Dictionary of my Heart

Ketet: a swear

Tejak: sing

Tuyyan: sorry

Kuom: loud

Ja: signifier to make something more

Vettuj: red

Araverej: forever-rain, or rain/storm that seems never to end

Yamnay: flyer, friend, companion 

Kheekjak: sibling

Yamkeek: False sibling

Erttusha: and insult for a mean person, ass-mouth

Ummak: art, collage or combining

Korkemkers: mind-splat, meditative diary

Kesuvkortyaa: storm spirit, beings of storm

Avkretymet: creatures, dim-er in keyaa

Metermaery: disappear

Koryerm: core hurt, core pain.

Kemerkykhov: plant used to traditional storm spirit foods

Kykykanot: the popping/sizzling quality of Kemerkykhov

Kormuma: those within a pod bond

Javyyerak: someone annoying to convince of something

With a smile, Amek knocked on the door to August’s office. “Aenhaaaas, can I come in.”

When there was no response, he frowned, a bit bummed, but he could just leave his gift on August’s desk for him to find later. Though, he was normally around about now. Where could he have gone?

As he opened the door, he realized.

A surprised yet fond huff left him. August was sprawled asleep at his desk, papers plastered about him.

“Aenhasvus,” he chided softly as he shut the door behind him. “Come on now, sleeping on the job?”

He walked around to August’s side of the desk to see what documents had either been so boring or so annoying that they had put him to sleep.

Though August’s arm partially covered the first thing he saw, he read what was visible and grimaced. Ough, yeah. Beastguard unit transfers were nearly always a messy affair. Actually, Amek’s grimacing increased as he realized, as Kirjnhas, he would likely have to look over those later as well.

It was then he noticed one of August’s personal notebooks was splayed open on the desk as well, though it was half covered with another document. Drawing on the job too, why Aenhas –

Ameokk had peeked at what little was visible in the notebook, curious to what August was drawing and figuring he would show him later anyways, when he realized it was not drawings, but writing.

And the writing was stormspeak.

A cold feeling flooded his chest.

Those were some of the words Ameokk had told him.

He grabbed the notebook and the longer he read –  those were the words he’d given Aenhas, those were the words he’d  –   the more his chest tightened.

Still holding the notebook, with his other hand he shook August awake, rougher than he should have. 

He woke with a jolt, wide eyed. “What? –  Ameokk – ?”

Amek held up the notebook. “You’ve been writing them down? This whole time. You’ve been writing them down this whole time.”

He felt like he didn’t have control of his voice. It was too hard, too fast, but those were the words, those were the words.

Frazzled, August glanced from the notebook and then to Amek.

“I have. You –  you never told me I couldn’t? I’m sorry, I – “

He clicked no. He didn’t care about that, that wasn’t the point. 

In his chest, his core was hammering. “Why.” He asked.

“I – I wanted to remember them.”

He clicked no twice more, that still wasn’t it. “But why. You –  it’s not your hokking language, you don’t need to remember them, gods above, it’s not like I’m quizzing you on it.”

August paused. “Because it’s your language, and… it’s....” He seemed to struggle to explain himself.

If August hadn't trailed off, he may have interrupted him, for Amek had mentally recoiled at his words. “Hardly, after all this time. The most I speak of it anymore is that. And when casting.”

“...Still. It's still your language, it's important.”

He sighed, “Just –  what if Mothe –  Sedaervus had ever found this, you should just. Burn this, throw it away or something.”

“What –  no!”

“Well, they’re my words, and they’re not worth hokkall to me anymore, so – “

Now August's expression twisted, voice strengthened, “They’re worth something to me. And you gave them to me, so that makes them my words now too. I don’t want to forget them, even if they’re not important to you, they’re important to me.”

And Amek was struck silent. Because it wasn’t hard to read between the lines of what August was saying.

They’re important to me because you’re important to me.

Really, this shouldn’t have been a shock, they had said they’d loved eachother, out loud, more times than he bothered to count.

Yet.

