𝕿he S𝖔und 𝖔f Br𝖔ken 𝕿hunder - Stri and Socks

Orpheus didn’t dodge that in time either, and found his hair wet and the white of his shirt becoming just a little bit translucent. He didn’t mind. It was nice to take a break and just… mess around like this. To pretend that the world wasn’t against them, that they could act like children on a summer day. He stayed still for a few moments, watching where Myrnin moved to, then kicked out to try to get more water in Myrnin’s direction. It was a bigger splash than the one before, though not quite as directed.
“The entire point of boats is to keep you dry!” Orpheus retorted, shedding off some of the weight that had coated his tone since… well. Since. There was a very clear before and after. He shook the thought off. Not now. Now, he was enjoying himself. He leaned down to send another large splash Myrnin’s direction, allowing a small smile to touch the corners of his lips.
Things may never go back to normal. That didn’t mean he couldn’t take a normal, happy moment for himself when the opportunity presented itself.

Orpheus scrambled out of the water as Myrnin did, eyes wide as he tried to search for what might be wrong. There was very clearly something wrong, from what Myrnin was doing and saying. Was the shivering a symptom of something else, or was it just that Myrnin was cold and he didn’t have a lot of experience being cold.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, coming as close as he dared get. He didn’t want to crowd Myrnin or make him feel even worse than he already did, but he couldn’t help if he couldn’t get that close. “Did something bite you, or… or something? I don’t think there would be leeches here, but…” he glanced into the water, trying to see if he could tell what was wrong. Maybe it was just the shivering.
“Let’s… let’s get you warmed back up,” he murmured, awkwardly lifting his shirt over his head and offering it to Myrnin as a towel. “The water’s usually pretty cold this time of year, the sun… the sun will help dry you and make you warm, and then… then maybe you can show me what’s wrong.”

Orpheus didn’t know why Myrnin had reacted the way he did to the cold, but there were any number of possible reasons, and the only thing Orpheus was certain about was that none of them were any of his business. If Myrnin was sensitive to cold, he could tell him why if he wanted to, but if not… then Orpheus would never know. He wasn’t going to ask, and he wasn’t going to force Myrnin to tell.
“Thank you,” he murmured, taking his shirt back and offering Myrnin the best comforting smile he could muster up. “You don’t think about how cold the water gets sometimes,” he said, hoping that might cheer Myrnin up a little bit. “I mean… this was frozen not too long ago, and I guess water is really good at staying the same temperature over a long period of time. Refreshing to drink, but easy to get too cold if you’re not careful.” Perhaps they would have to avoid any other bodies of water. Orpheus didn’t want to get Myrnin into any more uncomfortable situations. He shrugged his damp shirt back on, awkwardly pulling at it where the wet fabric had gotten itself all twisted up.
“Maybe… now would be a good time to move on and find something else? You… haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Oh. Well… that hadn’t been what Orpheus had been expecting. He didn’t know quite what that meant. He didn’t know anyone who never ate, which probably meant that Myrnin wasn’t strictly human. Which was fine with Orpheus, he had spent plenty of time with people who weren’t human before, but… it did require Orpheus to reframe things a little bit in his head. If Myrnin wasn’t human, then… what was he? A god? Not one Orpheus had ever heard of, unless he was a god in disguise. While it would be best to treat him with respect anyway, the possibility of him being a god seemed unlikely enough that Orpheus wasn’t planning on treating him any different.
“Well,” he murmured, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck, “I hope that means you’re not human. Or at least… if you are, that you aren’t going on some kind of hunger strike that might hurt you in the long run. As long as you really don’t need to eat and you’re not just skipping it because you feel like you should… then I’m okay.” Not that Myrnin needed his approval, but… he seemed a little bit on edge. Orpheus wanted to relieve him of that.

Orpheus glanced at the sky, almost surprised it wasn’t dark yet. It felt like he had known Myrnin for much longer than he had. Perhaps he’d gotten a little bit too used to the idea of travelling with him. He didn’t know what he wanted, couldn’t say for sure that moving around and never settling anywhere would be good for him, but… it felt easier than dwelling on the past. It felt easier than trying to start over and move on, because… because everything still affected him, whether he wanted it to or not.
It didn’t really matter to Orpheus that Myrnin wasn’t human. As long as he wasn’t planning on hurting anyone, they would get along just fine. And Myrnin seemed nice, so far. Inhuman didn’t necessarily correlate with monster, and monster was a relative term anyway.
“Yes,” he murmured after a moment, turning to look at Myrnin. “Wherever it takes us, I guess. Maybe… maybe home, eventually.” He didn’t know where home was. He doubted it would ever be Thrace again.

