Financial Burden
(Dragato/ Tali/ Bate/ Gravel /Ramset)
(Dragato/ Tali/ Bate/ Gravel /Ramset)
Dragato is in the middle of reading a rather interesting book when he feels his glasses split apart and slip from his face for maybe the third time this week.
They clatter down into his lap, tucked into the pages of his book. Neither half looks worse for wear, luckily; one lens was cracked, but that had already been there. No, it appeared the tape keeping them together had just come loose. He can see it there, halfway unraveled on the bridge of one end.
It wasn’t surprising. More of a mild annoyance. The adhesive was cheap; he’d just need to double roll it next time.
Dragato picks up his glasses delicately, careful not to move them too much and risk bending something. It was still impressive, he thought, that Tali at four years old could snap metal in half with her tail of all things. Without even realizing it, even.
He might’ve been proud of her for such a feat of strength – actually, he was! ...If only glasses didn’t cost so much to get replaced. How much were they these days? A hundred for frames?
He was having a hard enough time keeping food on the table and intact furniture in the house. He didn’t feel like dealing with his glasses too when it could be avoided.
Dragato sighs and reaches up to rub his face.
It was his own fault. His parents had offered to buy new ones after Tali had broken them last month. If he’d just accepted then he wouldn’t have had a problem.
But then it wasn’t their responsibility. None of it was. It wasn’t their fault he had chosen to raise a child that he hadn’t been ready for and they shouldn’t have to bear the financial burden that came with it.
So he’d joked it off and left it at that.
Dragato stands from his recliner and goes to get the tape from the drawer beside him where he usually leaves it. As he reaches to open it up, he can see where the leg of the table sports a sizable missing chunk of wood where Tali had decided to make it her latest chew toy. Almost all of the furniture in the house sported something to that effect; he’s going to have to repair it before it falls apart.
Tali...was a rambunctious sort.
She’d been like this from the moment she hatched. Always running, always chewing, always playing or fighting, both at the same time more than likely. What was it his father Gravel had said? That the children of North Nova were more apt to kill than play?
He could definitely see it.
Dragato sits back down and starts taping his glasses back together. He hears a sound in the back, coming from Tali’s room, the scraping of wood that tells him she’s scratching at her dresser again. The only reason he doesn’t get up is because her furniture is North Novan – she’d smashed everything else.
Four years had gone by since he had been blessed with her presence, and she hadn’t changed a bit. If anything, he thought, she was arguably worse. Older, larger, with a developing strength nobody could control, much less herself. Rambunctious and eager to burn off energy, as children were, and nobody to play with who could handle her.
All that said, one could imagine how his house looked right now. He hadn’t had visitors over in some time.
That on its own wasn’t much of a bother for him. He wasn’t a stranger to house repairs, and had done his share plenty well before her arrival. If he had to spend a bit extra for essentials, then that was what had to happen.
It was, he thought, more so that a growing child with growing strength had growing needs. Needs that he wasn’t sure he could meet anymore.
Tali ate. Everyone ate, but Tali ate. Four times as much as any Squishy with no sign of ever being full. A growing draconic Zoos built for muscle and strength needed the protein to keep growing into that. When she was a baby, that hadn’t been so hard to handle. It hadn’t torn into his budget.
Now, though...
Dragato was going to have to take another trip out of town to the North Novan import shop. As expensive as it was, it was the only place that sold anything suitable for Tali’s quality of life, whether it was meat or cutlery or custom furniture. He was already dreading it.
His parents were going out there this weekend, weren’t they? They’d invited him.
He’d have to go earlier in the week, then. He felt bad about it, but he didn’t need them seeing him having to pick and choose between what to buy and how long it would last him. He didn’t need the questions.
Dragato takes a long look at the glasses in his hands, taped back together and relatively in one piece until the next time they fall apart. The crack in the lens glares at him accusingly.
He takes a deep breath.
What is he going to do?
He’s asked himself this question NOVA knows how many times now and still he has no answer.
Dragato was frugal. He didn’t want for much. Savings from his previous job as Cite’s bodyguard and his freelance photography work had gotten him by just fine before becoming a father. He paid the bills, got groceries, a few indulgences and reserved the rest for emergencies.
But he was a father now. He couldn’t afford to do that when he had a child to feed and look after. A child who, he thought ruefully, he hadn’t been prepared for. There was a reason many couples chose not to have children.
He hadn’t been prepared, for the damaged furniture or the expenses of imported goods, or the sheer amount of food he had to buy. Hadn’t been prepared for paying others over damaged property either. It was expensive, all together, and no amount of budgeting could ever make up for the emergencies that came up when something happened every week.
