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The Gift

Edward's Storyline, Chapter 7.2

copyright comidacomida 2018

Treboada, who was still sprawled out on the sofa beside me let out a sigh and tilted up a wooden mug of what looked like some kind of amber drink into his muzzle. He wiped the fuzz surrounding his lips clean with the back of his arm before he turned to me and stated quietly "Chances are they'll be at this fer an hour or more, Lad... ye'll 'ave an easier time o' it if ye give em space t'figger out how t'settle their argument over who's right.

I didn't much care for the idea. "I don't really like others determining how I live my life, Treboada... I should have a say in things too."

He shrugged casually and offered a mug of whatever he had to me. "Aye-- no complaints there... but they be more likely t' be listen' t' ye when they ain't talkin'. Ye can let em get it outta th' way with each otheh afore ye step in an' tell 'em 'ow it'll be... but in th' meantime none a this needs t' involve ye. May as well relax a bit... yeah?"

The Wolf had a point, especially since the other three Spirits were obviously more involved with arguing amongst themselves than paying any attention to what I was doing or saying. It gave me the same kind of feeling as when my grandparents went into my high school freshman year and started telling my teachers what classes I needed. Ugh. Looking down at the surprisingly solid mug Treboada had handed to me, I smiled, realizing that the warrior Wolf had the right idea. I wasn't 21, but I didn't let that worry me as I raised the drink and offered him a suitable toast. "Fuckin' A."

Treboada's grin widened and he hit his mug against mine, creating a distinct *thunk* as clay hit clay. I felt the impact in my arm and I almost expected that I'd be able to actually drink what the mug held. Raising it to my lips, it still surprised me when I felt the room temperature fluid touch my lips, and then my senses exploded as it hit my tongue. I'd tried beer before but what the Wolf had given me was something differently entirely. Even though it was obviously made of Spirit it still felt real, and smelled real, and tasted real... though, as I swallowed I could tell that it wasn't filling my stomach.

Having finished his drink first, Treboada set his mug on the coffee table and when he released it from his paw it disappeared completely. He stood, smoothing out the fur on his abdomen before he lowered his arm to me, offering to help me up. I lowered my mug and accepted his help; sure, he was made of Spirit stuff he was surprisingly strong and he hefted me up as if I were a child rather than 220 and 6'1". Turning his ears away from the continued argument of the other Spirits he motioned toward the back hall. "Drinkin's always betteh when ye can enjoy it without jaw waggin' in th' backgroun', aye?"

I hadn't had a lot of experience with drinking so I was willing to let him take the lead. "Sure."

Following after him with my hand still in his paw, Treboada led me back to my room. I still held the mug he'd given me but he offered me a fresh one the moment we stepped out of the hallway. He reached to the door and, even though his free paw didn't quite touch, it closed at his beckoning. Looking down at the new mug he offered I held up the one I still had. "I'm good, thanks."

He laughed, offering it anew. "Why 'ave just one when ye got two 'an's, boyo?

It was a simple argument, but a good one, and I accepted. He leaned back against my dresser and, having summoned himself up a new mug as well he began drinking happily, the tip of his tail twitching back and forth in a reserved wag. I took another sip from my first cup, and then from my second; although they were both some kind of beer or ale the second one had its own distinct taste and, just like the first, it was amazing. "I... don't usually drink."

He laughed, holding his drink up in another toast. "Ye live 'ere, lad... they say yeh cannae drink til ye be 21, but if ye lived across th' pond ye'd'a been able t'drink fer a few years by now."

I knew that most countries let eighteen year olds drink, and some had legal drinking ages of sixteen, but, considering the legal drinking age in the United States was 21 I'd only had occasional opportunities. Sure, I'd always been pretty good about following the rules and obeying the law but sometimes they were pretty stupid. Even so, I reasoned, it was just Spirit alcohol so that was entirely different. That DID beg a question though, but I waited to ask it until I'd drained my first cup. "So... if this is Spirit booze..."