“Right,” Orpheus murmured, only just realizing that he really was tired He had gotten used to ignoring it, gotten used to just pushing through, because it almost felt that if he was tired, he didn’t have room to feel sad, too. It didn’t work like that. He was both tired and sad. Orpheus cast a quick look around, taking in their surroundings. It was… nice. It wasn’t like home, but… he hadn’t expected it to be. And having someone here with him was better than he could have hoped for, even if he didn’t feel like he deserved it in the slightest.
“Here’s fine,” he said after a long moment, letting out a soft breath of air. “It’s… it’s far enough away from the town that we don’t have to worry about people stumbling upon us.” He frowned a little bit, tilting his head as he looked at Myrnin.
“Do you… not need to rest? Even if you don’t sleep, aren’t there things you need to do to recharge? Nobody can run endlessly without resting somehow.” The concern was evident in his voice, even as he tried to stifle it. He didn’t want Myrnin to think he was being a mother hen. He just… wanted to make things as easy for his companion as he could.

“Okay,” Orpheus replied softly, giving a small nod. “If you think that will help, then… I believe you. And I hope it will.” He didn’t know much about Myrnin. He didn’t really know about vampires, and he didn’t know much other than that Myrnin wasn’t going to sleep the same way he did. But still… resting felt like a good idea, and they were isolated enough that they probably wouldn’t need to keep guard. Besides, it’s not like they had anything valuable if someone tried to mug them. Orpheus wasn’t sure he even had any money, and the one valuable object he had owned was lying in the grass miles and miles away. For the first time, he desperately wanted it back.
“The morning sounds good,” Orpheus added softly, curling in on himself and staring at the sky as he tried to let sleep come to him. It wasn’t as easy as it had been. His thoughts used to race with thoughts of music and hope. Now they felt heavy, weighted down by despair. Which was far more depressing than he usually was, so he tried to push back against it and let sleep take him.
-
He woke up tired. There were lines across his body from the imprint of the grass he had slept on, and his hair was sticking up at weird angles. But he was alive, and it seemed his new companion was, too. Good. Now all they had to do was think of something to do next. It wasn’t as easy as it sounded.

Orpheus shifted, frowning a little bit at the question. Had he dreamed? He found it hard to tell – dreams were fuzzy sometimes, even more so now that the world had been yanked away from him. He was silent for a few moments, then eventually nodded.
“I believe so,” he whispered, voice still thick and low with the last remnants of sleep. “I think I dream the same thing every night.” Orpheus rolled onto his back, staring up at the sky until he felt Myrnin’s light touch on his shoulder. He gave a smile that he didn’t quite feel, then sighed softly. All he wanted was for things to be alright again, but he didn’t know that they ever would. He wasn’t sure… that he wanted things to feel alright again without Eurydice. There was no ‘alright’ without her. Not anymore.
“Do you feel rested?” he asked after a moment, forcing himself onto his elbows and stretching quietly. “I mean… even with your not-quite-sleep, did it help?”

“Good,” Orpheus murmured, grateful for any good news at all, even if it was just that Myrnin wasn’t tired. He himself… well, he figured his constant state of being would be “tired” until he found a way to move on from Eurydice. The hard part was that he didn’t think he wanted to move on. She deserved better than him trying to move on when he should have saved her, when he had gotten so close… when it was his fault that she was still dead. She wouldn’t remember him, by now… the thought weighed heavy in his chest, but he didn’t try to shake it off. He looked at Myrnin instead, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I agree,” he added after another moment, glancing back in the direction of the little town. “People might be… fun…” he added hesitantly, sounding almost like he thought the exact opposite to be true. People were people. They asked questions, they made judgements, and they continued living their lives, because they had never known Eurydice. Orpheus doubted many of them had even noticed the return of spring. He didn’t want to resent them, but he thought a small part of him might.