It had been fine for awhile. So much so that Dragato hadn’t even noticed when he’d begun to dip into his savings, bit by bit. Cite had had more money than he’d known what to do with, according to him, and paying Dragato for guarding him on his travels had to be well rewarded. How would he have thought to see the way his expenditures were eating into his savings?
But it had been four years, now, of accommodating North Novan needs and accommodations and keeping his house in working order and paying the bills on top of all of that. Something had to give eventually, and seeing that the cost to pay for a new table would leave Tali without a new North Novan bed was a grim realization to have about his circumstances.
He could’ve worked more – but then photography didn’t pay much, and he could only have his grandparents watch Tali so much. Nobody else would, or could. It...had left him with the unfortunate option of needing to sell a few of his things to cover some of the more hefty costs. North Novan furniture and destroyed property from Tali’s mischief, mostly, but he hadn’t missed the fact that it was beginning to stretch into his bills as well.
The only thing, above everything, that he made certain to budget for no matter what, was food. Meat, which was expensive, but Dragato didn’t care about that. Tali would never go without food if he could help it, even if it meant he had to go without and they had to stop attending every activity that necessitated spending money. If it meant Tali got to eat, he’d have sold everything of his he owned.
Didn’t meant he didn’t mourn it, though. Giving away the things he’d liked for money. Keeping a cheery face the one time Bate had seen him at the market to sell his belongings had been agonizing.
He should have been more self-aware. Should have done more research into the costs of raising a child, should have prepared more. He hadn’t noticed how low his funds were running until only last year and he wanted to kick himself for being so careless.
Dragato needed to figure something out, and soon. The stress wore on him by the day. A new job, something that paid. A profession working from home would’ve been ideal. But what skills did he have beyond photography? He’d left the army too early to be trained in any particular skill of value, and freelance didn’t pay the bills if you weren’t well-connected or working your rear off.
How did parents without support do it?
...Except he did have support.
He just...didn’t want them knowing.
It wasn’t their burden to bear when they’d already done so much for him. Cite, his parents, everyone. If it was anything he’d learned from all of this, it was just how much he’d had to rely on them in the past. For housing, for money, for...everything.
He was supposed to be supporting himself. He was supposed to be supporting his daughter. What did that make him if he wasn’t?
“Papa! Hungry!”
Dragato jumps at the noise and turns his head to look behind him, past his recliner.
Tali stands there just inside the living room. How Dragato hadn’t heard her leave her room, he’s not sure, but now Tali makes her presence known with a little stamp of her foot that makes him want to wince. That’s going to crack the floor...
“Hungry!” She says again. Big eyes look up at him bright with insistence and excitement both. Despite everything, all of the worry, he can’t help smiling at the picture.
Dragato takes one long breath and slides his glasses on before standing. “What do we say when we ask for a snack?”
“Uh. Please!”
But he’s already headed towards the kitchen, holding his hand out for Tali to scamper over and hold the way she likes to do. “Good girl! Yes, you may, Tali. How about some fruit? Do you want another apple?”
“Ya!”
Good, he thinks. He didn’t have much more than fruit right now. He’d need to head out of town early, then. Tomorrow. Probably take Tali with him, make sure she didn’t eat any of the stock – again – and cause another hole in his wallet…
Dragato looks down at her from the corner of his eye.
Tali walks with a bounce in her step, almost running to keep up with his own stride, but she doesn’t notice because her eyes are wide open and her grin looks big enough to practically hurt her little face. She’s so excited to eat something so simple as an apple, as if Squidmas had come early and nothing else mattered, and the warmth that held his chest was invigorating. Gave him confidence.
She was a child. She hadn’t chosen this life, these circumstances. She never meant to do any harm; she was a sweetheart and always felt bad when something happened. All Tali wanted was food and toys and cuddles.
She didn’t need to know any of this. She didn’t need to see him upset. Of all things, Tali blaming herself was the last thing he ever wanted.
Dragato grins when Tali turns her head up at him. “Apple!”
“Apple,” He chuckles with a nod.
Everything would be okay. It was all worth it, this he knew with certainty.
He just needed to keep smiling, and he would figure it out soon.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It isn’t her fault.
It isn’t her fault.
“Papa?”
She could never have known.
“Okay, papa?”
She was a child.
She was a child.
Dragato repeats the words to himself and tries not to hyperventilate.
He fails.
Frantically, with shaking hands, he fiddles with the pieces and tries in vain to slot them back together. He stands hunched over his desk so he can look at it better, as if by doing so he can somehow fix it. He already knows he can’t, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.
What is he going to do. What is he going to do. What is he going to do. It’s a mantra in his head that loops on repeat and he can’t stop it. There’s ice in his veins and a burning in his lungs and he can’t stop shaking long enough to put the pieces together to see if they’ll stay.
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He can’t think. He can’t breathe.