Treboada set his empty mug on top of the dresser he was leaning against and it disappeared when he let go, all the while keeping his eyes on me. "It is..."

I walked over and sat down on my bed, watching my own mug carefully as I set it on my blanket-covered pillow and removed my hand; it disappeared just like the ones the Wolf had set down. Only once I looked back at him did I finish my thought. "Does Spirit booze make you drunk, or no?"

He shrugged. "Aye... it ken... if'n ye want it to... or it ken just give ye a warm, fuzzy feelin' on th' inside."

Looking down at my second mug I took another sip of it; if I had to choose whether the first one was better or if I liked the second more I'd have been hard pressed since they each had their own appeal. I ran my finger around the lip of the cup. "I haven't been drunk before, but I hear hangovers hurt like a mother fucker."

Treboada, laughing, sauntered over and plopped down onto the bed next to me. I'd almost expected the mattress to shudder beneath his weight but, even though he sank into it as if he had impacted I didn't feel the bed move in the least. The Wolf reached over and took the mug from me. "Well... we ken keep ye from 'avin' one a those if'n ye be worried... 'sides, th' goal be to help ye relax... not t' 'ave ye lose yeh senses."

I had to admit removing myself from the chaos of the arguing spirits and just taking a few minutes for myself to relax and unwind had made a big difference. Smiling, I looked to the Wolf and nodded. "Well... I think it worked. Thanks."

Chuckling, Treboada reached out and rested his paw on mine. "Ye do a fine job workin' all th' time, Lad... ye just gotta remembeh t' take th' time t' unwind now an' again or ye risk gettin' wound up too tight."

I nodded, looking back to my empty hands. I ran my tongue around in my mouth, the hint of an aftertaste lingering on my taste buds but it was so faint it felt more like the memory of something that I'd never actually experienced. There was silence in the room for a long time until I finally asked what I'd been thinking for most of the night. "So... what happens next exactly?"

Treboada inhaled deeply before letting out his breath. "For now, ye keep goin' forward in life an' ye dunnae worry about what ken 'appen, but ye make sure ye prepare fer it as if ye knew it was gonna."

I let out a single 'ha'. "Is it possible to do both? How do I keep from worrying about something that I have to prepare for?"

He smiled, his black lips pulling back high on his face as he revealed his sharp, lupine teeth. "Ye make sure ye prepare real good, an' then ye trust ye prepared right."

He had a point and, as I sat on the bed with him, the wisdom of it started to sink in; I could think it over and make a plan, prepare the plan for action, and then keep it in the back of my mind in case it was needed... but I didn't have to let that crazy War Spirit rule my life. It was a strange thought but, then again, ever since the four Spirits entered my life I'd seen a lot of strange. To be honest, I really didn't mind it. I mirrored Treboada's smile (though mine was smaller I'm sure since I didn't have a muzzle to match his). "I don't think I've ever said it, but I'm glad you're in my life."

Treboada's eyes gleamed a bright Green, little flecks of Purple shimmering within the glow and his smile took on a different tone-- so distinct I could feel it as his paw brushed across my arm. It as all the more evident when he called me by name. "Eddie... ken ah ask somethin' about ye?"

I found all of the hair on my body stand on end as his touch sent goose bumps across my arm. "Sure... What?"

His gaze met mine and he looked right in my eyes as he flicked an ear while he spoke. "Ah know 'umans 'ave lots o' ways t' be close with people... lots o' those ways d'pend on whetheh they be lad or lass an' if th' otheh person--"

Even as he tried to put his thoughts into words I realized what he was asking. It took a moment for me to come to reason out the right response. "Oh-- well... I--"

He managed to find the right words before I could. "Fer Spirits, bein' physical with someone's not common, but with the right person, it dunnae matter if they be lad or lass... an'... an' I'd like that with ye... if ye'd like it with me."

At some point when I'd been running through the content of the thought in my mind Treboada's minimal clothing disappeared completely and a naked Wolf was seated next to me on the bed. He leaned forward and pressed his cold, wet nose to my neck, and he kissed me on the collar bone. I--