to them, the glasses of orange juice-like product trembling in his unsteady hands. His face was pale and cheesy, his hair had puffed out on end, and his pupils dilated into slits.

Well, so much for soothing. She took the tray, ignoring the way he hissed and jerked away from her bloody fingers. "Thanks, David. Can you get Nurf some clean clothes? I'm gonna make sure he eats something."

"I-I . . . um, okay." She'd never seen him this shaken, and it would've been entertaining if she didn't need him to be a functioning adult. "I'll . . . be right back, then."

Once he was gone, Gwen handed Nurf the tray. "At least get through the toast and juice so you don't pass out."

"I won't," he grumbled, but nibbled at the toast and kept his gaze turned away from the bloody patch of grass.

After a few minutes David returned, keeping his eyes on his feet. "I'm, um, here. With clothes."

"Awesome. Take Nurf to the showers and then bring him back to the cabin. I'm gonna change into something that looks a little less Carrie ."

The rest of the day was spent in an armchair, watching old cartoons with Nurf, both of them trying to ignore the way his horns were jagged stubs. He wouldn't look at them, not even when she periodically unwrapped them to put more anti-bleeding gel on the ends, and when she heard the faintest sniffling from his side of the room, she tossed the remote at him without looking and let him turn the volume up.

David wandered in as the sun was setting, bringing them both dinner (they'd wordlessly agreed it wasn't a good idea to leave Nurf alone with their personal belongings, so Gwen was confined to the cabin). He set the tray down and stretched out on the floor, rolling onto his back and watching the television upside-down.

"Nurf?" He glanced up at her with a grunt, and she continued, "I think you're in good shape. Eat something and I'll walk you back to the tents?"

"Yeah, fine, I don't care." He picked at his dinner, frowning, and she suspected the Quartermaster's spaghetti and crickets wasn't the only reason.

Gwen glanced down at David, who met her eyes and shrugged as well as he could while sprawled on the carpet. She rubbed at her own horns, poking the dull tips thoughtfully. "You know, I should probably trim these down too, before I forget. It's been a while." They both turned to her with varying levels of wariness. She met Nurf's gaze, trying to keep her face and voice casual. "Would you mind waiting around a little longer so I can get that done? It won't take long."

"I . . ." He shrugged, still looking sullen. "Whatever."

"Great!" She stood and stretched before heading to the bathroom, making sure to leave the door open. After a second she texted David: 'Come in so he doesn't feel weird about being curious.'

He replied almost instantly: 'but what if he steals something while we're both in there?'

Gwen didn't even bother replying, just cleared her throat loud enough to travel into the next room. Getting the hint, she heard David mumble, "Excuse me!" A few moments later his head appeared in the doorframe. He hopped onto the lip of the sink as though that wasn't the most inconvenient place he could perch. "So why are we doing this?" he asked, drawing his knees to his chest and cocking his head to the side, his tail wrapping around him like a shawl.

"You'll see." She kept her focus on the flashlight in her hands, flicking off the overhead light and shining it through her left horn. (She didn't need to; after enough years of caring for them she'd more or less memorized where the blood vessels ended. But just in case Nurf decided to wander in, she wanted to make sure she showed the whole process.) Marking the place she wanted to cut with a black marker, she turned the lights on just in time to hear clumping, heavy footsteps.

David winced, shifting back as she reached for her trimmer. "Sh-should I move out of the way?"

"Nah, it's not gonna bleed, don't worry." Despite himself, he leaned in closer as she began to work, looking fascinated. "You can ask questions," she added, keeping her eyes on David but really talking to the silent figure in the doorway.

He finally seemed to pick up on what they were doing and scrambled for something to say. "So . . . uh, how often do you have to cut them? I've never noticed."

"I try to get it over with before showering, just in case I nick something," she replied, "but like once a month, ish? About the same time I shear my hair."

"And it doesn't . . . hurt?"

She shook her head. "Once, at like fourteen, I was embarrassed and tried to cut them all the way off. Didn't get halfway through one before I passed out from the pain. But it's like your claws; fine as long as you don't go too deep. Though sheep horns are a little different from, say, a bull's, which'll probably bleed a little every time." Setting aside the trimmer, she filed the end until it was smooth and rounded.

