Closed A Canine Comes Calling (Valo)

[Besnik]

Besnik Evening, 36th of Winter, 512 AV ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ Besnik had been doing a lot of thinking recently, something vaguely new for the Kelvic who preferred to live on instinct. He’d spent the day in the forest, for once not hunting but simply sat under the shade of a tree, cloak wrapped around his body to stop the wind getting to his skin. It hadn’t been too cold in the shelter of the trees, though the trek out of the city had been windy as always. The wilderness comforted him, wrapping its green arms around him so that he could fully relax. He’d leant his back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes, weighing up his options on what to do. The feeling of restlessness was beginning to creep up on him, the need to move elsewhere. He hadn’t yet finished exploring Zeltiva, but rarely did he manage to find his way around any city before moving on. Normally his response would be to pull his pack over his shoulders and wander off back into the wilderness. However, this time it was different. He’d met more interesting people than he usually would, including a few companions to hunt with. The thought of leaving them before for good didn’t appeal to him. Then there was Valo. The canine’s mind definitely wasn’t the fastest, so he’d only figured out last week that the reason he felt so close to the man who should only be an acquaintance was because they were bondmates. The thought of leaving indefinitely, not knowing when or if he’d choose to return to the city, made him feel uneasy. He’d been told about the close relationship between a Kelvic and their bondmate by his mother when he was younger; the bond that every Kelvic wished for, especially as they got older. Taking into account the bond between him and the other red haired man, the decision over whether or not to leave Zeltiva was so much harder. The canine shook his head and let out a sigh, lowering his eyes to the stone path that stretched out before him. He hadn’t come to a conclusion as to how to solve his problem so that he could both cure his restlessness but still live within Zeltiva. Well, sleeping in his dhole form curled up wherever he was out of the way didn’t particularly qualify him as living in the city, but the point remained the same. He both did and didn’t want to leave at the same time. It was all too confusing for the poor Kelvic, who only really wanted to live in the moment. He put it to the back of his mind as he carried on walking down the path, passing the occasional stranger. None so much as glanced at the poorly dressed man, all busy with their own routines and schedules to keep. With nothing else to do, Besnik wandered until evening arrived and he found himself on a very familiar doorstep. He eyed Valo’s house for a few moments, breathing in to try and determine whether his scent had been here recently. Unfortunately as the man lived here, it was difficult to distinguish recent from past scents. Shrugging, with nothing better to do and a wish to actually visit the man, the Kelvic stepped forward and knocked on the door. He waited expectantly, hoping the man was at home. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ ||Besnik|| ||3 years|| ||Kelvic|| ||Bondmate - Valo||

[Valo]

"Will you be my next example?"

The words still haunted him. The words of the wretched demon who had so cruelly presented himself to the poor artist. The words, cool as ice that penetrated deep into his mind, numbed him, terrified him. What was the agenda? What reason had the killer for so casually revealing his identity? What use was the murder of poor Kip? What use would be the artist's own dead? An example? An example of what? Questions, questions, never ending questions...

"You see, friend, I carved that word into the man's chest to teach this city a lesson...and I will continue to instruct it 'til Zeltiva learns to become greater than the strength I bring against it. Will you be my next example?"

The ruthlessness echoed. The exact memory etched into his very substance now. No means of escapism. No drop of Kelp Beer would drown them, no paint brush would wipe away the memory of that god forsaken night. It seemed that in the space of less than a day, Valo's entire world has come sprinkling down into a great abyss. He was a man who could not cope with it all. A man who's heart lingered in the sorrow, unable to free from his emotion.

Valo had found himself a fool at the cruel game of fate.

"Your only mistake, Valo, was by assuming I was here to help you."

The cold water broke against his skin, pinching at the alabaster relentlessly. Single droplets, flying into the air with intent, before lingering in suspension for languishing moments and alas dropping back to the ground where they belonged. His face dripping with their residue, hair in bloody crimson strings. Deep breaths. Eyes wide open. Droplets upon his lashes.

"Will you be my next example?"

Valo had driven himself mad. An inability to function coherently, simply worrying about those words that had been bestowed upon him. Foolish artist. He should have staid home. Now he was hanging upside down, suspended in his own perpetuation of horror. Unable to let it all go. Simply unable. Hunched over the washing basin, splashing cold water upon his face again and again in hope of awakening from this nightmare. The ascendency of life upon him. A boy who had grown up in a stable family, a sheltered childhood. nothing ever really seemed to go truly wrong in life for him. nothing quite of this magnitude. he simple knew not how to handle it. And then there was the question of his over emotional personality, a sensitive heart who could not simply discard such an event. For Valo, the world had halted and despite the evident journey of the sun across the sky, time stood still.

A knock on the door.

"One moment." he yelled before truly registering the existence of the sound. A call that came before he even realised he didn't really want to see anyone at this time. No should could help him. At this point the artist had felt more alone than ever. Restless, eyes red from tears that have been repeatedly washed from his cheeks. Shaking beneath the shirt he had finally pulled onto his back as he raced towards the front door. A shark jerk of the handle as it swung open to reveal the artist in a less than pitiful state. "Yes?"

The sight of his beloved Kelvic on his door step inverted his entire expression momentarily. A crescent of a smile broke out across his face in a greeting. A sudden urge to bury his face into the Kelvic. But as soon as that momentary light of a smile had waned, he simply nodded his head in an inviting manner. Expression becoming increasingly muted as he retreated into the dim interior of the cottage.