beech: (Default)
beech ([personal profile] beech) wrote2016-08-15 10:05 pm

drabbles: snowflakes and fireflakes

For Kia... enjoy. c:




The hunters are unexpected.

Deciding to take a prolonged stay at the cabin with Aisuma, Gable and Nilak, Aisuma invites her with him to collect foodstuffs. Engel’s anxious eyes follow her back the whole time but she feels comfortable—who is going to attack someone like Aisuma anyway? He may be small, but his horns, enormous clawed hands and feet and (of course) iron-tipped tail is nothing to scoff at.

However, these hunters do. They see her, a florox, far from safety and make their move.

She isn’t certain what happens. One moment Aisuma shouts, and then things fly from afar. A blur of colour and she’s caught up in familiar arms, face buried in a familiar cloak as Engel bundles her away to safety, his eyes burning.

He throws himself back into the fray without making a noise, that cold winter-like silence far more frightening than Nilak’s distant, furious howl.




Engel doesn’t really drink. One day, Perennial learns why.

“Honestly,” she mutters, tightening her grip on the arm over her shoulders. Dragged into a drinking match by the loud, laughing larvestri at the bar, she hadn’t thought Engel had a competitive side either. Yet here they are, with Engel stumbling to stay on his feet, muttering nonsensical words close to one of her ears. So close she feels like she has to flick it down, flat against her hair.

He owes her for this. Big time.




Perennial stops, looking with a slightly annoyed expression around the inn room they’re staying at the night.

Engel isn’t bad to travel with. In fact, when it comes to travelling with him, he tends to be organized—he never forgets something they might need, he never forgets anything necessary, but when they’re in a building someplace suddenly his dirty clothes are over chairs and things are strewn everywhere. Would it kill him to arrange things? Who cares if it’s just one night!

And the guilty party, the elf himself… is off making new garments for her in a corner. While Perennial wants to be more annoyed with him, it’s tricky when she watches him carefully weave together wool into a charming little set of gloves.




Engel stops and Per stops with him—they’re just passing through a village (she’s always leery but Engel is faithful in his pledge to keep her safe), and yet something draws his eye. Suspecting it’s something useful or something he might want to get for her (he has the weirdest tendency to want to buy gifts for her, mostly practical so it’s difficult to refuse) she side-steps to peek inside and.

It’s not practical. Or useful.

It’s a small, plush little doll that’s receiving the full brunt of an adoring (what passes for adoring) stare from Engel as he chews on a corner of his lips.

“…Do you want to get it?” she asks after a few moments.

Engel’s cheeks colour faintly pink and he looks away without answering. Finding the reaction a bit too endearing to handle, Perennial ushers him into the store, sweeps off and returns to shove the newly-bought plush doll into his hands when she emerges with a grand, “For all the things you’ve bought me.”

…While fighting off her own blush.




“Here you go.”

A egg, warm and heavy, black and yellow like the typhlosion who’s the daddy of it, is deposited right into Yang’s arms and she oofs slightly under the weight, eyeing it doubtfully. Naoki is already busy shifting the others, though, Nova watching them with all the glee of a new parent.

“You know,” she says, hefting the egg, “I was good with just one egg and one baby to look after…”

“Too bad,” Naoki replies, grinning over his shoulder as he holds two other eggs in the crooks of his arms. Nova watches, his ears and nose twitching happily. From the daycare, it’s back to the inn they’ve been staying at. “I’m not handling Nova’s babies by myself.”

She rolls her eyes but, deep down, Yang is looking forward to rolling in a pile of snuggly cyndaquils…and training them in secret how to attack Naoki whenever they want something.