first of all, how dare you

we are like birds of a feather, we are two hearts thrown together

Remi lands in a flurry of feathers, talons curling around the crinkled packet as he digs in with his beak. The crackers are strange in texture, and even stranger in taste—salty and artificial, not at all suited to the hawk’s tongue. Still, a prize is a prize, and the Bastion nibbles stubbornly, crunching just enough to make it sound like victory.

Mm. Delicious, he lies through the bond, projecting the smugness of someone who absolutely didn’t just get played. Nutritious. Satisfying. I feel so powerful. 

The luxere thundering off through the underbrush gets a flick of his sharp gaze. Ronin’s tail bobs with every bound—fluffy, bouncing, far too pleased with itself. Remi narrows his eyes.

The next moment he’s aloft again, the crackers abandoned in a mess of crumbs and beak-holes. His wings slice through the filtered light of the Wildwood canopy, weaving expertly through branches with all the predator’s grace Ronin lacks in his current form. Higher and higher, then banking down, Remi begins the hunt anew—eyes trained on that familiar white backside flashing between trees.

Don’t trip, he calls sweetly. I’d hate for Sir It to fall on his antlers.

THE BASTION

we will be forever as one, my brother under the sun

RONIN

You are the most powerful, Ronin croons back through the Attuned bond, tossing his head majestically and springing over a fallen log as if it's nothing. And I still managed to tag you. So there. Take that, and so on. 

He knows that Remi will be in hot pursuit of him in mere moments, but it still feels so good to run that the Knight can't find it in himself to be too worried about being instantly tagged back. Every muscle screams with glee, the breeze turning cool as it whips through antlers and fur, the drum of his hooves on the soft earth a gentle, echoing thunder at the core of the Wildwood.

Swerving to take a less well-travelled path - and hoping that the thickets of branch and scrub will make it more difficult for the Bastion to fly so swiftly through the forest, Ronin feels for the first time in a long time as though the Greatwood is home. It's a memory, but one that runs deep like the roots of an old tree, and he settles into the sway and rustle of the trees as if finally remembering their rhythm.

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

So ThErE, comes the fond sigh through the Attuned bond, feathered with affection no less intense for the frustration at its core.

Above, Remi tilts his wings to ride the narrow channel of wind slicing between the trees, but it’s clear that Ronin’s gamble is paying off. The moment the Knight ducks into the overgrown, under-travelled path, Remi’s clean line through the canopy collapses into a mess of twisted branches, clawing vines, and low-slung boughs.

The hawk gives a low, frustrated cry.

Rather than crash headlong into a tangle of leaves and twigs, Remi tucks his wings and dives, shifting mid-plummet so that where a bird once soared, a man now lands in a crouch among the roots. His curls are windswept, his grin sharp, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that speaks of the thrill of the chase and the deeper pull beneath it—the way Ronin’s memory is stitched into the very soul of this place, and the way Remi can’t help but follow that thread like it leads him home.

Straightening with a flex of muscle and magic held just barely in check, the Bastion breaks into a sprint. The trees already tripped you up once, he calls through the bond. Enjoy your frolicking while you can.

and I said "only ever other memory"

RONIN

The trees tripped me up when I was a clumsy oaf on two legs, Ronin corrects; his mental voice isn't out of breath, but the exhilaration in it is as audible as the rush of adrenaline and joy that sails through the bond to Remi. Now I'm built for the woods. I can see why you were so happy to climb around in the trees. 

Alas, neither raccoon or hawk have the charging speed necessary to get after Ronin in his current shape, though both men know Remi has another in his vast arsenal of shifts that he could use. One that, whilst not exactly what it had been once, is still very familiar indeed prowling amid these trees. Whether or not Remi decides to use it is up to him, of course - in the meantime, Ronin leaps over a half-fallen tree, hooves barely skimming the bark, and lands in a slower trot.

Would you like to forfeit? he asks, smug and baiting.

He said "I bet you don't remember me"

Oh, the Knight is baiting him now, and Remi’s delight is a living thing—bright and biting, like the air after a summer storm. Oh, I seeeee. The bond hums with amusement, even as the forest blurs past him, each stride faster than the last. Stumbling around as a man is embarrassing, but frolicking like some glorified deer isn’t?

He could shift. Gods, he wants to. The lion hums beneath his skin, all muscle and purpose and a hunger that’s got nothing to do with teeth. This forest has seen him wear that skin a hundred times—when he was angry, when he was grieving, when he was alive enough to be dangerous. But now?

Now he’s not angry. He’s laughing.

The Bastion’s pace never falters. But his grin sharpens, and the bond tightens between them like a coil ready to spring. You know better than to even ask, husband.

Pausing, Remi tilts his head, listening and watching, before setting out in a sprint.

You want to be caught. There will be no fun in it for either of us if I just give up.

So saying he picks up the pace, senses shifted enough to guide him even as he navigates the Wildwood on two legs.

~FIN

and I said "only ever other memory"