Llouyern and Sionnach “Haa... haa…” Mr. Fox breathed in the cold stagnant air. The taste of it made him sick, but he couldn’t do much else to ease the anger just yet. He hated being back in Talyoh more than he could express. The air was one of the harshest reminders of why. It tasted like the soot from the mines, and it burned his throat. Even if he was inexplicably spared from the sickness it caused, he couldn’t stomach it nowadays. “Cinders I wish I had something to smoke.” He’d quit years ago now. He didn’t even keep the pipe on him anymore. All he could do was chew on the bit of paper he still kept to replace it. “Ah! That’s a terrible habit, ol’ friend.” Mr. Fox’s eyes shot open abruptly. He hadn’t even been fully aware he’d shut them. He’d been so close to drifting off into some unpleasant memories that one had walked up behind him without him noticing. “I might still have some of yer ol’ favorite back home though. Dinnae expect to see ye’ here though, so I cannae say fer sure.” Mr. Fox refused to turn and look at his old friend. He’d not been looking forward to this moment this whole trip, but he especially didn’t look forward to the idea of being ambushed without the rest of his comrades. “S’pose this is what I get for steppin’ out for a breather.” He nodded to himself, and pointedly turned back to look at the house he’d left his friends in, away from the voice. “That you, Sionnach?” “Aye, ye’d know if ye bothered to look my way, ye’ daft man.” The voice cackled, and Mr. Fox felt a chill run down his spine as Sionnach moved closer. His old friend forced the issue of their meeting then, setting a paw on his shoulder. It gave Mr. Fox something of a start. The touch sent a massive chill down his whole body. It was a familiar cold, but far stronger than usual. Making it worse, when he turned to look at his old friend, he ended up looking at a ridiculous bird skull mask instead of the wild face he remembered. He might have laughed had the cackle of that friend not sent even more of a shiver down his spine. “What is it that brings ye here, Llouyern? Thought ye said I’d seen the last of ye.” Mr. Fox’s fur bristled. He could hear the resentment dripping from Sionnach’s mouth, even if the overall tone was cheerful to the point of being ecstatic. A plume of smoke billowed around him, but he didn’t opt to get into a fighting stance just yet. Right now they were here to negotiate, technically. “I’ve brought a friend I wanted you to meet.” He spoke stoically, trying not to betray the anger that was burning in his chest. Maybe if he could get Sionnach to Ghost, they could all get out of here faster than he’d hoped. Of course, he wasn’t surprised when his old friend threw a wrench in things. “It’d be a pleasure, o’course. But I would nae o’ come ‘ere lookin’ for ye’ if I had nae wanted some o’ yer time fer meself!” He was cheerful enough in the way he talked that he almost sounded sincere. “A cup o’ cider ‘fore I meet this friend, what’dya say?” The real surprise was that Mr. Fox genuinely thought about going along with such a brazen request. It would probably be a minute before ghost and the rest of the guild finished their business in the bumblebun sanctuary. “Aye, I can spare a minute for ye.” Mr. Fox shook his head, already regretting the thought, but if he could keep Sionnach with him, this whole ordeal would be over in no time. All he had to do was keep him busy. So, with that in mind, he shook the icy paw off his shoulder and started walking. “Yer place, aye? I know the way.” It wasn’t far. The wisp could keep up with his tracks. --- Sionnach stayed uncomfortably close the whole walk, and kept Mr. Fox feeling uncomfortably cold the whole way, colder than usual in fact. Sionnach had a knack for ice magic since their discovery back in the sootpipes, but he was still colder than Mr. Fox remembered. The things they’d talked about on the way to getting a warm cider ready didn’t help either. “So good to see ye again, Llouyern.” That was most of it. “Honestly dinnae think I’d ever have the pleasure o’ hostin’ ye ever again?” That was the rest of it, peppered with a few, “Thank the Only One’s grace!” It all made Mr. Fox feel like he was burning up with how furious it made him. Sionnach was talking like he’d abandoned him and their spirit-forsaken town the way he went on. Worse than that, he seemed to be under the delusion that now that Llouyern was back, things were gonna bright right up for Talyoh. Mr. Fox sighed to himself at the threshold to Sionnach’s home. He was given just a moment’s reprieve while his old friend went to fetch the cider. That gave him the chance to cool the anger. It wasn’t exactly like his old friend was wrong about either point. If he could get the little wisp to cleanse him, things might have just the slightest chance at looking better, or at least not getting any worse. A bit