CONFETTI & CONFESSIONS

It wasn’t until one day when you wake up with a knife in your chest that you realize something isn’t working.

He’d awoken from a troubled sleep at 5 the morning of his stabbing. It was early, too early for the likes of him to be up, but his mind was wandering again. Pretty soon he’d be restless. So he’d swung himself off the old couch that wasn’t his and made himself presentable in a broken mirror moments before he walked out into the soft light of the dawn with a glistening candy held tightly between his teeth.

He hadn’t gone home last night. He would always stay with a friend when he was bruised, bloody, hurt, or the guilt was too heavy and twisting in his stomach to face the sights and smells of his own modest home. He organized crime, stole, fought, and cried (but never killed) all over the town and it was about time someone caught on and really done something about his antics.

He’d waited until half an hour past sunrise while the town was still opening its eyes and coming to life from the cold, frosty, stillness of the night before. Then he headed to the local store. Not to buy anything or to steal, no, he wanted to speak to Dennis, the owner and an unlikely friend. Boundaries were not in the fox’s vocabulary and he was always asking things he shouldn’t, like how Fright’s non-existent relationship was going or who had the prettiest head on their shoulders around town or personal problems. Honestly, Dennis got on his last nerve but he was a good co-worker and part of the unofficial ‘gang’ of his.

He’d just stepped past the entrance way of the general store when it happened. One moment, nothing. The next moment, a pain shot through his chest like wildfire. He’d fallen on the ground in shock, barely able to catch just a glimpse of his attacker—brown fur, super quick movements, large felid features, and no care for what just happened. He thought his fleeing attacker was maybe a cougar...or a lioness before the shop owner ripped him from his already dizzying thoughts with shouting and causing a huge, stupid scene.

Afterwards had been a mess, too. ”I always thought you caused too much trouble around here. Heck, you’re lucky to be alive! Now get out while you still can. Leave town, stay in the down low, get away from danger. I bet you won’t be followed, I bet nobody will know you’ve left until you’re a thousand miles away. As your friend, I think its for the best.” Those are the words Dennis had spoke to him the night he left town. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. Someone was after him. He had to get away. The town would be reduced to shambles if he stayed and battled with the assassins, whoever they were. He left everything behind just 36 hours after the assassination attempt that almost claimed his bleeding heart and trekked into wilderness with a hole in the side of his chest, just to the left of the spike-blade that poked from the midst of his chest, patched illy with bandages.

—————

The perfectly pale servaline boy now sat at the borders of the Rosebloods. He’d been here in his past. His mother, Jiyu, was here and he had lived in the Rosebloods when his memories of his past lives were still lost and the body he possessed was still a mere child. He’d been grateful then but he felt the sickness of embarrassment at having come back now. But where else to go? He had to hope they’d take him in and maybe even offer some sort of protection from whatever the hell was happening to him. He didn’t think he’d been follow here so that was the first good sign.

Frightfur Seraphim sighed as he twirled a green apple sucker around in his mouth, a sweet smile beginning to form on his candy-coated lips. He’d better speak now. He didn’t want to be found first by a patrol—that’d just be awkward. Hey, and maybe Jiyu was still alive and around. He sure hoped so and maybe it may not be soo bad.

He wished he could hide his rather fresh chest wound, but the partially bloodied bandages were too obvious and he eternally winced in pain due to not resting on it since the incident. Shrugging and telling himself to not worry so much, the feminine serval called out in his signature western drawl,”Howdy! Err, Rosebloods, if anyone can hear me, my name is Frightfur Seraphim. I’ve got a proposition for y’all.”

CONFETTI & CONFESSIONS

The candy sucker fell from Frightfur’s mouth and dashed itself into the earth as the calico Advisor appeared from the foliage. The little serval’s pupils shrunk to pin pricks and back again. His mouth suddenly felt dry.

”Mo—m?” he coughed the word and his mind went reeling.

He had so much to tell her. He’d found out too much about himself since they’d last looked at each other. He really didn’t think he’d ever be back here again. How could he explain he had memories from lives he felt were his at some earlier time? How he was a soul recycled from the past to be born again…in present time to her, to be her child.

He winced (this time not from the angry injury to his chest) when Jiyu stepped back. Was she afraid? Did she not wish to see him again? What was wrong? ”Mom, I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long… I meant to visit but I got caught up. But look! I’m in trouble right now and—“

The drawl was cut short as another figure startled him. Fright’s titanium teeth clenched as he readied himself, nervous momentarily at the sight of creature so much bigger and more mystical than even himself. Yet, this lion held no ignorance or anger but intelligence.

The Seraphim’s nuclear waste eyes darted once over Jiyu and then back to Sephiroth. At least, he had their attention. He shifted his weight from one mechanical forepaw to the other. ”I was attacked two nights ago by a stranger who’d come into the town I used to call home. I had tried to make a life for myself there, but I believe I was targeted. I’ve run away now and this is the only place I know. I don’t mean to drag trouble with me, but y’all wouldn’t mind if I stayed awhile and kept quiet?”

It was worth a shot. His mother was here and just maybe he’d be safe in the place the Rosebloods called home. The pain in his chest reminded him of something else and he added quickly,”And don’t worry about me! I can take care of myself...I know how to heal good enough to know I’m in fine hands.” He didn’t want Jiyu to worry and he didn’t want them calling some healer of theirs to come prod and poke him about his ugly chest wound. He just really, really didn’t need that right now.