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Chilchuck Tims is not an affectionate person.
At least, not outwardly.
He’d much rather make his appreciation known through words rather than a hug or a pat on the back. Although, sometimes, the other members of Laios’s party will forget this fact. He’ll finally unlock a particularly pesky door and Laios will ruffle his hair with an enthusiastic grin. He’ll reluctantly reveal another tidbit of his past and Marcille will envelope him in a hug. He’ll thank Senshi for a meal, who in turn claps a thick hand on his shoulder, bright eyes crinkled in gratitude. At first, his inclination is to pull away and argue that he “shouldn’t be coddled like a child”. However, the more time he spends with his companions down in the dungeon, the less he feels the need to provide that distance.
Now, Chilchuck smooths out the wrinkles in his bedroll in an attempt to make it as comfortable as possible against the cold dungeon floor. The party had spent all day walking, and although they didn’t cross paths with any man-eating monsters, they still found themselves exhausted. Once it got to the point that they were practically falling asleep on their feet, Laios had suggested they set up camp for the night in a somewhat secluded area, to which they were all in favor. After a small fire had been kindled in the center of the room, Senshi had begun serving up generous leftovers from yesterday’s surprise encounter with a cockatrice. They’d all eaten their fill in mutual silence, which only served to accelerate their fatigue.
At the moment, Laios and Marcille are both asleep, their bedrolls catty-cornered from Chilchuck’s. Marcille’s long blonde hair has been freed from its typical intricate styling and is strewn haphazardly in almost every direction, a sizable lock falling directly across her face. Laios sleeps on his back, his hands folded over his midsection. Every once in a while, he lets out a soft, amused chuckle and his jaw works as if he’s chewing on something.
Shocker, he even eats monsters in his dreams, Chilchuck snickers to himself and shakes his head in sarcastic disbelief.
He shifts his gaze to the opposite side of the room, where Senshi is quietly finishing up cleaning his cooking tools. A little ways away, Izutsumi is curled up on her bedroll, facing the wall. Chilchuck squints and furrows his brow. He’s unsure if the flickering light of the fire is playing tricks on his vision or if Izutsumi is trembling. He watches for a moment more, debating if he should try whispering her name, but ultimately decides against it: if she’s sleeping, he doesn’t want to wake her and deal with a cranky teenager.
Eventually, Senshi finishes cleaning up after the meal. He lays down and falls asleep almost immediately, his bushy beard rising and falling with the motion of his breathing. Chilchuck takes one more quick survey of his surroundings before he pulls his blanket up to his chin and closes his eyes. The dimming firelight dances behind his eyelids and lulls him into a dreamless sleep.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been dozing when the air is suddenly forced out of his lungs. His eyes fly open in a panic, but he manages to stay still. Something is on top of him, the weight concentrated on his chest, making it hard for him to get in a proper breath. His first thought is monster, but that quickly turns to confusion when a low droning sound permeates the air.
A continuous rumbling noise, accompanied by a slight, lulling vibration emanates from whatever is squashing his ribcage. It’s a sound he recognizes.
Purring.
“Izutsumi,” he grinds out through grit teeth. “Get off.”
When that doesn’t work, Chilchuck frees a hand from under the sheets and shoves in an attempt to remove her fuzzy body from its inconvenient location. She lets out an irritated mewl and curls up even more, her tail smacking his cheek as she nuzzles deeper into the crook of his trapped elbow. She mutters something that sounds like “warm…”, but it’s muffled against the fabric. He grunts in frustration, grabs a fistfull of black fur, and pulls.
Izutsumi wakes with a sharp yelp. Her leg kicks out, claws extended, and scratches Chilchuck’s cheek as she scrambles off of him. She crouches a couple feet away, her fur and tail standing straight up.
“What the hell was that for?” she hisses, fangs bared and shoulders raised.
Chilchuck struggles to sit up, cradling his scraped cheek with one hand. The cut isn’t too deep, thankfully, only superficial. “You moron, I can’t breathe with you on top of me like that,” he whispers back, glancing around to check if the clamor roused any of their friends. Marcille turns over in her sleep with a quiet hum, but fortunately doesn’t stir any further. “Why aren’t you in your own bed?”
Izutsumi shifts hesitantly. “I was cold.”
“Then use your blanket.”
“No, I…” she pauses. If she weren’t covered in fur, Chilchuck is certain her cheeks would be flushed. “Whatever. Nevermind.”
He raises an eyebrow as she slinks back over to her bedroll and throws the blanket over herself. Once again, she’s facing the wall. Something about the sight makes Chilchuck’s heart ache. Had he been too harsh with her? He does have a nasty habit of speaking without a filter. His sharp tongue has gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past.
Either way, she should know better, he thinks as he settles back down to the floor. She’s got to be around Mei and Fler’s age... He sighs. The cut on his face stings, but he’s endured much worse. He’ll ask Marcille to heal it tomorrow.
Exhaustion is once again getting the better of him, but he spares a glance in the beastkin’s direction. He hesitates. The light from the evening fire has dwindled down to a couple of low burning embers, but this time he’s certain: Izutsumi is shivering under her blanket.
Before he can think twice about it, Chilchuck calls out in a hushed whisper.
“Izutsumi?”
He sees a white-tipped ear perk up, followed by a pair of round yellow eyes as she peers over her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything but her head is tilted to the side in a silent hm? With a resigned sigh, Chilchuck lifts the edge of his blanket: an invitation.
In a flash of black and white, she all but dives underneath the blanket, settling on his chest for the second time.
“No, no!” he protests, wheezing. She slides off and turns to glare at him, eyebrows knitted in a sort of betrayed confusion. Chilchuck winces and huffs.
“Look, listen, you’re welcome to share my blanket, but you can’t be on top of me like that, it’s hard for me to breathe,” he says. She’s quiet for a moment, eyes narrowed in contemplation, before she hums in understanding.
And all at once, Izutsumi is under the blanket again. Her fuzzy arms pull Chilchuck close to her and he tenses. This time, only her head is on his chest and her tail is wound around one of his legs. It’s… surprisingly comfortable. He feels her chuckle beside him.
“What are you acting all scared for? I’m not gonna bite you,” she mumbles. “Oooh, right… I’m, uh, sorry about your face.”
Chilchuck shrugs and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have pulled your hair. Or, I mean, your fur? You know what I mean,” he huffs. Both of them are quiet for a while, savoring the mutual apology.
At some point, Izutsumi begins purring again and Chilchuck allows his body to relax. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine he’s home in Kahka Brud, snuggling with his daughters. But that was a long time ago.
“G’night, short man,” Izutsumi murmurs contentedly, shattering the illusion. He doesn’t even have the energy to refute the godawful nickname.
“Goodnight.”
He falls asleep to the monotonous drone of her purring, a gentle hand carding through the dark hair between her ears.
Chilchuck Tims is not an affectionate person.
But, he’ll make an exception from time to time.