A cozy fire. A man snoozing a ways beside it. The faint linger of dirty socks scattered in the dirt, abandoned and uncared for. Just like the items and supplies which sat around-- some in piles, and others set next to the men's bed-pile of hay. One which Cain had offered to share with Akihito, lest he be more comfortable alone. There was more than enough room for the addition to their small troupe, even if the place was a dump of lost men.
The time before dawn where the animals hadn't quite risen from slumber felt eerily quiet. Cain was already up and awake, keeping up the fire without smoke. Instead, the smoke flowed out through his nostrils and mouth as he released each breath. Even while he rested he continued to control the flames.
Bright orange-hued irises gazed over the exposed bruising on the demon's face while he lost himself in thought. He was waiting for his old friend to stir, but didn't dare wake the battered soul. Things needed to be discussed, but in time. Akihito would be an excellent addition-- no, a start to their group of boys. A reboot of their tale, and a start of a new legacy.
But his initial soft demeanor hid his darkened roots. His behavior at the jail was nothing like he remembered. With that alone, there was no hope. But as he watched the man's chest rise and lower in rhythmic breathing, he recalled the taste of something sour. A bile that used to fuel himself. The thrilling feeling-- what the men used to be.
As he sat beside the damned being, he leaned over and reached for his hair. Gently, he traveled through strands to the roots, and left his hand there as memories bubbled up from the forgotten.
Akihito's closed eyes winced at the touch, and he woke, looking hazily in Cain's direction. It took a moment for him to realize what was going on, but he pressed his head farther against the man's hand when he did. He'd never been so hungry for soft connections.
I wonder what he thinks of you now, weak and timid and posing as an ass-kissing angel.
The demon sat up silently, watching an ant navigate through a few scattered acorn tops. He was timid now. Afraid of how he looked, fallen before his followers who honored him in every way all those years ago, doing all he requested under the threat of a knife- though some of them never needed much convincing. Cain was one of them. A loyal warrior, and one Akihito had brought awful close to himself throughout his reign, by the smoothness of his tongue. Very close.
I don't have that in me anymore.
This of course was a lie, but he tried to believe so.
"Smells like rain." He rasped quietly in his ragged throat, glancing up at the heavy clouds rolling over them in the early darkness.
"A much needed drink for the land." Cain agreed, bringing his gaze up to the clouds overhead. Only after Akihito sat up fully did the flamesman pull his hand away and set it in his lap. "But an annoying situation for us. I'll raise the tarps." He sighed, before waving away the smoke which flowed from him.
Rising to his feet, he patted off his behind for stray clumps of hay as per morning routine. After a light stretch he shuffled over to the somewhat neatly folded pile of tarps and extended one open. However, after counting the few he planned to use, he only then noticed that one was missing-- hidden under Dominic's frame as he snoozed away before sunrise.
"Please, continue to rest. Morning has not yet come and your injuries are severe, my friend." Words from the heart came with a sternness, as he'd have forced the man back to bed if need be. Besides, Akihito hadn't the strength to put him in his place yet.
"What do you prefer now for breakfasts? The camp looks as a dump, but with it our supplies are plentiful."
He fidgeted with his ear, playing with hoops and piercings that weren't there- a habit Akihito still had after all this time.
"Anything. Anything would be phenomenal."
He wanted honeyed venison, one of his favorite foods and a dish he'd required for himself nearly every morning back in the day. Amazing that he craved it even now, in his new body. The demon watched as Cain went about preparing for morning, and he hated being unable to help.
"My wounds will heal and when they do, I want to be put to use." His eyes travelled downwards in thought. "Find work in a village, perhaps."