of poor instinct made him want to try without Ghost’s help though. He kicked the snow off his shoes and followed his friend in. Sionnach lead him up past the cold entry hall and to his office. Mr. Fox noted the bed tucked in the corner, untouched and somehow just as cold as the empty halls before they’d gotten here. “Jus’ take a seat anywhere, ol’ friend. I’ll be right back.” Mr. Fox took a seat in a chair by the mayoral desk, waiting for Sionnach to return with the cider. He took a look around the done up office. The whole place was done up with Only One heraldry, and a few papers scattered around made it look a bit lived in. But at the same time everything seemed like it had been untouched for days at least based on the fine layers of dust and the chill about. No doubt Sionnach barely spent any time here. He couldn’t help but wonder what occupied most of his friends time nowadays as he waited for that cider. “Can’t believe you’re still here.” He said it more to himself than his friend. Sionnach was back faster than expected thankfully, not giving him much time to wonder. “I s’pose most of me time is spent doin’ the only one’s work, aye.” He laughed again as he approached from the hallway. This time that cackle sent a chill all the way up Mr. Fox’s tail. “But we all need a place to hang our hat don’ we?” Mr. Fox sighed again. It was obviously a deliberate misunderstanding of what he meant. That wasn’t surprising. Sionnach always had a way of doing that, even before he’d become so devoted to his one god. That being said, the actual meaning of the phrase had eluded the fox until his old friend walked back in with the cider. He had hung his hat up in the hall before coming in to dine, and his coat had gone with it. Rather suddenly Llouyern was face to face with a near naked image of a former friend in the most uncomfortable way possible. All that Sionnach kept on was his trousers and that strange bird mask And making it worse, he didn’t even acknowledge the act, at least not directly. “Aye, it’s a true blessin’ to have a private place for rest with ol’ mates, ain’t it?” He set the warmed cider down and sat in the chair right across from Llouyern. The sparkle in his old eyes bore signs of a smile like old times, as if years hadn’t passed since their last meeting and they weren’t both shadows of themselves. Mr. Fox noted that in particular. The lithe, thin form of his old friend wasn’t wholly unfamiliar, but it had moved from merely lithe to gaunt and the fur that adorned it had gone from messy to unkempt. He very nearly looked sick. “Don’ get much in the way o’ rest nowadays do ye, Sionnach?” Mr. Fox took his cider and sipped it gingerly. It was as familiar as Sionnac’s body. There was a sour taste that shouldn’t have been there, but it did warm his belly. It made him want to curse, maybe even storm off. The burning in his chest was getting bright enough he knew he couldn’t stay long. “What d’ye mean by all this anyway, Sionnach?” he couldn’t contain it all, so he glared at his friend. “Surely yer not daft enough to just think we can go at it like ol’ times?” Sionnach’s face drooped. He held his own cider tightly in both palms. “Forgive a lonely ol’ fox, Llouyern.” He tried to laugh and keep that smile in his voice, but it faltered very obviously, even as he lifted his head up and his voice with it. “I’ll own up to it, o’course. Just a lonesome ol’ man lookin’ fer a bit o’ warmth from friends on a cold evenin’.” He managed his cackle once the truth was out. Then of course he had to go on. “Though ye comin’ into town ‘gainst all odds was the Only One’s blessing fer a desperate man.” The word lonesome made the burning in Mr. Fox’s flare up and burn itself out. Sionnach stood up and made carried himself around the desk to stand beside the chair Llouyern was sat on. Llouyern turned away but didn’t move, even when a cold paw brushed his cheek. His eyes darted at the pictures all about the place though. There were plenty of pictures about of the people of Talyoh, so few of Sionnach, just one or two of him and Llouyern’s family. “Ye really never found someone else, ye ol’ fool?” Llouyern closed his eyes, tried to keep the burning down. It was easier with the cold grip around his neck, though it got a bit harder when Sionnach undid the button of his coat and started to peel off his layers. Without that rage though, it was hard to keep back the tears. “Burn it. What’re we doin’?” “I tried I’ll have ye know.” Sionnach laughed again, the sad laugh his time. Llouyern felt the cold brush over his paws as his gloves were pulled off next. He helped Sionnach pull the coat off and set it aside after that. “None warmed me soul like ye, Llouyern.” He pet Llouyern’s paw and neck. Wandering claws moved to undo the second coat. “What I’d give t’ feel that warmth again.” Llouyern helped his old friend along now, pulling