"Why're you doing that?" Nurf blurted out. He didn't look away as the counselors turned to him, but his jaw tightened, and he reached up and brushed the bandaged ends of one of his own horns. "Why didn't you do it to mine?"

Gwen continued working, focusing on making a straight cut. "Figured I'd wait until it was a little less raw, you know? It wouldn't hurt, but it'd be pretty gross and might fuck up —" David winced and she rolled her eyes, "— mess up the healing. I don't know enough about bull horns to be cool with risking it." He didn't reply, watching her carefully as she finished and cleaned up. "Ready to get out of here, kid?"

"Don't call me that," he muttered, but followed her to the front of the cabin.

"W-would you like me to walk him back?" David asked. He usually was the one who'd do this kind of thing; Gwen wasn't known for being especially nurturing, let alone going out of her way to escort one of their more difficult children to bed. But David was still looking a little pale, his eyes darting nervously to Nurf's horns and quickly away, so she dismissed him with a raised hand and led the way to the campers' tents.

They walked in silence for the most part, which Gwen had expected. Nurf wasn't chatty on the best of days, and this certainly hadn't been one of those. Aside from a muttered obscenity when the Quartermaster flitted low overhead, the boy was quiet.

It was only after she'd bid him goodnight and turned to leave that he spoke, so mumbled and fast that she almost missed it. "It won't be that bad every time, right?"

She shook her head. "Just be smart and don't go another 11 years between cuts, okay?"

"Do you think . . . maybe, next month . . ."

"I'll teach you how, yeah. And I'll ask QM to pick up the stuff you'll need." If it was any other kid she would've ruffled his hair, but even with his horns shortened and stubby, she didn't want to get too close. "Goodnight, Nurf."

David was curled up in a ball on her bed when she returned, his eyes glittering in the light from the hallway. "Everything all right?" he asked, stretching and rolling onto his side as she came in.

"Yeah." Shoving him over so she could sit down, she plopped onto the mattress and started untying her shoes. "He's freaked out, but he'll get over it. And I can't blame him — freaked me out a little, too. Lot more blood than I'd expected." She was quiet for a few moments, waiting for him to agree (and admit how unnerved he'd been), but when she looked over his eyes were glued to her shoelaces, the pink tip of his tongue poking out between his lips. "Oh, for Christ's sake, here ." She swiveled so that she was laying back against her pillows and set her feet on his lap, letting him untie her shoes and play with the laces. "You're fucking ridiculous."

He blushed, but glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned. "You did a good job today," he said, swinging one of the laces around his index finger. "I'm really proud of you!"

"Why?" Gwen snorted, shaking her head. "I ruined my boots," she glared pointedly at the sneakers she'd been forced to wear instead, "I turned the back of the mess hall into a swamp of evil — almost making you throw up, by the way — and you were left alone the whole day." She flashed him a sarcastic "okay" sign. "Real stellar performance all around."

"You related to Nurf," he replied with a shrug. "That's not easy."

"Eh, thick skulls gotta stick together." He chuckled, finally done with her shoes and sliding them off her feet before laying down next to her. "Besides, it's . . . shitty, having someone fuck with your horns. Especially when you're away from your parents and the person doing it doesn't really know anything about bull anatomy." She hooked an arm around his neck and gently scratched behind his ears, smiling as he melted into her side with a purr. "I felt bad, I guess."

"I didn't know it was that scary," he mumbled against her neck, growing drowsy from the fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry."

She kissed him on the forehead. "It's fine. Beats having a giant tail, at least. I still can't believe you've never closed that thing in a door."

"Just like another arm." His tail came up and clumsily flicked her nose, making her sputter and laugh. "Hard to forget it's there."

Fighting the urge to shove the fuzzy limb out of her face (she'd learned quickly that some things were too sensitive to be touched without good reason), she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pulled him closer until he was laying half on top of her. "Shove me away when you wanna get up," she said; he usually couldn't sleep more than a few hours at a time, and spent most of the night prowling.

He gave a sleepy hum of agreement and licked her nose before curling up and falling asleep.