Dragato stares down at the remains of his insulin pump and holds the edge of the desk with enough force that it digs into his palms. He holds it and focuses on the pain because if he doesn’t he’s going to scream.
He should have known better. He should have thought better. She always kicked in her sleep. He should have moved her when she crawled into bed. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t.
What is he going to do? How is he going to get a new one? How is he going to pay for it? An insulin pump was thousands and he hadn’t the benefits to have it insured, NOVA he could barely afford the bills these days along with everything else. He practically had nothing else of value to sell and whatever else he did have he’d never be able to sell fast enough to cover the costs by the end of the day. What was he going to do, he needed it to live what was he going to do--
Cite.
Cite had money. Cite was a millionaire. Cite built and paid for his entire house. Cite was his friend. Cite would’ve given him anything he wanted.
Dragato immediately wants to retch.
No. Not him. Cite already did so much and Dragato was not a freeloader. Dragato was an adult. He was an adult with his own life and his own bills and his own job. Cite had done enough and Dragato would not keep using him like this. He was not that person.
There was Falspar, maybe. Falspar could’ve--
Dragato thinks of his parents. His absence from their shopping trips. They don’t know and he didn’t need them to know and if Falspar knew then they would because Falspar would tell them. They didn’t need to know. He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.
He got himself into this mess. It’s his fault. It’s his fault for not being prepared, for thinking he could still earn a living with what he had even now that he had a child, for-- for--
Dragato lets out a hoarse noise and put his head down on his desk.
Tali, several feet behind him, hovers near the door to his study and says not a word.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I really wish I could help, but…”
“There’s nothing? There’s no sort of, financial assistance or prescription discount? There’s got to be--”
“If I could help you, truly, I would. Believe me, nobody should have to go without that! But, I’m afraid my hands are just...tied.”
Dragato looks down at the broken pump on the counter between them. Not under warranty, not covered under any kind of insurance, not functional. No discount.
It wasn’t Mira’s fault. She couldn’t help it. But he found himself wanting to open his mouth and scream anyway, because what else could he do.
He doesn’t, of course. Just stands there and breathes and tries not to lose it. Behind the counter is a new insulin pump, he knows. Even if he can’t see it, he still finds himself taunted by the mere fact of it.
Why did his own life have to be contingent on how much money he made?
So lost in his own thoughts, Dragato doesn’t hear the bell ring as someone enters the pharmacy. Nor does he hear their voice, nor their steps walking up to the counter.
What he does notice, though, is the way Tali seems to abruptly sit upright on the bench beside him. She had been quiet since they had made their way out here to the pharmacy, and it was easy to lose track of her when she was sitting so still. Seeing her move, and so quickly, catches him off-guard.
He looks at her, opening his mouth to ask what’s wrong--
“Dragato?” He hears behind him.
Dragato’s blood turns icy.
He stares down at the broken pump in front of him on the counter, trying to control his breathing. Teacher Bate goes on, oblivious, chatting amiably behind him as he steps further up. “Well, what a surprise! I’m usually the first here – didn’t expect to see you and Tali here so early!”
He can’t think of words. His heart drums in his chest and it feels like anything he tries to grab onto slips through his fingers like sand. He hadn’t known Teacher Bate would be here. Not so early. It’s his fault; he should have.
The pump is still on the counter.
Bate is right behind him.
Dragato takes one big breath – holds it –
and turns around with a big, pleasant smile and a wingspan that he hopes blocks the counter from view.
Teacher Bate stands in front of him and gives him a warm look, just barely hunched over with the hand on his cane keeping him steady. Dragato was neither Meta nor Arthur, but Teacher Bate had never treated them any differently. He was much like a sort of uncle figure, and at any other time Dragato might’ve been happy to have a few words. But this was hardly the time and Dragato couldn’t waste a second longer before Bate noticed something – if he hadn’t already.
Because Dragato...looks like a mess and he knows it. The tears from earlier had only just settled and the sting still lingers in his eyes, face splotchy, and there’s the faintest tremor in his limbs that he hadn’t been able to stop. No sort of smile can hide that and he knows it.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dragato chortles and ignores the warble in his voice, “We were just on our way, Teacher Bate! Don’t mean to keep you--”
He reaches back behind him surreptitiously, to see if he can’t grab the pump without drawing attention. But reaching behind him means having to tuck back his wing, and he knows immediately that Bate sees.
“An accident?” He asks kindly.
His heart drops. Dragato wants to curl up into a ball and pretend none of this is real.
“Unfortunate,” Bate continues, “You should probably get that taken care of before you two head off; NOVA knows how I’d do if I had to wait for my medicine! I’m not in any rush, don’t worry.”
Dragato doesn’t move. He can’t-- think.
