In the last few months, Freckle had been doing his best impression of a weed. Incessant growth, a filling out of lean muscle and the first scruffy tufts of what he assumed would eventually be a mane upon his chest... though at the moment he could just as easily be passed off as the shagginess of a winter coat.

The mire had been undergoing some changes as the cold weather rolled in, with many usually liquid sections of the swamp freezing up or growing sluggish. There were fewer patches of sun to doze in, and everythign often had a crystalline appearance in the cooler mornings. Yet considering how far south and the proximity to the jungle, Freckle didn't think the land would truly freeze.

He wandered, habitually muddy, through the trails with a prize in his jaws - a large fish he'd scavenged from the frosty shallows of the river. It was larger than his own head, and he'd already started chewing on the tail before he'd thought to come show it off, looking for @Bruno ♔ as he padded through the mangroves.

— for Bruno!

It was the stink of fish that caught his attention. Bruno perked up from the short nap he had allowed himself, squinting against the light that filtered through the mire trees as he gathered his wits. The prince groaned slightly as he propped himself up on an elbow, swiveling his head to get a look at his surroundings until finally, young Freckle came into view with something large and scaly obscuring his face.

"It's mutant," he noted with a quirked brow, trying to straighten his laying position somewhat as he regarded the growing boy and the giant fish. "Did you catch it?" He thought to ask, his gaze flickering between the warm honey of the boy's and the tattered thing he cradled in his jaws.

---

|| december y9 | two years | EM royalty | at ecrosia mire | @Freckle ||

Even if Bruno had remained asleep, Freckle was quite persistent in showing off his catch and as the boy rounds a tree he spies his guardian. Picking up his pace he trots to a halt beside the dark lion with a self-satisfied expression, plopping the large fish onto the cold mud with a puffed out chest.

”Did you catch it?” Bruno asks.

“Of course.” Freckle confirms with a confident nod of his spotted head. He had, after all. It just hadn’t been moving when he had. The tattered fish had the claw and teeth marks from being pounced and all. “It tastes good. S’ for you.” He adds to clarify, nudging it closer to @Bruno ♔ with pride.

Splat. Bruno gazed upon the thrown fish at his paws, finally able to appreciate it in its tattered, putrid glory. Oh no. His stomach churned as his nostrils were assaulted with the full brunt of brine, understanding shining in the green of his gaze as the prince looked between the offering and his plucky ward.

"S’ for you.”
How thoughtful.

"Is this your first fish?" He questioned, inflating his tone with heightened, gushing importance. "Don't you know the tradition? You're supposed to eat your first catch to keep your good luck," Bruno explained with an earnest nod to the boy. He straightened his laying posture silently, waiting expectantly for his Freckle to do as he was told.

Spirits, if I have to eat a rotten fish today, so help me.

---

@Freckle

Freckle looks on eagerly for approval, tail swishing by his paws.

"Is this your first fish?” @Bruno ♔ asks and the spotted boy has to pause to think, face drawing into a recollecting squint. “Er…” he muses. The swamp was teeming with wetland beasties. “D’ frogs count?” he checks with a tilt of his head. On the idea of good luck though… he eyes the chewed fish with new reverence.

“We can share it,” he concludes. “That way I get the luck, and it’s still for y’!” He puffs out his chest, proud that he’d come up with a solution to the dilemma.

For a moment, it seemed his strategy might work. Freckle seemed to gaze upon the offering tenderly, his mental gears clearly whirring something up. Oh, but that inspiration alight upon his features spelled a terrible fate for Bruno. He twitched his whiskers as the only hint of his annoyance at the growing boy's suggestion that they share the burden between them, his stomach churning with the heavy stench that lingered in the air.

"Ah," he stalled, shifting his weight slightly to sit up further. He glanced feebly in the boy's direction, clover meeting orbs of gleaming honey for a dreadful, guilty moment the prince would instantly regret. Bruno leaned forward slowly, each inch serenaded by his inner voice screaming with rebellion against him. You know better. You know better! Finally, his jaws parted for a bite, he breathed in all of its rank fumes until his very throat protested with an exaggerated gag.

"Oh," Bruno groaned with visceral disgust. The charade was up. Even if he had particularly cared to preserve the boy's feelings, his stomach simply would not allow it. "It's rotten, Fleckchen. Was it already dead?" He questioned, swallowing down his disgust in a poor attempt at salvaging the situation.

"If you eat it you'll be sick," he cautioned quickly then, sitting up further as if to stop him from taking a bite.

