Page 7 of In Your Light

“Yes, always,” Zaq said as he caught up.

Zaq was Fyn’s running mate. They always ran in pairs. It was safer that way. And a lot more fun. Nothing beat running through the forest with his best friend.

The fresh air, the dew, the smell of underbrush. Fyn loved it all.

Then Zaq shoved him backwards as he took off racing again, his laughter ringing in Fyn’s ears as he scrambled to find purchase.

“You cheat,” he called out as he took off after Zaq.

He ducked under ferns, leapt over logs, and bounded effortlessly across gullies and up embankments.

He caught up to Zaq, both of them laughing as they ran side by side. Then Fyn bumped Zaq as they rounded a tree, but Zaq managed to clip Fyn’s hind hoof, and they went sprawling into the underbrush. By the time they raced into camp, they were both laughing and covered in leaves and mud.

Voh and Cyd squealed with delight—in human form—jumping around and cheering them on.

Pax, on the other hand, stood by the campfire with his arms crossed and his usual scowl in place. He gave Fyn an unimpressed huff. “You’re late.”

Fyn shook himself into full human form, then pulled on his pants while ignoring the slide of mud up his now-human torso. “I stayed a while with Cern’s guest. He needed some cheer.”

Pax’s nostrils flared. “You were under strict instruction not to talk to him.”

Fyn didn’t want Pax to ruin his good mood, but he was so sick of his superiority complex. Pax was always hardest on Fyn, as if being his younger brother meant he should be his dutiful lieutenant. Even though they were brothers, they were so different. Pax was ardent about his role of camp leader, ever serious with his strict rules and lack of a sense of humour.

Fyn, on the other hand, found humour in most things and wanted to spend his days enjoying the forest and the river, smelling flowers, and chasing butterflies.

Was he irresponsible? No. He did his chores, and he did them well.

He simply wasn’t about to make his entire personality about his rank in their family.

Not like Pax. He took everything seriously. Too seriously.

“Well, he offered a cup of tea, and I wasn’t about to refuse,” Fyn said. It wasn’t exactly the truth, but whatever.

That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, because Pax became enraged. “Tea?” he said. “You had tea with him? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Dangerous? Hardly. He was very polite.”

And that was also the wrong thing to say. Apparently.

Pax took a step closer, his chest out, eyes full of fire. “You were given an order, Fyn. And you disobeyed.”

“Cern said⁠—”

“You don’t take orders from Cern,” Pax bellowed.

Zaq took a step back as Pax’s expression darkened. Not that Pax would have noticed. Like he didn’t notice how Voh and Cyd, the two herd younglings, glanced nervously between Pax and Fyn. Nobody wanted to be nearby when Pax was in this mood.

“He is not company to keep. Which is beside the point, Fyn. You were given an order.”

Fyn rolled his eyes, which was probably not the best reaction, but Fyn was sick of his brother’s attitude. “An order? I was not aware we were a military unit. Should I salute?”

Pax inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he fought for composure. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, and Fyn knew he’d reached the end of his patience. “I gave you a simple instruction."

“And I followed it."

“No. You followed half of it.”

Fyn tilted his head. “I delivered the food, as instructed.” Okay so the “and do not linger” part of the instructions was what Pax was mad about. Fyn knew he was being pedantic, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “And, I might add, I’m the fastest one here. Me staying for a five-minute chat is still faster than if you went.” He looked around the camp. Most of the herd had already returned from their morning tasks, baskets emptied and tools put away. Lunch preparations were underway. “What was I needed here for anyway?”