Ch. 8
Cabin fever, or a sign of what's to come?
It had been a long trek through the valleys, winding our way up the mountain slopes. We stuck mostly to the roads, the days creeping by as the frost crept in, a bitter chill working its way into the air. The little campfires I kept were small comfort against the freezing wind working through the boughs. Claire kept close, my hands often held hidden in the confines of her thick, warm fur at night. But even with the two of us huddled up beneath my worn sleeping bag, in the tent, against the tree line, as sheltered as could be, there was no denying we were reaching the limits of what we could do.
Tempest and I worked up a sweat in the mornings, training and sparring and generally roughhousing. She was getting faster, day by day. I had to be careful not to hurt her, when she managed to catch a counterattack. She was fearless. It was impressive in its own way, though I knew from experience that even a strong opponent could only take so many solid blows before falling. I tried to teach her to protect herself, and counter, instead of just wading into the melee and hoping for the best, but she had no intention of holding back.
Mira and I spent the early evenings together, as I cooked. Mostly I talked to her, we took in the sights, sometimes we played childrens games. When it was too cold for that, we just snuggled and enjoyed the fireside comfort.
It was with some relief when we came upon the quaint mountainside town. The ribbon of road ran through, heading up toward the pass, a handful of log cabins, a quiet general store. It didn’t take long to find our way there, and while it was a bit of a walk, we even managed to get a cabin. There was more to the little town, of course. But I had more pragmatic concerns than sight seeing.
I had planned on only staying a little while. A few days, to resupply and get back on the road, but the weather forecasts had sung a very different tune. Snow, and more snow were the projections. What had been a week’s rental was ultimately renegotiated for a longer stay. I hated having to do it, but it was growing too cold to keep pushing through the mountains. I was rather ill equipped for rain. A serious snow storm would have practically been an execution. I’d had too many close calls as it was, without doing the same stupid thing a second time and worse.
It was frustrating, for all of us, being tethered down to just a few miles away from the sleepy little town. But it was just how things were. My worn out tent and patched up coat just weren't going to cut it. I’d need to replace them when we did get moving again. Mark another one down under “expenses I’d rather avoid”.
I spent the days training the girls, and myself. They seemed to enjoy watching me, and it was nice to shake the rust off. I’d forgotten how good it felt to get a good workout in. To practice those stretches, and kicks.
I knew Claire was paying close attention to the things I taught her, she’d never forgotten the meditite. I realized, looking back on it, that I could have prepared her better for it. It was nice to have the chance to fix my shortcoming. She didn’t have the weight to put up an effective guard, but she was nimble and flexible enough to dodge. I tried to teach her how to read posture, but it was hindered by her ability to read my mind.
Mira wasn’t much for training, in truth. She only wanted to play. But I tried to find ways to make games of it, keeping her engaged while doing my best to build some kind of foundation. She was a little on the lazy side, but I’d made her a promise, so I didn’t push the matter. She’d grow slowly, and maybe she’d find out she was having fun doing it.
Tempest, on the other hand, had taken to the daily training with a fervor. It was obvious she saw the sparring as a welcome break from the cabin fever we were all feeling. We traded cuts and bruises daily, and I found that after we were done, her passions had been lit. The sex was rougher than the training!
It was hard to keep up with, she'd been almost daring me to punish her. The longer we were stuck, it seemed, the more aggressive and moody she got. I tried to find some kind of balance, some kind of peace, but it was rapidly becoming a moot point. The only things that satisfied her were being hurt, or being outside.
We were all trying to keep things from spilling over. I found myself biting back things I wanted to say, and I could feel, even without Claire’s touch, Tempest’s growing ire. It seemed each day brought new frustrations. New problems.
Claire and Mira grew closer, while Tempest drove a wedge between herself and everyone else. She began eating alone, and spending a lot of time in a pokeball. Anything to not be around us, stuck inside those walls.
When we trained, it was always sparring. More and more it seemed she was trying to hurt me. I had to keep pushing back harder just to keep myself whole. She had gained a lot from it, stronger, more evasive. More resilient, even. But at what cost?
