//------------------------------// // Quest 9 – Headstrong Help-her // Story: Wolf-cubs // by Orrm //------------------------------// Sunset sat silently, sinking into the cozy ambiance only a coffee shop could provide. She had been suddenly repulsed by touch, and he’d accepted it. Since waking she had shakily enforced an arm’s length between herself and anyone else. ‘Enforced’ might have been a stretch. More like hyperventilate harder at anyone close to her little bubble. Determination had flashed across Orthros’ eyes, hidden behind the bear head’s silicone circles. He was indulgent. So… undeservingly indulgent. It would’ve been easier to stop the car, exit and then reenter. Easier, but not as fast. That just wasn’t good enough for this kid. He needed her better now, damn the consequences, so he'd flung his petite self as far from her as possible. She heard a grunt of hurt when his side crashed against the dashboard. He was like paper today. Pale, wispy and blank. She worried for him. He was so much smaller than his brothers. Smaller than even her. She prayed to Faust he hadn’t bruised himself somehow. He’d allowed her space throughout their drive to this place Always ensuring she was as calm as possible. Jumping to the front seat, despite how uncomfortable it must’ve been in that costume. One unfortunate vacation she played mascot for McArby’s, earning less than minimum wage. The suit was humid as a desert and movement was scarce, ‘cept the ability to shuffle around like a disabled crab. Orthros was wearing a brand named costume, he must’ve been dying in there. She didn’t know a single expensive brand built for comfort. Her finger twitched around her cold, slushy comfort. Red and pink circled each other like the petals of a rose. Scarlet slashes caressed the edges and pink mush bloomed underneath. She traced transparent teardrops across the thin plastic with the tip of her finger, it’s beauty drew her in. Orthros laid limp as a hibernating bear, two tables down. So thoughtful. Her head nodded down, but she caught herself before the straw impaled her forehead. One small sip leant some much needed support to her nerves. She felt like glass. The side of her head gently knocked into the table. She relaxed, idly watching the colors of her drink swirl . “HEY SHE-DEMON!” The angry shout echoed in the empty shop. A headache pinched the corners of her brain as boots stomped towards her table. No way, this was a Sunbuck, there was no way anyone’d make a scene here. She hoped. Hope proven pointless, as the voice angrily mocked her,. “Look at you, living it up all bourgeoi,” From behind her drink, she spied a tanned hand and tall girl, flanked by two others. Mildly white with frizzy blue hair, whitish-blue complexion and blueish hair. Octavia, Vinyl and, probably, High Winds. Octavia threw an ugly sneer in her direction. Anon-A-Miss had exposed her three months ago. Her relationship with Vinyl. There were pictures in that expose. Pictures… and videos. Octavia came from a very conservative family, very prim and proper. ‘Upper Crust’, was an apt description. Sunset even heard that she had a fiancé, a man. She didn’t come to school for days and when she did? It looked like she had gotten in a fight with a bear. And lost. “You think that’s fair? That some of us need suffer, them scrape by while you’re just fine,” Just the thought of that post churned Sunset’s stomach. “Do you even feel a single sliver of guilt-!” At her last part-time job, Sunset worked with ‘Tavi. Heard, she’d been all but disowned. Though ‘just’ being kicked-out, likely, wasn’t much better. Sunset knew that pain, of being rejected by the most important people in your life. The pillars of your childhood, repulsed by your very existence. She sunk even deeper into the table, cheek smushed against the smooth, lacquered wood. “Fucking Say Something!” Sunset knew that pain all too well. Such a shame, the cellist didn’t deserve any of it. Sunset had liked Octavia, her presence was… pleasant, she had such pretty fingers. It was almost magical to see them dance. “Got nothing, Anon-A-Miss? No quips?” Octavia snarled. She was indignant. Behind the straw, Sunset spied Octavia’s rose-flushed chin. Irritated, enraged, humiliated. The cellist was swallowed by tyrannical emotion. She glanced at the entourage, praying they’d temper their friend. Vinyl was jamming, unperturbed by her surroundings. High Winds seemed nervous, but determined. She held a righteous stare, broken by intermittent sideways lip-twists of discomfort. Octavia’s eyes caught on Sunset’s half-melted drink. “You don’t deserve these things,” Octavia grimaced, black lips turned down and brow knit tight, “-probably extorted the money from someone-” Octavia’s hand wound up to swipe her drink, it was pawed away before it could leave her side. Orthros had scurried to the commotion, though Sunset couldn’t tell when. His furry hand was still extended out and he clung to the chair-rest, perched like a human cockroach. Bear-cockroach? … Bearoach? “Pray tell, what are you supposed to be?” Octavia snarled. The bear did not respond, simply made a ‘shoo’-ing motion. “I’m asking you a question, freak,” He still did not speak, and it only infuriated his elder, Octavia’s shoulders shook. The one eye Sunset spied behind her straw was stretched wide and twitching. Worry pooled in her stomach like lead. She didn’t want anyone to get hurt. There was a possibility that he could fight, but he was so much more fragile-looking than his brothers. He seemed weaker than even her, and she was injured! The bear extended both hands out, he used the left to press his other hand’s claws down, gifting them a middle-finger. Octavia’s eyes flew open, indignation scarred her features. Rage took over as a vein pulsed on her forehead. “Why you b-” Her hand lifted back and drove down, slowly. Sunset saw it slow. So, very, very slow. Her head still rest on the table, hidden behind her drink, one hand to the plastic and other arm curled around the table’s outer rim, shielding herself and her drink from the assailant. Orthros tried to move, but slipped and fell in front of Octavia, his form floating sideways. A shot of adrenaline hit Sunset’s system. What was he doing? No! Octavia was a head taller than him, she could, and would hurt the poor kid. No! Her head raised up, hair peeling off the table and splaying down her cheeks. She was slow, so very, very slow. Everything was so… slow. Octavia’s fist froze inches from his face. She was an arms length from them both. She’d never reach in time. The bear head fell off, his head inched downward, closer and closer to her fist. And, like a coward, she couldn’t bear to see him hurt. Sunset screwed her eyes shut. Their corners prickled, she was so useless. “GAHH!” Sunset pried open her helpless eyes.