This was different.

No one had ever acknowledged that side of him, not how August had. Acknowledged that side of him and loved that side of him. Loved it even when, by all means, he had made it difficult –  was currently making it difficult.

All energy had left his voice. “What do you even plan to do with this.”

“I told you, they’re just to remember. Though…” he paused, and his voice gentled. The way it did when he wasn’t sure if what he said next was going to be met well or not, which made Amek bristle. “…maybe if you gave me more words, I could try actually speaking it myself.”

“No, you couldn’t.” The thought had crossed his mind before, but he had always shut it down quickly. He couldn't bear to ponder it. “I’ve never taught you any grammar. It’s much different to common.”

“Oh… Well, I would learn it if you’d be willing to teach me, Ameokk.”

Ameokk opened his mouth to retort that, to disagree, say anything, but his voice dried up. Because when he allowed himself to truly listen, to pick apart what August had said, he couldn’t make sense of it. It simply didn’t make any sense. Why would August do that, want to do that. That was much more than just remembering the words, learning was so much more. And he wouldn’t be able to speak with anyone but Ameokk with it, it was nearly useless.

Without actively meaning to, he placed the notebook back on the desk, his grip had already been loose enough to risk dropping it.

It did not make any sense, and it made his chest feel tight.

“…Ameokk?”

His core was doing odd things in his chest. It felt heavy and so fragile, like one wrong touch on his skin would shatter it.

Distantly, he knew he should respond to August, but suddenly he felt like he had everything to say and yet not a word could fit onto his tongue.

It was with a full body flinch that he realized August had brushed against the bounds of their bond.

Ameokk whipped up to stare at him just as August blurted, “Sorry, I just. I thought maybe if that was –  that might be easier, but if you don’t want to talk at all –  it’s fine.” As he spoke next, the regret was thick in his voice, his ears twitching miserably. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He clicked no. And he was right, it would be easier. Ameokk thought he was done talking for today. What he was feeling, he didn’t think it was something he could communicate in words anyway.

It was a bit silly, it was always August who thought to actually use their bond before him.

He felt too transparent using it, even if that was the point. He knew (he had felt) August felt similarly, he supposed he was just braver than Ameokk. He had always been braver than Ameokk.

For that reason, Ameokk surprised himself with how quickly he caved to using the bond. For this moment, his fear of transparency was outweighed by the tightness, the aching of his core. And the knowledge it would be eased he just got closer. A type of closer that could only be achieved through the bond.

Still feeling as though one wrong touch would shatter him, he eased into a kneel Infront of August, who was still sat in his desk chair.

Then, before August (widened, semi-alarmed eyes) could worry, and before Ameokk could hesitate, he hid his face into August’s shoulder and opened their bond.

With care, he attempted only to send over the surface of what he was feeling, not the intense, tangled (curdling, boiling, snapping) emotions deeper below.

More than the faint noise of August’s hitched breath, Ameokk stiffened as he sensed him sifting through what he has sent, echoing his own emotions as he reacted, then –

Arms wrapped around him and held him close. But closer, so much closer, was the way August seemed to wrap the entirety of his presence over him through the bond.

And their minds overlapped.

For a moment, Ameokk couldn’t figure out where August started and himself ended.

It was tangled, with spots of cold and prickly sections and tattered, tender edges, but more than anything else

It was warm.

That kind of all-encompassing warmth, it was beyond words, and as their minds continued to brush softly together, Ameokk distantly felt their chest loosen. His core still felt unbearably fragile, but it was different now, because now he could tell it was pulsing in time with August’s heartbeats.

The realization had fond amusement blooming through him, which was soon sent to August with how connected they were, so he understood immediately why he was amused and echoed it right back at him in a burst of bright, bubbling feeling.

Though his body felt secondary at the moment, he could tell a smile had curled itself across his face.

It was amusing because this should be impossible in the first place. A storm spirit and a non-storm spirit with a pod bond, of all things. Of all the other impossibilities that encompassed them.

Yet here they were.