Seasonal Mishap

“Do you…” Duelek blinked, stopping in his work at the sound of Orrin’s voice, quiet and hesitant from the other side of the couch. Lifting his gaze towards the Dasher he waited for Orrin to finish, watching as he fidgetted with the knitted blanket draped over the back of the couch, large fingers fussing with soft, dark green wool. “Do you want to...” Orrin wasn’t looking at him, gaze turned pointed down to the knit work in the blanket. “Helgin’s Haunt is coming up again.”

Duelek shifted where he sat, pulling his knees up, claws kneading into the cushion as the resting mist of his tail shifted and furled further outwards at the disturbance, shifting purple tones cascading down the side of the couch to spread out across the floor. “Yeah,” his head tilted, whiskers lifting up in a curved line to match the tilt of his ears. “Gonna be a full moon this year too; Helgin’s gonna be all kinds a blessing us.”

“I was unaware of that fact,” Orrin hummed, gaze remaining focused on knitted fabric instead of the Weaver he was talking to. His hands halted their fidgeting motion and Duelek heard the heavy sound of hooves shifting on the floorboards. Orrin took a deep breath, voice pointedly firm when he continued. “What I wanted to ask; was if you… wanted to go down into the valley for the festival?” He continues to speak, words a tumbling rush not that he’d started. “I would like to go and Mihal has agreed to the idea as well but I do not want to leave you out even though you are not the fondest of crowds or festivities in general, so I wanted to extend the invitation even if you do want to come as I do not enjoy the idea of leaving you-”

“Yeah sure,” Orrin stopped at Duelek’s words, glancing at the Weaver from the corner of his eye. Duelek shrugged a shoulder, picking up the needles he’d been working with, working coloured wool into something that could be sold or traded later. “I ain’t minding ta spend a bit a time down there with ya’ll, ‘fore it gets too late.”

The Dasher’s ears perk up, a small, content smile settling on his features as he nods. “Yes, of course. You enjoy practicing the old traditions, I understand that completely. I am just, very happy to hear you will not be spending the entirety of the evening alone.”

“It’ll be a nice time.”

“As long as you do not get into another fight while we are out.”

“I didn’t even start that one,” Duelek rolled his eyes, seeing Orrin raise a brow out of the corner of them. “I didn’t. Weren’t my fuckin’ fault the fucker didn’t like the sound a me, didn’t ask his fuckin’ opinion none.”

“That hardly meant you had to give him a black eye.”

“He looked better with it.” A certain, unchangeable fact in Duelek’s mind.

“Even so,” there’s a fondnes to Orrin’s voice. “Let us not repeat the scenario this time around.”

“I won’t start anything.”

“I will accept that.”

“I swear ta behave,” Duelek sighed, rolling his eyes again. He turned his focus away from Orrin though the Dasher continued to watch him. “Ya just focus on enjoying the night, alright? Don’t worry about me too muchly. Ain’t no thing gonna happen.”

“It is hard not to worry about you,” Orrin hummed but Duelek’s ears caught the sound of hooves shifting away from him. “But I shall put my best efforts into doing so.”

“Whatever bro.”

~

Unfortunately, things do not always go according to plan and Duelek found himself sitting on his own in the aftermath of a brawl he’d promised he wouldn’t get into, fur bristling to nearly twice it’s usual size, teeth and claws bloody as he forced himself to calm down, take deep breaths in and out before he did something he’d actually regret.

Like track down the asshole that had decided it was a good idea to poke fun at Orrin for not being aware of all the traditions of the Haunt.

He hadn’t known, of course, about the fact that Orrin had been raised outside of normal StarDragon culture. And the Dasher himself was getting better at masking the origin he hated, there was no way for the asshole to have known exactly what wound he was poking at.

Didn’t stop him from poking at it though.

Didn’t stop him from ruining Orrin’s good mood for the night, leaving the Dasher visibiliy distressed and uncomfortable.

Didn’t stop Duelek from springing at the asshole, a snarling mass of bristling fur, tearing fangs, and rending claws.

It was obvious when someone hadn’t been in a real fight before, even moreso when someone relied on their size to win for them. 

Duelek had neither of those things; he’d known how to actually fight, how to target the soft places that would hurt and keep himself clear from anything that would hurt him too much in return. And he had always been a small, wiry thing, able to twist and contort in order to win a fight however he could.

The other hadn’t known what he’d gotten himself into and even though he’d landed a good few hits on Duelek, it was nothing compared to the state the Weaver had left him in.

Duelek ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, grimacing before lifting his claw to dig at the piece of flesh he’d felt stuck between two of them. 

Ew.

His ear flickered as he heard hoof-steps approach him, a heavy figure settling next to him as Mihal came into vision in front of him.

“Hey,” Duelek grumbled, casting a glance up at his twin before turning his eyes away from the soft disappointment in their face. “He gonna live?”

“You took off a good chunk of his arm.” Orrin stated from his side, trying for calm and neutral but edging into panic. “But I believe that will heal in time. We apologized for you.”

“I wouldn’t a.”

“... I am aware of that.”

Mihal shifted suddenly, putting themselves in Duelek’s line of sight to sign something quick and hurried at him. ‘Don’t you being to feeling bad for it, I was a second off a joining.’

“Still got into trouble when I said I wasn’t gonna,” he grumbled, ears and whiskers dropping into low lines, his tail coiling in a thick, dense mass around him. “I ruined everything again.”

‘You didn’t ruin a thing.’ Duelek cast his gaze away from Mihal’s hands, away from his twin’s earnest certainty.

“It was a nice night before,” Orrin offered, soft and quiet, voice pitched low with something that rang too close to shame for Duelek’s liking.

“Weren’t your fault none that a fucker didn’t know ta keep his mouth shut.” He heard Orrin huff a breath but didn’t offer anything more, lifting himself to his feet and starting away from them both. “I need ta go home, clean myself up ‘fore attending to other things. Enjoy the rest of the festival.”

“You… do not have to leave.”

“Don’t real wanna stay.” He should have just stayed at home. “See ya in the morning.”