Care

Words: 2569
Rating: 10+
Warnings: Bugs, light violence/injuries
Notes: Sponsored by Ciel! He donated to me but didn’t give me a prompt, so I just tried to write something he’d enjoy!

 

Lurel hummed to himself as he walked through the town, tossing a fresh-picked apple and trying to trick-catch it: behind his back, reverse-gripped, half-juggled. It was a very good day, breezy and warm, with some thin clouds keeping the sun from being too bright. And it was a year since they’d broken ground on the village. Construction on the communal buildings had been done for a few weeks, the village wall was completed four days ago, and only a few houses were left to build.

A few people called greetings to him, and he halted his song to respond to each of them. A year ago, he never bothered with others, but now? He’d learned the importance of his neighbors. All of them had, really.

Lurel rounded the corner into the village square, and brightened immediately as he saw the heavy build and scaly tail of his love. He slowed his walk to an amble, trying to not be noticed without having to sneak, and got to one knee behind the lizard-folk. “Merist, sweet!” he said. “I have come to rescue you from this dullery.”

“How many times,” Merist said, heavy drawl extending his vowels, “do I have to ask you not to interrupt my work?” He slapped the ground with his tail, raising some dust, and turned. “If you must bother someone, it must be-” He stopped, quickly raising a clawed hand to his snout. He coughed, but Lurel knew it was to hide a laugh at the sight of him presenting an apple with all the pomp of a hero pledging his fealty. “It must be Yariv,” he finished, once he could be sure of his composure.