his arms up and out of his coat while Sionnach undid the front. With eyes closed the process was slow, but you can’t expect speed when you’re driven by guilt. In short order he was laid bare for those cold paws to wander, stinging while they clashed against the burning in his chest and belly. The clash got even more intense when it was finally time for those paws to wander down to the old fox’s hips. He opened his eyes then. It was his turn to cast Sionnach the sad glance at last. “He started looking down at the paw on his groin, and grabbed it gingerly. It was familiar, if wrong. It was gaunt, the fur thinner than he remembered it. That theme kept up as his paw travelled up his friends arm and settled on his chest. He looked Sionnach over. His friend was entirely laid bare now, only keeping the odd bird mask on. The body was painfully familiar. A few long nights that Llouyern remembered after his wife had passed away were old treasures he tried not to reflect on often, but he couldn’t help but wander back to them now. Even younger nights in the Sootpipes were starting to bleed in and overwhelm him, spark up that old flame again. Paws wandered up to the still full fur on Sionnach’s cheeks, aiming to pull loose the mask. They were stopped by a harsh, cold grip. Llouyern tried not to act shocked. “Can’t leave yer Only One behind even now, eh?” “S’ all tha’ keeps me goin’ most days.” The cackle sounded again, and the chill ran down Llouyern’s spine, but this time it didn’t douse other warmth. Even the cold paw undoing his pants didn’t manage to douse that. Sionnach stood shakily and turned his back to face Llouyern, lifting his tail high for his friend. That really sparked up that familiar flame. “Give it a go yerself, and we’ll see if I still need it, aye?” “Aye… why not?” Llouyern’s paws grasped at his friend’s gaunt hips. Sionnach had always felt cold. At least, he had since Llouyern had felt him like this. The magic he used had that effect, though neither of them had bothered to explore why. That cold was familiar then, but like everything else, it was wrong. While Sionnach settled back against his groin, that cold shook him to his very core. And the warmth shook Sionnach. “Aye! There it is!” He cheered and shivered, his tail whipping to and fro as he rubbed himself against his old friend. The heat of Llouyern’s cock was undeniable. The old flame was sparking up slow but strong. Llouyern felt it run over his body and flow through his fur, smoke billowing off in small gasps. And with the old flame focused as his cock began to poke out of it’s sheath, he had no doubt that Sionnach could feel it coming off him. “Please ol’ friend, I beg of ye.” The neediness was just as it was before. Llouyern grabbed Sionnach’s hips and held them still. The other fox couldn’t overpower him. All he could do was steady himself on the desk beside them and allow Llouyern to take control. And Llouyern did so, taking his old friend and running that chilly tail cross himself, working that flame in his groin up to a raging fire as his cock jutted out to full mast. He laid back and closed his eyes, trying not to think about the present. He recalled the same desperate pleading in the night, in his old bed and in Sionnac’s bed, back before either of them was burdened with aches and loss. He held tight to those noises, so much like they were before, begging for a warm touch. He reached for Sionnach’s chest and abruptly pulled him back, granting him that warmth by pressing his fiery fur against the freezing fox. Sionnac’s cold washed away in the embrace, at least on the surface. That was all on the surface though, the emptiness within still left the fox atop Llouyern writhing, begging for it to be filled. He flailed even, his mask clattering to the floor with a loud clunk as he grabbed at Llouyern’s arms and threw himself back in desperation. All the while Llouyern had the lead though holding those hips and maintaining the pace, just rubbing up against Sionnach and pacing himself. “Cinders! Must ye always leave me waitin’, Llouyern!” Sionnach cursed, then gasped. Though he wouldn’t like to think about it, that curse aimed his way drove Llouyern o desperate measures. Trying not to think about the past any more, Llouyern pulled his friend back and down. It was desperate but practiced, and it got them both to shout as fire met ice inside of the gaunt fox. Sensations blended in a mad whorl, Llouyern feeling a rush of cold that merely made his flame fight back further, and Sionnach feeling a burning that threatened to melt away every part of his being. It was exactly like days of old. For Llouyern, past came rising to the present so viciously he couldn’t dash it away, but thankfully he couldn’t focus on it either. He felt as a spirit, bigger than the moment and still burning only in the present. His mind rushed, but his body