He doesn’t know what to say.
Bate watches him for a long moment. Standing there with one arm behind him and another gripping his cane, he’s every image the guiding figure everyone had had throughout their lives. And yet Dragato can feel nothing but like a bug pinned under glass for examination, peeled apart and picked at.
“I can’t imagine you walking out of here without a new one,” Bate prods. Gently. “Is everything alright?”
Dragato opens his mouth for words that won’t come, staring at and through Bate as the ice in his torso spreads to each limb. His throat is closed tight and he can’t answer because he doesn’t know what’s going to come out if he does.
He’s fine. It was an unexpected slip-up and he was just a little short of the funds right now. He would drum it up in no time. Bate didn’t need to know. Nobody needed to know.
Why not?
Because he didn’t want their money. Because he didn’t want to be a freeloader. Because he didn’t want them to know that he’d failed – at being an adult, at being successful, at being a father.
And was it worth his life?
He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to be so useless with money, and now he had nothing and Tali barely had anything and it was all his fault.
He was going to die because of his own negligence.
The breath Dragato lets out is hoarse. His vision burns and he can barely see the floor underneath his feet enough to make out the cracks. Everything comes to him like the weight of a star falling on his shoulders.
“No.”
It spills out before he can stop it. And then he can’t stop it.
“I thought I was ready, Teacher Bate,” He heaves hoarsely, “I thought I could do this. Be a father. But I don’t-- have enough. To take care of her. I never did. Just handouts from people around me. Everything costs so much and I can’t do anything about it, Teacher. I can’t afford it and-- it’s all my fault. For relying on them so much. I can’t afford it.”
It’s his fault. He tried. For months. He failed.
Tali needed so much more than he could give her. He needed so much more than he could give himself. Why had he done this? Why had he thought he could do this? He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.
The shame curdles, deep in his gut. Failure for the world to see. Failure as a soldier, a friend, a son, a father. He’s not successful, he’s not smart. He’s not anything that they say he is. He’s just nothing. Nothing but a guy in over his head.
And now Bate knows everything. He hadn’t been able to hide it at all.
“I don’t know what to do,” Dragato chokes, “I don’t know what to do, Teacher. I just-- I don’t--”
And then
something tugs him forward.
He doesn’t register what’s happening at first. An arm wraps around his shoulder and a hand squeezes him, pressing him gently against the cool metal of a pauldron and rubbing circles into his back. He can see nothing but the dark of browns and the faintest green of an arm, one that holds him steady as the other arm cradles him close. Because that’s what this is – a cradle.
Teacher Bate is cradling him as if he were his own son.
“There, now. It’s alright.” He hears from beside him. “You’ve been holding this in for some time, haven’t you? I can’t imagine how that must have felt. It’s alright…”
Dragato tried so hard to keep it all to himself. Nobody should have known. It should have made him feel sick at his stomach, knowing that Bate now knew. He should’ve been ashamed.
All Dragato can feel, though, is the ever so slight pressure easing off of his chest as he lets Bate hold the bulk of his weight and heaves dry gasps and cries tears that have already been shed. It wasn’t his parents nor even his brother – but Dragato thinks distantly that that’s all for the better. He couldn’t bear to face them like this right now.
Eventually, Bate carefully ushers them both over to the bench beside the counter and nudges Dragato into a sit, which he does without complaint. He knows why – he’s too tired to feel like standing. He feels absolutely awful and all he wants to do is sleep.
“I’ll get you some water, alright?” Bate says, readjusting himself back to the support of his cane. “You get some rest, stay off of your feet. I imagine Tali has been rather worried about you, hm?”
Dragato pauses.
His gaze pans over to his left as Bate sets off, sliding down until it beholds a child bundled and curled up in the seat, tail tucked and ears lowered. When she sees him, her head perks up visibly, but there’s a hesitancy in the way she looks at him that makes his heart hurt.
In all of the commotion, beyond his initial breakdown, he hadn’t been able to afford her much of his attention. It had been life or death and he couldn’t focus on anything else, and poor Tali could smell change in demeanor a mile off. She hadn’t said a thing since this morning.
He couldn’t imagine how she felt right now.
“Hello, Tali,” Dragato murmurs hoarsely, and he opens his arm invitingly. “Would you like to come sit with me?”
Tali didn’t need told twice.
She crawls over into his lap on all fours, almost too quick for him to catch. Claws dig like needle points into the skin of his legs, tiny hands close to squeezing for all that they’re worth. Dragato doesn’t complain, though. It’s the least of his issues.
He strokes over the top of her head gently in a steady, soothing motion while she proceeds to loaf into his free arm. “I bet you’re tired, huh…” He feels her nod into his arm and swallows the sigh in his throat. How did you explain all of this to a four year old? “Me too, sweetheart. I think we could both use a nap…”
Dragato turns the words in his head.