She was, for want of a better way to put it, becoming an impossible, moody bitch.
I discovered, thanks to a training mishap, that Tempest was more of a sado-masochist than I realized. She took a low kick hard to the face, and responded by tackling me to the ground and shredding the clothing from me.
She had no intention of giving me a say, growling down at me, as her bloodied mouth dripped on my chest. Her claws scratched at me, as she violently struggled to claw away the last trappings keeping me from her.
Claire could only watch. Neither of our voices were reaching Tempest at all. Neither of us knew what to do. But as I felt the growing dissatisfaction of my snarling partner, my own frustration grew. This wasn’t how it was going to be. Not a minute more.
My hand took her tail, gripping it tight, and raising it high. The surprise and pain of it registered as a moment of surprised distraction, long enough for me to take control, almost pinning her to the ground, burying myself inside her taut ass.
Her frustration was replaced with pain, and eagerness. She didn't even try to take it slow, forcing that tight ring down my shaft, wincing, whining, and staring directly into my eyes. Her normal vivid blues tinged with a very unusual red.
She must have felt my hesitation, she all but screamed at me. “If you don't fuck me how I want it, I can find someone who will!”
Claire's thoughts were quickly taking crimson insult, and yellow-orange worry. Echoing my own sentiments. Tempest was always a little forceful, but this was beyond that. Unwelcome. Unwarranted.
She snapped at me. It was an impotent gesture as I shoved her face down, the red in her gaze growing as I took charge, violating her, roughly. “It's about time! I'm sick of you acting like you forgot your dick in your bag! Fuck me, or let me go find a worthwhile mate!”
I will spend the rest of my life wishing I could undo what happened next. It pricked my ego in a way I had no defense against, I could feel the anger welling up and had no answer on where to put it.
My hands were upon her before she could react, shoving her down on the floor, pinning her to it as I all but shoved myself into her. She struggled, briefly, but it was a moot point. “If you're going to do it, do it! But don't think for a second I'm just going to roll over because you're having a bad hair day!”
Claire couldn't watch anymore. I felt her resentment, her anger. It was white hot. Threatening to boil over. But in the heat of the moment, I felt as though I knew where things stood. My mental reassurance a streak of inky violet, clouding her fury, until, with a resigned huff, she put herself back in her pokeball.
Without her translating the words, all I had was the tone and posture, but I wasn't about to let Tempest walk on me. Every time she muttered something, I swatted her ass. Every time she growled or glared, I shoved her head down.
She howled, absolutely howled as I came inside her battered ass. She was surprised when I pulled out suddenly, shoving her face down and covering it in my release. She snarled, but that ended immediately when I slapped her already bloodied mouth, and snarled back.
“Find another man, and I will beat him until he breaks. Understand?” I more growled than said, a heavy, experienced punch striking the floor just beside her head as she flinched.
She stared, in stunned, rapt silence as I glared down at her. Her response was silent, but affirmative.
“You want to leave?” I asked, pulling open the cabin door. “You think there's a better place to go? Fucking find it.” I said, walking past her to the bathroom. “Otherwise, I suggest you remember who you are. You owe me an apology.”
As I let the hot water wash over me, I realized that it wouldn't have surprised me too much if she had left. I was angry, but mostly I was hurt. I loved her. Even so, I loved her. I didn't want her to go. And I couldn't just cave, either. We had to be a team. Or we had to move on. Life was just cruel that way.
I felt myself sink to the bottom of the tub with only the dimmest awareness. She'd managed to reduce me to a sobbing wreck, and I couldn't change a thing. I missed the way things were. I was afraid, for the first time in my life, of where they were going.
All the things she'd said… the ones Claire had allowed me to understand, hurt me in a way I'd never been hurt before. The water was frigid well before I stopped crying. I'd curled up, arms around knees, shivering, trembling. I felt alone. Utterly.
