thoth
we spend all our time running for our lives, going nowhere

Thoth shunted on the bed as Grayson started to speak, avoiding looking at him. The memories of that day were as clear as if they’d happened yesterday. He could recall drenching Tris in water when the latter had shaken him awake, the ensuing discussion, the way Grayson had angrily intervened… A fresh burst of rage over the historic injustice coiled in Thoth’s stomach and he had to bite it back rather forcefully.

Grayson’s voice now was soft and low, a slight quaver detectable in it, and his facial expression was… unreadable. He was tugging on his hands, his mouth straight, his eyes wide, forehead wrinkled. Thoth could tell he wasn’t happy because he wasn’t smiling, but that was about all he could work out. It was easier to go on the words, which were at least expressive of remorse. Sort of. Gray didn’t seem too bothered about not being liked by Thoth. Obviously this wasn’t an attempt to kindle a friendship, if he could live with dislike; that, or he didn’t like Thoth either, which seemed likely. Most people didn’t like Thoth. He had four fairy friends in Tris, Danny, Thea and Cypress, and that was about the extent of his positive relationships with non-animals.

“You don’t like me either,” he said bluntly and factually, as though this were something he’d read in a book and attached no emotion to. He wrinkled his nose. “You told me to stop sulking when my mum died like an infant who got his toy taken away. And you told me I was acting like a fool.” His forehead dropped into a characteristic scowl as the memories came rushing back, the precise words burned into his brain. “You said I was rude, and awkward, and you stood over me, and you were loud, and in my face.”

The words got faster and more charged as they tumbled out. The fact that Thoth identified Gray standing over him and speaking loudly as on par with the barbed words indicated the depth of vulnerability those memories provoked. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his good arm around them and hid his face. The rest of what Grayson said was lost; all Thoth could hear now was his own heart beating in his ears.

That was, until another sound penetrated, simply because it was out of place: clapping. He glanced up, still frowning, and felt his jaw go slack immediately. Morveren was bounding down the aisle, her long, whiplike tail thrashing from side to side, soaking in the attention that the nurses and healers were giving her. She’d grown since the last time she was here, but the warmth with which she was received showed how well she was remembered. A few of the workers paused their duties to drop and give her a pat or a scratch behind the ear. One or two people clapped and a few others called out her name in greeting. Clearly thrilled by it all, Morv ran round in a couple of circles before she came charging down the ward, ducking under people’s legs. No one seemed to mind. She made a beeline for Thoth’s bed but swung at the last minute, leaping onto Grayson’s. With a loud brrr! of excitement, she began climbing all over him, her entire body waggling with the force of her thrashing tail.

“Morv – ” Thoth started in exasperation, reaching out to one-handedly catch a vase of flowers which Morv’s tail had just sent careening towards the floor. “Leave him alone.”

Morveren did not leave him alone. She clambered all over Grayson’s body, chattering nonsense.