“I’m sorry,” He mutters, giving her the slightest of squeezes. “Your father just...had a really bad morning. And he shouldn’t have scared you like that. That was very mean of him. He loves you so much, no matter what happens or how he acts. Okay? Papa will always love you.”
She doesn’t move much but for a slight adjustment of her posture, nor does she say anything. He can feel where she’s buried her face into him, though.
“Everything will be alright, Tali,” Dragato murmurs. He says it more to himself than his child, but they both could use the assurance. “Whatever happens. Everything will be just fine.”
It’s funny. He’d been panicking not twenty minutes ago, and yet-- now, he was...oddly calm. Heavy, but calm. It could have been resignation, or fatigue.
Or, maybe he’d just needed to actually let it out to someone. Either way, he feels...better. Than he was.
Dragato is content to sit there on the bench and preoccupy himself with his child while his mind wanders in no particular direction. If any time had passed, he isn’t really aware of it, and had it not been for the sudden presence of someone in front of him nor the looming shadow that darkened his view, he might’ve ended up sitting there all day.
He looks up just in time to see Bate hand him a bag. “Sorry for the wait. It took a little longer than I expected to check things out.”
Oh. Dragato had almost forgotten Bate had even gone to get him anything. “No problem, thank you, Teacher. I appreciate it…”
As he takes the bag and starts to peruse, though, because Bate had certainly gotten him more than just a water bottle, he also catches something else hanging by a handle in Bate’s free hand. “Something new the doctor’s making you try?”
“It’s for you, actually.”
“Huh?”
The box lands without fanfare on the floor in front of him.
“I believe this is the right brand,” Comes the remark, calm and oblivious. He doesn’t see the way Dragato takes one look at what’s in front of him and nearly drops what he’s holding. “I know it’s a bit of a medical privacy breach, but I wanted to make sure you had what you needed, so I got Mira to fill me on just a few details--”
“Y.” The words won’t seem to come.
The image on the front of the box – the kit – glares at Dragato and the words just won’t fit in his mouth.
“You bought a pump?”
Not even just the pump itself. Bate – Teacher Bate, his teacher, not his relatives, teacher – had gone and gotten him an entire starter kit. The pump, the tubing, everything he needed to get himself hooked up the moment he had time, no extra purchases necessary.
Dragato…
He just.
Can’t. He just can’t.
He looks up at Bate who looks back at him with a peaceable smile on his face and not at all panicking over the amount of money he’d just spent – not even on his sons, but on one of his students. A nephew figure at best.
“A pump doesn’t come on its own, usually, as Mira told me,” Bate looks up towards the ceiling and hums, “What good is one when you don’t have any of the attachments? But at least you have some extra supplies!”
Five thousand. That was how much it cost.
And Bate had just spent all of that on a whim. Just...like that. On him. When Bate had his own family and his own health and his own bills to take care of.
Dragato distantly starts to feel his breathing pick up.
“I—”
How is he going to repay him? How is he going to be able to thank him when no words would ever cut it?
Is Bate going to tell his parents?
“Breathe, Dragato. I think you’ve had enough stress for one day.”
A hand lands on his shoulder just at the same time as he feels Tali’s claws tighten into his skin, sensing the change in his mood. Bate gives him an even look, sizing him up for a long moment in the beat that passes between them.
Dragato says nothing.
Finally, Bate steps back and gestures to the doors leading outside. “Why don’t we take our leave? I believe we’ve both been here long enough.”
Dragato wants to argue. Had Bate gotten his medicine? Had he gotten to talk to Mira and get what he needed? He shouldn’t have to stop his own day to spend his money on snacks and medical needs for one of his students.
He so wants to protest.
He’s...also tired.
They leave. Bate ushers them out, letting Dragato take the lead with Tali held in one arm while Bate turns to give Mira a brief wave before following them out.
The walk back through the plaza is silent for a time.
Nature passes them by, short buildings and shops peppering either side of the stone walkway that they follow in a meandering path towards the plaza center. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and so there aren’t many people milling around the area beyond those opening their stores or running errands that couldn’t wait.
Dragato keeps himself slow so that he doesn’t pass Bate by, who seems content to just walk and take in the scenery. Tali might’ve been one to try and climb from his arms and run off to the nearest fruit stand – but then she was preoccupied with one of the snacks Dragato had gotten from the bag and was happy to hang on his shoulder while she ate.
There’s not a word shared between them until well after they’ve passed the plaza center fountain by, and by then Dragato simply can’t take the suspense anymore. The tension feels fit to bursting and he can’t let a good deed go unnoticed. Not this one.
