GLADIATOR / return

[michael t.]

LIKE THE MOON SAYS TO THE DARK — Michael had mixed feelings on Trygve, as well as the boy's absence from the Typhoon. On one hand, he could see where Ry was coming from when he had run off. He was angry, and hurt, and he had hurt some of the people closest to him. It reminded the thief of when he had originally run off from his family home after dealing with his father. Although he knew he had significantly less regrets than Trygve did, he could also still remember the fear and panic that had pushed his young body to the absolute limits, running as far away from his old home as he had been able to. On the other hand, the privateer thought that Ry was a goddamn idiot for running away, and he never should've even considered it in the first place. He had good family in the Typhoon, that wouldn't consider him the devil just because he had made a few mistakes. Michael would've killed for that when he was younger, and it made him aggravated to see Ry taking advantage of that. Still, the fugitive had kept his nephew's secret, never telling anyone else that he knew of his location within the Pitt. It had been difficult, especially when Roxie had been in some of her worse states, but the thought of seeing Trygve's face after snitching... it was enough to ward Michael off from it for life. He couldn't deal with betraying anybody else's trust, not after the past he had.

When the bell's loud toll had rung out over the Typhoon's territory, the bobcat had reluctantly pushed himself to his paws, shaking sand from his pelt. Ever since he had been promoted to the position of privateer, he had been making more of an effort to greet joiners and visitors, even when he didn't feel like it. He just hoped that whoever was making all that racket wouldn't mind a slightly groggy and slightly cranky thief greeting them, instead of someone more palatable, like Goldie. The thought made the male snort as he crossed his way over the beach, slinking after some familiar faces when he saw them in a rush to greet whoever was there – Maggie, Jaime... it was a good thing he was going anyways, to make sure that they were safe. He opened his muzzle to warn at least Maggie to slow down, but then paused when a familiar scent hit the roof of his maw. It was mixed in with a mess of other smells as well, but it was so distinctly familial and welcome that even Michael found himself speeding up, trying not to stumble over his own paws. His concussion had healed mostly, but the fast pace still made him slightly dizzy. He didn't care, however, because his nephew was home.

The privateer eventually came skidding to a stop just a few steps behind Maggie, watching with interest as the girl moved forward. He winced when she punched Trygve in the face, but he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. The kid deserved that, for how much distress he had caused not only his mother, but his siblings as well. Michael found a certain tightness in his chest about the entire exchange, his body tense and his mind racing in both happiness and anxiety. Even with so much time having passed, it was still surreal to the feline that he really cared about. Ry was near the top of that list, considering the boy was not only his nephew, but also like an apprentice and a son to him as well, although he'd never admit it. Swallowing the thick lump that had formed in his throat, the dark furred bobcat moved forward to touch his nose to Ry's head, carefully avoiding his horns as he muttered, "Welcome back, you dumbass." His voice was dry, but it also carried a distinct roughness to it that showed how Michael was actually feeling – choked up, and happy. — WE WILL NEVER BE APART