How they Met

The downpour had not stopped for two weeks, turning the winter landscape into a treacherous mire of ice and mud. The air was wet, cold, and deathly silent; anything capable of making noise had fled to drier pastures long ago. Except for a solitary bat demon who had chosen a very bad time to run out of firewood. The wind was the efficient winter type that saved time by not blowing around anything; it blew right through everything in its path, including the drenched Kuronue.

He’d dug out an oilskin cloak in oil in hopes that it would keep the water off him long enough to find some wood dry enough to burn. Twenty minutes after leaving the house, it was slung over one shoulder. “So much for waterproof,” Kuronue growled, brushing water out of his eyes. He was feeling high-strung without the forest’s normal sounds. Not only that, the sound of the rain was so loud he could barely hear his own footsteps, never mind those of anyone—or anything—who might be sneaking up on him. To top it all off, there was no way there was anything anywhere dry enough to burn and without a fire, the bat could not cook.

So he doggedly slogged forward through the mud that reached his knees, his eyes flickering from purple to red in irritation every time he slipped, which was every other step. Eventually they seemed to give up and just stay red; the growl likewise seemed to be equally efficient and remained rumbling up from his chest and through his chattering teeth. By the time Kuronue saw light up ahead, he was so caked in mud that even the driving rain could not wash it off.

There was a small grassy clearing where Kuronue would often go to find rabbits and other small game animals. Normally the grass was alive with the sounds of small animals doing whatever it is they do during the day. The hairs on the back of Kuronue’s neck rose when he staggered onto the squelchy grass and found the clearing silent as death.

Silent, but not still. A tiny movement in the corner of his eye made him whirl around, scythe in his hand, heart pounding. He waited, motionless save for the rumble still rising from his chest. There it was again—the flash of dark, muddy grey. Kuronue crept up to the spot, his suspicion increasing once he realized it was another demon, one who had apparently collapsed from the cold and was not quite dead from hypothermia, but getting there. The rain and the wind had between them dissolved most of his clothing, although thankfully the top part of his pants still remained. Could be a trap… Was Kuronue’s first thought.

To the demon, who was floating in that state between consciousness and unconsciousness, Kuronue looked something of a nightmare: he was only a lumpy, growling, scythe-wielding, red-eyed mud monster, clearly bent on killing him. The sudden rush of fear was too much for the demon, who’d been out in the relentless rain and arctic winds for a day and a half. He fell into unconsciousness with the tiniest of whimpers.

Kuronue hesitated for only a moment before sighing and pulling the stranger up. Sure, right now he is a muddy, gross, blue-hued unconscious mess, but something tells me that under all that mud is someone worth saving. Once he had the demon across his back, the bat could tell he’d been out there a while because he was freezing. Besides, I might be a heartless bastard but I can’t just turn my back and let him die out here, all alone in the cold…

Firewood forgotten, Kuronue re-entered the trees and started slogging his way in the direction of home.