Page 22 of Found in Obscurity

He beat the sofa cushions one by one outside, arms aching, and stripped off what he could for washing. There wasn’t a machine in the place, just a wooden tub the size of a bath outside with a metal washing board propped next to it. Something from out of ancient times.

The idea of using it was the tipping point. Tired and done for the day, Lorin took the supplies back to where he found them, turning more of the lights on as the daylight was slowly running out on them. He needed to figure out where they’d sleep and what to have for dinner. Curious, he walked over to the door closest to the bathroom, opening it slowly and poking his head inside.

The first thing that hit him was that same scent of dust and age caught between the cobwebs. And then his eyes focused. It was a tiny bedroom. A baby’s room. HIS room. With sage green walls, a tiny wardrobe, and a white crib. There were little mushrooms, hedgehogs, and snails painted along the bottom of the walls, making the small room look like an extension of the woods outside. Like it was a part of nature. Like his parents had wanted to do everything they could to make sure he was tied to his roots.

He pushed the door farther open, feeling something brush against his ankle and watching as the fox rushed inside the box room, investigating everything in sight.

He walked in after it, each step measured and careful, like there was something dangerous inside. And there was.

His past was there. The very beginning of his life. The life his parents had probably planned and dreamed of together and hoped he’d get to have. The life that had been ripped away from him way too early.

He closed the door behind him, turning in place, then freezing when his eyes stopped on a framed photo hung on the wall just behind the door.

A family portrait.

His mother, dark-haired and dark-eyed just like Lorin, dressed in a flowy yellow dress and barefoot on the grass. She stood in the arms of a tall man with brown hair and pale brown eyes behind square spectacles that caught the sunlight. And held between them, a tiny baby boy. Dressed in a simple green onesie, smiling gummily at the camera, happy and safe in the arms of his parents. Arms he got to be in for such a short time.

An embrace that was stolen from him before he was old enough to remember what it felt like.

He could feel tears rushing back into his eyes. Could feel his chin tremble and his throat close. He walked back until he hit the side of the wardrobe, sliding down the smooth surface of it and sitting on the floor, still staring at the photo.

A sob found its way out of his mouth. Another chased it. And before Lorin could even think about controlling it, he was crying, staring at the little family that was no more, breaking down in front of it.

Something soft found its way into his lap.

Settled onto his bent legs. Licked at the tears and nuzzled his neck.

He felt sharp teeth prick his skin through the gloves and looked down, finding the fox tugging at the leather until it was off. It flicked its head until the glove was on the floor and then nuzzled its way under Lorin’s palm. It shuffled around until Lorin’s fingers were tucked inside the white fur and the warmth coming from the point of contact between them made Lorin gasp.

Like comfort rushing through his veins.

Like the safety he imagined his parents’ arms had provided.

Like a promise that he’d never be alone.

Lorin dug his fingers deeper into the fur, lifting his legs until the fox was so close to his face he could bury his tears in its back.

He cried softly, and the white fluff dried the tears, never moving, never leaving.

Kit

Despite the rocky start filled with emotions, tears, and uncertainty, their day had shaped up to be one of the better ones Kit had had in a while. He’d spent so much time alone that just having someone around made a world of difference. But beingwith his own mate, the other half of him, just made everything so much better. So much more important and meaningful.

Kit was beside himself.

He wanted to make Lorin see just how good it would be now that they were together. He was determined to be the best mate and familiar to this witch. He’d show him just how important they’d be to each other.

Each smile on Lorin’s face at his antics was like a brush of warm hands against his fur.

Each little chuckle he managed to pull out was like a tasty treat just for him.

He knew he was being a bit over-the-top, but it was who he was, and it made him happy to know that Lorin seemed to enjoy his personality. At least, Kit thought so, seeing as how Lorin tried to keep up a steady stream of conversation between them as he cleaned the small space.

He did not, however, appreciate being called every dumb name under the sun by his mate. Absolutely not. Wiggles? Skip? Mo?

No.

None of those suited him, and he already had a name. A name he quite liked. A name he hoped he’d find a way to relay to his mate so he’d know what to call him. So he’d know who Kit really was.