When I finally opened my eyes, she was there, and all the bitterness came back before she could make a sound.
I was on my feet, killing the tap and digging out fresh clothes as she tried vainly to get my attention. I was so angry I couldn't even look at her. The door was still half open, and I didn't even bother shutting it behind me as I walked away, leaving deep footprints in the freshly fallen snow, as Tempest stared after me from the doorway.
I could hear that condescending voice, echoing in my memory. Belittling me, spitting on our friendship, wrecking our bond. Her blood was still under my nails. I shouldn’t have hit her. Shouldn’t have done any of that. I was as guilty as she was, I knew it. I didn’t know why it happened, why it provoked me the way it did. I didn’t have an excuse. Neither of us did.
I wasn't sure where I was going. I just wanted to get there quickly. So I ran.
It would be the start of an even more painful ordeal. Some of the darkest days of my life.
--Tempest--
I had chased him away.
I hadn't meant to. I don't know what came over me. Why I said those things. Why I hurt him. I couldn’t imagine ever saying something so terrible, treating him so terribly. It didn’t make sense to me now.
I thought he'd come back. He left the door open. He left all of his things. He even left Claire and Mira. I thought he'd come back. I knew he’d come back.
Why wasn't he coming back?
What had I done?
It was getting dark. Snowing. So… so I closed the door and waited in the dark. He'd come home, and I could tell him I didn't mean it. That I loved him, and only him. He'd come back. He had to come back.
Except he didn't.
I was afraid to let Claire out. After what she heard me say. I knew how hurt and angry she was. I was afraid to face her. I was ashamed. I stared at that pokeball for the longest time. Trying to work up the nerve.
“I suggest you remember who you are.” I remembered. I remembered too late. He was so angry. It hurt me so much to know. and he wasn't home now. It was so cold, and he was out there alone. Hurt. I hurt him.
I couldn't bear it. Claire being angry was nothing compared to the agony of him being gone.
She was livid. I'd never felt her attack before. I couldn't make heads or tails of anything but the twisting claws in my mind. I'd have done anything to just make it stop. All I could see was her angry eyes, her every word was venom and fire. Blinding, overwhelming.
And I deserved it.
I deserved so much worse.
I didn’t fight back. I didn’t struggle at all. How could I? With what I’d said? With everything I’d done? She relented, as she saw. Saw how I really felt. For the first time since before I met her, I was afraid. Helpless. I was wrong, and I knew it.
She let Mira out. Mira… she hadn't seen him since yesterday. The two had grown so close. I had been jealous, but, as Claire explained, I watched her, all the pain, all the worry. All the hurt I caused her. But she didn't say a word. Didn't yell. Didn't hit me. She just crossed the room, until she was cheek to cheek with me, and we both cried.
I didn't deserve her. I didn't deserve any of them.
Claire sat, in the middle of the room, the way master had taught her. Taking away distractions, letting go of motion, sound, emotion… her breathing slowed, and we waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It was fully dark out, the wind had picked up. The snow was falling heavily.
“I can't find him.” She said, standing up, staring out the window as the snow piled up against it. Her voice was a small thing. She more whimpered than said, like a frightened child as she stared out into the howling darkness.
My heart sank.
She screamed. Agonized, heart wrenching. She had always had a connection with him. Even if it was faint, and small. She had always had something.
I took that from her. I took everything from her.
She sank to her knees, staring up at me from the floor. I couldn't look away, and it hurt so much to see her that way.
“I…” Her words caught in her throat as she sobbed. “I have to find him.”
Mira spoke up, crossing the dark, lonely room to curl up against Claire, who clutched at her like I once clutched at my mother.
She said what we all knew.
“If you go out in that, you won't come back.”
“So what do I do?” Claire asked, sobbing into Mira’s shoulder. “What do I do? He's out in it now. If he doesn't come back... “
“I'm going.” I said, staring up at the door. “This is my fault. All of it. I need to find him.”
Mira sighed, and walked to his bag. I wouldn't realize what she had done until much later.