“Thank you,” He mutters thickly, staring on ahead of him and unwilling to look Bate in the eye. “...I don’t know what I’d have done without it.”
It will never come close properly conveying how grateful he is, but at least...he said something.
“There’s no need to thank me,” The other waves off, “You needed it. Who would I be if I hadn’t helped someone close to me with something like that?”
“But still, the amount that that cost--”
“Dragato.”
Dragato snaps his mouth shut.
He can feel Bate peering at him. “There’s a saying that passes around here: ‘It takes a village.’ It took a village to help me when I was at my worst, it took a village to help your fathers, a village to help your cousins. It takes a village to raise a child. Physically and financially.
“I know her birth was sudden, and I’m so proud to see how devoted you are to her as her father. But it was sudden, and she is a very special little dragon. I think anyone would need help, if they were in your shoes.” Bate chuckles. “I know I certainly needed it when your cousins were little.”
Dragato stares ahead. The stone path winds on ahead of them, the shops and the houses that had been cloistered together at the center of Kalmari Town beginning to thin out as they start to make their way towards the outskirts heading home. Eventually, stone will give way to a bridge marking the edge of town itself, and then they’ll be on the dirt pathways branching into the rest of Kalmari as a whole.
It was easy for Teacher Bate to say. But…
“I just wish I’d done better,” He murmurs finally. It’s almost inaudible, even to himself.
“We’re never prepared to raise a child, Dragato. You’re already doing your best. But that hardly means you need to sacrifice yourself without leaning on others. You deserve to have your needs met too.”
Did he? Well. He did. But why did that have to mean worrying – bothering – other people?
Dragato doesn’t respond.
Greenery surrounds them as far as the eye can see as they proceed down the main trail, fields of grass dotted with the occasional tree and a few buildings that Dragato can just barely make out on the horizon. There’s not a cloud overhead of them and the sun, still making its ascent, beams down pleasantly, though the air still feels cool with the dredges of morning.
The pace they’re going, it’s almost easy to even forget what he was worried over in the first place. Father Ramset enjoyed the forest for that reason, among others; nature had a way of making you feel small. In a good way.
They don’t go too far before they’re forced to stop, though.
It’s a crossroads. A fork in the road, marked by a signpost pointed in two directions. Dragato knew it well – it pointed the way to his and Bate’s homes.
It also pointed to Kalmari Forest. Where Father Ramset lived.
“Your fathers don’t know, I take it.”
Dragato looks over to where Bate meets his gaze evenly, without judgment. He shakes his head tentatively.
Bate looks away, towards the forest entrance not far ahead. “What did you say earlier? It’s your fault for...relying on them so much?”
A part of his expression twitches – possibly the first sign of annoyance he’s shown since he found Dragato in the pharmacy.
“Dragato… You are their son. Growing up doesn’t change that. It’s not Tali’s fault she relies on you, and neither is it yours that you need to rely on them sometimes, either. I can’t imagine how they’d feel if something happened to you because you never told anyone.”
Dragato feels Tali’s weight centered on his arm, his shoulder. This close, he can hear her purring as though it were his own, a noisy thing that threatened to rattle his skull just a bit.
He couldn’t have imagined Tali ever feeling like she couldn’t ask him for anything. He’d have given his own wings if it meant she were alright.
Dragato could imagine the looks on his fathers’ faces.
“I just...don’t want them to worry about me.”
He didn’t want them to know he couldn’t take care of himself. He should’ve been better than that.
“I know. But you will give them a reason to, if you don’t tell them anything. You’ll give everyone a reason to when you end up in the hospital because of something you never told anyone about. Trust me,” Teacher Bate snorts, “I know all about that.”
Dragato stares on down the path leading into the forest. Father Ramset is probably up by now, fixing breakfast. Father Gravel is probably there too. He hadn’t visited in...longer than he cared to admit. They probably wondered why.
He was probably already making them worry, now that he thought about it. They just...trusted him to be honest and hadn’t said anything. And he hadn’t been honest much at all.
…
He really wasn’t looking forward to this.
“Teacher Bate?” Dragato asks.
“Yes, my boy.”
“Could you watch Tali for me? Just for a little while.”
The squint in Bate’s eyes tells Dragato that he’d already expected the request. “I would love to! In fact, I don’t believe the apple trees around my house have had their routine pruning in some time – I think I could use a certain someone to help out!”
Tali perks up at the first mention of apple, and it didn’t matter that she probably hadn’t caught anything else Bate had said about it. She heard apple, she saw him, knew he had apples, saw he was opening his arm for her, and that was all she needed to skitter down and run for him like her father was chopped liver. The whole thing made a smile glue itself to Dragato’s face; after this whole morning, Tali deserved every apple she could get her claws on.
