[5-10] Flights of Fancy (Christa and Red)

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

Despite the meager rest he had caught during their pitstop in the secluded shelter, Nanaki’s body continued to fight his every movement. He felt as if the weights had merely been shifted upon the scale, leaving the balance the same as ever. What strength he had regained through food and rest was hindered by the stiffness of his joints and the pounding headache behind his eyes. Likewise, though his wounds were no longer pouring his body’s contents upon the forest floor, the damage done beneath seemed to feel worse as swelling stepped in to ‘help out’. For a beast that symbolized courage and pride, he felt more than a little bit fragile, like a marionette strung up too tightly.

“Keep that light low,” Took muttered urgently. He was leading their march, separated from the feline by the ever-vigilant sniper. Red bit his tongue; had she not been betwixt the two, it could have been the man’s neck.

The burgundy beast did as he was told, following the command begrudgingly like a disobedient pup. Though Christa had found renewed vigor in her rest conversation, Red’s nightmares had left him feeling precisely the opposite fashion. While she felt closer to those for whom she searched, he never felt farther from Vincent. While the ‘human’ side of him knew the terrors were simply errant bits of thought, animated by arbitrary impulses in his brain, he had to wonder if the phantasms bore some significance. Among the inhabitants of Cosmo Canyon, dreams were seen as a window into the mind and were often lauded as premonitions. The thought hung between his eyes for a moment. Premonition. He shook it off; it was illogical, even silly.

“So,” Christa began, whispering through the black night. “Them?”

“No talking,” Took replied, quickly and quietly. He raised a hand to hush the huntress, leading them through a particularly dense portion of foliage. She did not reply, dutifully following their guide evermore through the wilderness.

The trek was long, the night air hanging heavy and silently over their shoulders. It had seemed their little forest fire had put itself out, leaving the night’s gaping maw to swallow them whole. Nanaki’s tail provided a sliver of light, just barely adequate enough to keep track of Took. They stayed close to their guide, hoping that he would not be one to prey upon their trust and dash headlong into the woods, leaving them stranded. Something told the crimson prime that his blonde comrade had a bullet chambered just for such an occurrence.

”You’re mine… Took’s voice slithered into his ear, making his fur stand on end. He paused for half a moment, hearing nothing from Christa.

“What?” he spoke up, leaning forward slightly to squint at the man.

The gunslinger shot him a look, urgency in her eyes as she pressed a finger to her lips. They couldn’t afford to break their silence, lest they beckon whatever creatures laid in hiding.

“He just said something,” Red explained, his voice subconsciously growing louder.

”All mine…”

“What’s all yours?!” the crimson prime growled, dropping his quiet tone completely.

“No one said anything,” the guide whispered, keeping his back to the fiery feline. “Now hush and follow me.”

The crimson cat let out a low growl before returning to silence. He carried himself as low as he could, keeping at a proper stance to grapple the man if the need came. Took could play all the games he wanted, trying to antagonize him into causing a fight. Red knew most of their time together was all part of a larger mental chess game, and that the smug bastard was manipulating him even now. Truthfully, at this point the burgundy beast couldn’t care less about who had the upper hand. The man was through as soon as he outlived his usefulness.

Soon… Christa’s husky growl met his ears, causing his heart to beat still faster. He took a step forward, glancing up at her as they stalked. If she was planning something, he’d want to know.

“Soon what?” Red asked, pressing himself closer to her path and keeping his voice as quiet as possible. The cat looked up expectantly, as a housecat might wait to be fed.

”All will fall…” The voice this time was much deeper, laden with saccharine sweetness: the voice of Karl Jak.

“Stop!” Red announced, standing stock still among the trees. Christa jumped at the sudden outburst, reflexively holding her dagger at the ready. In the dim firelight, he saw Took’s face contorted with rage.

“Will you shut up?” the man more demanded than inquired. His hushed whispers came laden with rage and desperation. “If you keep making noise like that, they’ll find us for sure.”

“Or Karl Jak will attack us again!” Nanaki barked loudly, glaring toward a nondescript patch of brush with his lone ochre optic. His unmuted words echoed through the area, deafening in the otherwise silent glade.

The rambunctious feline felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. Christa looked down at him, equal parts worry and annoyance apparent on her countenance. She drew two fingers over her mouth, closing an invisible zipper; the meaning was lost on him.

“What?” the crimson Prime muttered, lowering his voice to a hushed mutter. “What did you mean by “soon” just now?”

The huntress’ look shifted more toward concern at his words, cocking an eyebrow. She shook her head wordlessly, attempting to maintain her vow of silence. Again she raised a finger to her mouth, making an almost imperceptibly quiet “shh” sound.

“...Nevermind,” Red sighed, shaking his head. “Must have been the wind or something.”

She kept her gaze on him for but a moment before turning to follow Took. The fiery feline stood for a beat, hearing nothing but silence. He soon followed, his heart hammering in an uneven cadence.