---

@Freckle

@Bruno ♔'s reaction conveys that frogs did, in fact, count as fish. Freckle is pleased by this clarification because frogs were about the only thing he was consistent at catching - alive, that was. They tasted pretty foul, most of the time. He liked to watch them plop back into the water when he was done terrorising them.

He leans forward eagerly as Bruno meets his eyes, and watches with owlish, hopeful gaze as the dark lion leant down to taste the ever-so-thoughtful gift he’d brought along.

Only, he withdraws with a grunt. “Rotten?” the spotted near-yearling echoed. He realises now he has been caught in his minor lie.

“It didn’t look rotten.” he huffs, “I just chewed it firs’. It can’t be bad.” It had been definitely frozen when first discovered, and he prods it with a paw. Much more pliant beneath his toes, now.

“I won’t get sick cus’ I chewed it, will I?” he utters with fresh concern, dark-tipped ears tilting forward. He’d never been sick before, even with some of the dubious things he found and ate in the swamps.

stock © nikita burdin, lines © riot, code © hinter

Bruno smacked his lips as he watched for Freckle's arguments, lifting a paw to wipe it gracelessly across his mouth – as if this could wipe away the stench lingering in his sinuses and in his palate. He scrunched the brunet of his brow in consideration as the young boy explained, though this did little to quell the reality of what lay before them.

“I won’t get sick cus’ I chewed it, will I?”

"You might," he answered bluntly. Something like concern shone in his gaze. Frowning for a moment, the prince straightened into a full seat. He remained still for a moment of thought. Finally, he nodded to confirm his resolve. "Wait here." Bruno gathered himself to his paws, setting off at a robotic trot through the marshland with his eyes cast forward.

----

Only a matter of minutes had gone by when Bruno was announced by the rustling of frozen foliage. In his jaws was clasped a small bundle of emerald leaves, their bitter fragrance filling his mouth with herby flavor. The lithe prince made his way over and attempted to drop the leaves stiffly at the boy's paws, straightening to look him in the eye.

"Healers won't miss a bit of basil from their stores, right?" He conspired with a smirk. "Just eat this. It tastes weird, but you don't want to yak," Bruno argued and gave a shrug of his shoulders.

---

@Freckle

”You might.” says Bruno and Freckle’s eyes widen in alarm. His belly didn’t feel upset or gurgly - he had not felt that since he was very small. Even then it hadn’t stopped him from eating some pretty heinous things he found buried in the mire. How was he supposed to know if he liked something if he didn’t try it?

Freckle obliges the order with an increasingly worried look upon his spotted face, looking eagerly after Bruno’s exit and into the cold swamp for his return. Good thing he knew what to do!

His attention does wander then, back to the fish. He would bury it back where he found it. Maybe then mushrooms or lizards would eat it. It still didn’t seem so bad to him; but maybe he’d have a bit more scrutiny of things going forward.

Bruno returns with a bitter-smelling bundle in his jaws. Deposited at his paws, Freckle takes a moment to sniff it gingerly. So this was basil, was it? He’d never bothered much with herbs or plants in general, really. He didn’t think it would taste good.

With a reluctant snort he stoops to lap them up, screwing up his face at the flavour. He’d been right. “Yuck.” he says decisively. He didn’t like this ‘basil’ thing. But he didn’t want to puke or get ill from the fish, so he dutifully chows down on the herb. When he was done, his muzzle was faintly green. “That was so gross, Bruno. Bleck.” He kept licking his lips, trying to work out the flavour. “I need a drink.” he alerts, lifting to his paws. The nearest stream would do.

@Bruno ♔

stock © nikita burdin, lines © riot, code © hinter

He watched with vague interest, snorting slightly as his suspicion was confirmed by Freckle's blatant disgust. It struck him suddenly what an odd arrangement theirs was. Here he was, Bruno the young prince, watching over and doing his best to care for someone when he himself still felt like a cub at times. He noted the hint of green at the child's muzzle with a sniff.

"Come on, we'll get a drink," he agreed as he lifted himself to his paws to begin a purposeful stride toward the stream he knew was nearest. Bruno attempted to fall into a matching gait with the smaller boy, the air a pregnant silence as he willed his mind to formulate the right words.

"I've been wondering," he started slowly, glancing down at the golden child. " – well, you know I take care of you as well as I can. I just wonder if you wish you had a family – you know, officially." Bruno forced the words out, stumbling over them at times when they came out too thick or too heavy. His heart rate spiked in spite of himself. Here, a great warrior of his generation feared a terrible, unpredictable agony: the mockery of an adolescent.

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@Freckle