Bate takes the snack bag from him with one final nod and a reassuring smile. “Everything will be alright. You’ll see.”
Tali waves goodbye. And then they both take their leave, setting off for Bate’s home.
Dragato is left alone.
He stands there for a few minutes, feeling the weight of the starter kit hang heavy in his hand. Knowing the questions he’s going to get and trying to figure out how best to answer them. How to explain everything.
Dragato takes a deep, deep breath--
And then starts off towards Kalmari Forest.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Father Ramset could be very, very excitable at the best of times. He’d been that way since Dragato and Falspar were little kids and decades later he still showed no sign of changing.
Ramset only needs to take one good look at Dragato upon opening the front door for him to prove it.
“Dragato!”
Dragato almost winces at the sheer volume of it. Ramset drags him into a hug that almost threatens to crush his wings, it’s so tight, and he exhales hard as the wind leaves him. Older, yes, weaker, NOVA no.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks now, Drago’!” Ramset gushes, “We were wondering when you’d show up! Me and Grav, we were thinking we would come by later today, drop off a few things for Tali since we just went to the shop yesterday and we wanted to see you two! Is she not here? She’d be chomping my fingers by now--”
Dragato takes it all with a wavering grin on his face and a steel-knuckled grip on the box in his hand, shoved behind his back just before Ramset opened the door. Ramset doesn’t notice, too caught up talking, and Dragato takes a brief second to peer past him into the house.
It’s the same as it was the last time he was here, with the exception of a scent wafting from the kitchen that pokes him as another North Novan dish they’d decided to whip up. Breakfast, as he’d thought, though it smells more like brunch.
Dragato’s gaze slides over to the couch in the living room. He hadn’t been wrong about Father Gravel being here. As though Father Ramset hadn’t announced it already.
Father Gravel… He and Ramset worked as a pretty good team. That was to say, for as excited as Ramset was, Gravel was calm enough to keep himself seated when Dragato had knocked on the door. They lock eyes when Dragato takes notice of him, and Gravel gives him a slow, thoughtful nod. It’s not a very good sign.
“It’s good to see you too, Fathers,” Dragato says by way of response. It is true, it’s great to see them; he’s missed them both quite a bit! “Sorry for...not being around much.”
“Don’t worry about it! We know you’re busy! Here, come in, don’t stand there-- I was just finishing up with the food, do you want some? Grav was just complaining about all of the North Novan cuisine I’ve been making--”
“—I wasn’t complaining, I just said that it made me feel like I was back on North Nova--”
“—Same thing! But we figured there was going to be leftovers, so good timing you’ve got! I’ll be sure and pack plenty for Tali when you go home…”
Dragato gets dragged into the house before he can say anything about it. It’s all he can do to keep the box from jostling behind him, enough to where anyone can notice, but he knows Father Gravel and he knows both his fathers’ eyes are sharp. If Gravel hadn’t seen before, he definitely did now.
His stomach twists on itself tightly, too tight to ever consider the idea of food. He’d tried to prepare what he would say on the way over, how he would explain things. He couldn’t remember any of it now. What was he going to tell them? What was he going to say?
Sweet NOVA what was he going to do--?
“Ramset.”
“Huh—?”
A hand lands gently on his shoulder. Dragato jumps like he’s been burned.
Father Gravel looks at him gently. “...Why don’t we all sit down.”
There’s no avoiding it now, he thinks. No avoiding how he sits opposite them in the living room and sets the box beside him, no avoiding the looks his parents give him at the image of a new insulin pump set on its front.
He goes ahead and answers because it’s easier than to hear their questions about it. “...It’s a new starter kit. I didn’t need the whole thing, but...Tali broke the pump during a thunderstorm last night. And they only sold it as a set. Teacher Bate said.”
“Bate?”
They’re his fathers. He loves them and knows they love him back. Bate was right; he knows they’d never want him to suffer.
He doesn’t understand why he’s so scared.
Dragato swallows. “...He bought it for me. I--” Takes a deep breath, pushes-- “--couldn’t afford it.”
And then it all just...spills out of him.
Every little detail. How the furniture he had was falling apart and how he could never afford anything new. How Tali had needed so much, and everything was costing so much just to keep up with, and how he couldn’t manage with the freelancing job he had. How he’d had to resort to selling some of his own things because the endless emergencies were just too much to afford.
How he hadn’t the money to keep up with it. How he hadn’t been prepared. How he wasn’t sure if he could care for Tali on his own without needing help from others. And that was what he needed. Help.
His parents both watch him as he lays everything out for the universe to see, quiet at the endless out-pour of confessions that bubble from his mouth without end. The silence is deafening, even when he knows logically that there is no possible way they could ever be furious, and his voice runs hoarse at the implication that they might actually be upset with him for this.