rushed more. He thrust harder and harder, each motion as though he was stoking a fire, desperate to warm his friend. The only thought that stuck was a needy, hopeless one, one he couldn’t stop himself voicing through tears he wouldn’t acknowledge. “Sionnach, hold t’ me.” He didn’t want to be alone. He came quickly and passionately, filling his friend with every spark of flame he could muster. Above him, Sionnach writhed and moaned, all but screamed. The cold around them melted away almost entirely, and Sionnach held tight to the paws around his chest. “Hold t’ me, ye’ daft old fool…” Sionnach sounded back softly, just like the last time. And just like the last time, he continued to writhe and wag his tail wildly hoping to tak in every bit of the flame that Llouyern provided. Llouyern chanced opening his eyes to catch that writhing. And despite the cold that still washed over Sionnach’s fur, the way it flew about reminded him of fire, the true embodiment of the foxtrae’s spirit within the desperate, passionate form of his friend. He held tighter on seeing it, knowing how hard it was to catch that flame. Unfortunately for both of them, no flame burns eternal, even in the spirit of the foxtrae. It calmed leaving Llouyern sweating and satisfied. He’d let it burn full force as long as he could, but eventually he needed to breathe. “Soot ‘n cinders.” He swore, holding his friend tighter as the warmth died down, feeling a need to not let the passion go. “Sionnach… hold t’ me…” Sionnachs grip slipped then. “No… no no…” He shook, this time, completely unfamiliar. There was a moment, just a brief one where it seemed he would go limp. That would be welcome. Llouyern remembered their first romp, where the warmth had faded and he’d found himself laying under a cold limp blanket of a man. But this time, that limpness didn’t stay. Rather than allowing himself to melt, Sionnach hardened. “Why…. Not even ye, Llouyern….” The gaunt fox was breathing heavy above him, and the cold was rushing in as Llouyern continued to hold tight. “Sionnach? Ol’ friend.” His own grip loosened nervously and Sionnach tore away, leaning forward to grasp onto the desk again. Gingerly, Llouyern brushed his friends back, though, in spite of what he felt, he couldn’t bring himself to voice the concern. With the cold rushing in all he could manage was another quiet call. “Sionnach?” “Aye. I shoulda known.” The cackle returned and the chill with it. Sionnach stood shakily, pulling himself free from Llouyern without a thought. “A rush, but nae more than that.” The chill sank in deeper to Llouyern, and he pulled his paw back. Without thinking, he covered himself. Sionnac soon did the same, turning to the mask that had fallen to the floor. “Forgive, me, ol’ friend. I knew we could nae be more separate than ever before. I s’pose the Only One’s grace truly is all I’ve got left.” He spoke happily, with a smile. But when he turned to pick up his mask, Mr. Fox watched him knowingly. His old friend’s body bent, broken to reach the floor, all the fur was gone from his muzzle, leaving it naught more than bone, and there wasn’t a spark of life left in his old tired eyes. “Well, a mayor’s work is never done.” He cackled again, placing the mask back on. “Thank ye fer indulgin’ an old fool, Llouyern.” His tail wagged, and with the mask back on there seemed a spark of life back, though it was tinted red with loneliness, a determination that shook Mr. Fox more than any of the cold or the chills had. “Perhaps another reunion another time! If ye stay ‘round Talyoh o’course. We always could use more help fixin’ the place up.” Mr. Fox’s chest burned. Hate, anger, guilt, and rage started to boil inside of it. All of it kept him frozen to his seat. “I mentioned I had a friend I need ye to meet, Sionnach.” He thought back to the guild and the wisp, his only shallow hope of reaching his old friend now. Desperate, he reached out just to keep him in place. “Yer not jus’ gonna leave me cold ‘ere now, are ye?” “The cold’s all we got, Llouyern, ye know as well as I do.” He cackled again as he walked away, heading back to the hall to dress himself. “If ye’ve brought new friends though, I’m around town, ye’ll never have trouble findin’ me if ye stay.” He laughed sadly one more time. “Ye can stay here long as ye will too.” Mr. Fox felt the cold brush over his shoulder just a moment, then it was gone. A door closed and he was left to sit with that burning in his chest. He had thought about how to tell Sionnach not to go, or to follow him, but he couldn’t. Frozen as he was, he had o bundle up first before he could do more. He got himself dressed, and tried not to linger. He’d need to make it back to the guild. With the help of his comrades, they’d be in Talyoh for as little time as he could possibly make it. He’ll only stop long enough for the briefest smoke to warm himself.