Orpheus didn’t know how long it would take him to recover. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he ever would recover. It was easier to see that a future was possible when he had someone travelling beside him, but it was still difficult. It was difficult knowing that Myrnin was struggling, too. That try as they might, there really wasn’t all that much that they could do for each other. The best they could do was take away a tiny bit of the pressure.
“Race,” Orpheus echoed, processing the word like he had never heard it before. He glanced at Myrnin, then glanced ahead at where they were heading. He tried to force adrenaline into his veins, tried to force himself to be excited by the idea. He had never been the most competitive person, but a race sounded… like something to do to pass the time, at least. Well… walking would be faster, but he had heard somewhere that getting good exercise made you feel better. He didn’t know if it was true, but he did know that he wanted to feel better. He wanted to get out of his own head for just a minute, he wanted to be able to live, even if Eurydice couldn’t. Even if he didn’t deserve to. If she didn’t get that chance… then he would have do to it for her.
“Race you,” he confirmed after another moment, shaking out his arms like that would help him run faster. He didn’t have a lot of experience running, it seemed. “Ready…” he said, getting into position and looking over at Myrnin. “Set…” his eyes narrowed on the road ahead, his heart racing with the idea of actually doing something other than wandering listlessly. “Go!”

Orpheus didn’t know what it was like to be particularly fast. When he was running, he could feel the breeze pushing against him, could feel his hair flying behind him, his bandana waving in the wind like a flag. It was… freeing. It was nice, in a way that few things were anymore. He didn’t have to worry, he didn’t have to wonder what would happen if he looked behind him, it was… it was like he could escape what he was tyring to hide from if he just kept moving, just kept running. He wanted to keep moving. He wanted to move on, even if it meant forgetting. He didn’t want to forget Eurydice, but he wanted to forget his failure. He was just… afraid that he couldn’t have one without the other. He was afraid that he had messed up irreparably. He couldn’t tell Myrnin that, not yet… maybe one day. Maybe Myrnin would tell him why he was sad and he would tell Myrnin why he was sad and they would walk away from their sadness hand in hand.
He finished a few steps behind Myrnin, panting hard as he looked up at the house Myrnin had chosen as their stopping point.
“Hm,” he considered, looking around. “Well… most towns have marketplaces that are fun to explore… and sometimes there are tours of the nicer houses so that they can show off their art… and there are concerts and the like…” he couldn’t help but wonder if there was a music store within this town. He shouldn’t have left his instrument behind. He didn’t have the music in his head required to play it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss the feeling of it in his hand. He thought… he thought figuring out how to play without Eurydice might help ward off the sadness that felt like it might crush him if he let it get too out of hand.

“We can check,” Orpheus suggested, uncertain how he felt about going to a concert. Would it make him want to play again? Was that a good thing? It was impossible to tell… but it was something to do. And they were desperately in need of that. “There’s usually some sort of town bulletin somewhere… or maybe if we walk enough we’ll run into some live music like we did last time…” he bit his lip, then looped his arm through Myrnin’s and began to guide him towards where he believed the center of town might be. “I’d… I think a concert is a good idea.” He hoped. “What… kind of music do you like?”

Orpheus tilted his head, looking around the city and trying to figure out where he would play, if he still had his lyre. That was where he was most likely to find either concerts or street musicians. In small towns like this, there really wasn’t that much of a difference. If someone was playing music, especially if they were playing music well, they tended to draw a crowd. The difference was that concerts generally paid better than playing as a street musician. Orpheus had never cared either way.
“I like all music,” he murmured, drifting towards where he would go if he were looking for somewhere to play. He hoped that Myrnin was following, though he didn’t actually look to check. “I like music that tells a story, most of all, but most musicians worth their salt tell a story even if it doesn’t seem like they do on the surface. Music is just… it’s another form of storytelling. This way… I think I hear some people playing up ahead.”

What are you? It was a loaded question, especially coming from someone who wasn’t human. Orpheus had a feeling that wasn’t what Myrnin was referring to, though. It would have been simpler to answer that he was a demigod, if you wanted to be technical about it. If you wanted to consider the Muses gods, which seemed to be a matter of contention. Either way, he was demi-muse, but he doubted Myrnin would understand that. He knew that wasn’t the question anyway. It was just… easier to consider the answer to the easier interpretation of that question.
“I… I’m a poet. Or I was. I don’t know if I am anymore. I… was a storyteller. I was a boy in love. And… I guess… I was a musician, above all else.” There, out in the open. He stared at the ground in front of him, unsure how that thought made him feel.
“Now? I feel like… the ruins of a poet. The fossil of a musician. Maybe you can tell a little bit about me, but… I suppose I doubt I can be used for my original purpose, anymore. Beyond that… I don’t know.”
“I used to believe there was a point in telling tragedies,” he murmured, voice nearly inaudible. “I think… there still is… but I don’t want to believe that things might work out, anymore. I’d rather the straightforward possibility of a comedy.”