Arvetis stood in the entry to the old warren, looking at the torchlit rabbit standing at the other end of the stone chamber. “I can’t stay out there. I’ll die, or hurt someone. I don’t know.”

“Let me see you,” said Geraden. He held out his arms.

Arvetis stepped further in, the wolf’s toenails clicking on the stone pavers. “It’s barely changed in here.”

“No,” Geraden said. “It hasn’t changed at all. Welcome back.”

Arvetis turned his face down. “I don’t know what you can do for me.”

“You know what I can do. If you want it.”

“How can I know what I want? I think I want it, but is that really me? Or...”

The rabbit moved closer, now almost nose-to-nose with Arvetis. He took the small pendant around his neck in one paw and held it up in the torchlight. It flickered dully, like any crystal, but emitted no light of its own. “Does it look like I’m doing anything? Your thoughts are your own right now, pup. And your desires.”

Arvetis’s cheeks reddened. Evidently, he had no retort. “Sit with me,” Geraden said, lowering himself onto the stone floor, his legs crossed. Arvetis followed, almost out of reflex. “Even after everything?”

“Even after everything,” the rabbit said, accepting Arvetis into his lap.  He put one arm around his shoulders, running his other paw through the wolf’s short-cropped black hair.  “You cut it.”

“I’m old.”

That drew a long laugh from Geraden. “Yes, you’re such a very big pup.”

“Stop it,” Arvetis whispered, and lowered his nose. Geraden frowned and sighed, running his thumb over the wolf’s scars – one across each cheek bone, under the eyes, now the dull pink of long-healed flesh. Their angry red had faded.

“They didn’t work,” Arvetis said. “It’s my fault.”

Geraden shook his head, moving his thumb to catch the tear running down Arvetis’s cheek. “Not everything that ends has failed. Will you let me help again?”

“Will I survive?”

“That’s up to you.”

Arvetis stared at his upturned paws, his head resting on the rabbit’s chest. Their mingled shadow flickered on the ancient stone walls of the warren. “Please.”

Geraden continued holding Arvetis for a few long minutes before taking the crystal back into his paw. Now it glinted more brightly, and seemed to contribute its own purple-pink glow to the red firelight. Arvetis took in a sharp breath. “I feel...”

“Ssh.”

Arvetis felt Geraden inside his own mind. At first it almost hurt, but only the way stretching a muscle he hadn’t used in years would hurt. Show me everything, he heard, and knew he could not disobey.

He closed his eyes and saw the red of the torchlight through his eyelids. It was redder than that, though; the red of hate, the red of fresh scars, the red of ten years of wandering and broken promises.

“It’s been so long,” one of them said. Through his closed lids, Arvetis saw the purple glow of Geraden and his amulet. It stood next to the red, but moving closer and inward. He knew Geraden was seeing everything, even the shameful, hateful bits he thought nobody would ever know. Even the real reason he left in the first place, stripped of its pretty excuses, almost lewd in its pettiness.

“I’m sorry,” Geraden said. “I have to.”

“I know,” Arvetis breathed. He went limp in the rabbit’s lap as the purple blended with the red behind his closed eyes, like a child’s finger paints. His knees drew to his chest as he gave control up to the rabbit, and his bladder released. He felt the warm wetness spread across his groin and down his thighs, but he knew that wasn’t his business. If it was wrong, Geraden would stop it.

Geraden didn’t stop it.  He held the curling wolf closer in his lap, pressing his color further on Arvetis’s. The mix was almost all purple now, only a hint of red. Arvetis was barely a shade, and that was just fine with him.  He could use some time off from himself. His head flopped nervelessly over Geraden’s shoulder. “You’re going to be fine,” Arvetis said with Geraden’s voice. “You’re back, and you’re going to be all right.”

***

Arvetis woke up in a small room, warmed by a fireplace, the stone walls softened with wood paneling. Coming to himself, he realized it was his old room, kept unchanged since his departure. He was again in Geraden’s lap, but they were sitting on a cushioned chair. His wet pants had been removed, and a thick diaper spread his thighs. He pressed his nose into Geraden’s chest fur.

“Look who survived,” the rabbit said.

Arvetis closed his eyes again. The red was back… but not all of it.  Some of it was gone, carried away when the purple left. It was not replaced with black, just emptiness. For him to fill again, or not, as he pleased.

“Again?” he whispered.

“Tomorrow,” Geraden said. He leaned down and kissed the wolf’s forehead.