It’s when they see this, and hear this, coming from their son, that the both of them act. Ramset who gets up and practically runs his way over while Gravel follows behind, both of them clamoring to take a place at their son’s side.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dragato hears from his right. Ramset. “Dragato… We love you. So very much. We could never be ashamed of you for doing your best. We’re your parents, you know? We’d do anything for you.”
Dragato can’t look up. He’s afraid of what he’s going to see – what he’s going to do – if he does. The words force a noise out of his throat that he can’t name, and to his left, Gravel puts a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“You are our son,” Gravel murmurs, firm but so very sincere and so very soft. “You are neither a burden nor a failure nor any of these other foolish things. You are our son. Your happiness and safety are all that matters.”
Dragato hadn’t thought he’d been able to cry anymore after earlier today. But still, the tears came and so did the ugly sobbing in the back of his throat, scratchy and worn, tired. He leans into both their embraces and doesn’t shy back, sagging into two pairs of arms that had once held him as a little child and continue to hold him now.
“Everything will be okay now, Dragato. You don’t have to worry anymore.”
And, sitting there, cradled in their arms, after months and years of struggling to do all of this on his own...he knew that they meant it.
He didn’t have to worry anymore. About being a burden, about being a failure, about being a father. About needing help.
Everything would be okay in the end.
They clatter down into his lap, tucked into the pages of his book. Neither half looks worse for wear, luckily; one lens was cracked, but that had already been there. No, it appeared the tape keeping them together had just come loose. He can see it there, halfway unraveled on the bridge of one end.
It wasn’t surprising. More of a mild annoyance. The adhesive was cheap; he’d just need to double roll it next time.
Dragato picks up his glasses delicately, careful not to move them too much and risk bending something. It was still impressive, he thought, that Tali at four years old could snap metal in half with her tail of all things. Without even realizing it, even.
He might’ve been proud of her for such a feat of strength – actually, he was! ...If only glasses didn’t cost so much to get replaced. How much were they these days? A hundred for frames?
He was having a hard enough time keeping food on the table and intact furniture in the house. He didn’t feel like dealing with his glasses too when it could be avoided.
Dragato sighs and reaches up to rub his face.
It was his own fault. His parents had offered to buy new ones after Tali had broken them last month. If he’d just accepted then he wouldn’t have had a problem.
But then it wasn’t their responsibility. None of it was. It wasn’t their fault he had chosen to raise a child that he hadn’t been ready for and they shouldn’t have to bear the financial burden that came with it.
So he’d joked it off and left it at that.
Dragato stands from his recliner and goes to get the tape from the drawer beside him where he usually leaves it. As he reaches to open it up, he can see where the leg of the table sports a sizable missing chunk of wood where Tali had decided to make it her latest chew toy. Almost all of the furniture in the house sported something to that effect; he’s going to have to repair it before it falls apart.
Tali...was a rambunctious sort.
She’d been like this from the moment she hatched. Always running, always chewing, always playing or fighting, both at the same time more than likely. What was it his father Gravel had said? That the children of North Nova were more apt to kill than play?
He could definitely see it.
Dragato sits back down and starts taping his glasses back together. He hears a sound in the back, coming from Tali’s room, the scraping of wood that tells him she’s scratching at her dresser again. The only reason he doesn’t get up is because her furniture is North Novan – she’d smashed everything else.
Four years had gone by since he had been blessed with her presence, and she hadn’t changed a bit. If anything, he thought, she was arguably worse. Older, larger, with a developing strength nobody could control, much less herself. Rambunctious and eager to burn off energy, as children were, and nobody to play with who could handle her.
All that said, one could imagine how his house looked right now. He hadn’t had visitors over in some time.
That on its own wasn’t much of a bother for him. He wasn’t a stranger to house repairs, and had done his share plenty well before her arrival. If he had to spend a bit extra for essentials, then that was what had to happen.
It was, he thought, more so that a growing child with growing strength had growing needs. Needs that he wasn’t sure he could meet anymore.
Tali ate. Everyone ate, but Tali ate. Four times as much as any Squishy with no sign of ever being full. A growing draconic Zoos built for muscle and strength needed the protein to keep growing into that. When she was a baby, that hadn’t been so hard to handle. It hadn’t torn into his budget.
Now, though...
Dragato was going to have to take another trip out of town to the North Novan import shop. As expensive as it was, it was the only place that sold anything suitable for Tali’s quality of life, whether it was meat or cutlery or custom furniture. He was already dreading it.
His parents were going out there this weekend, weren’t they? They’d invited him.
He’d have to go earlier in the week, then. He felt bad about it, but he didn’t need them seeing him having to pick and choose between what to buy and how long it would last him. He didn’t need the questions.
Dragato takes a long look at the glasses in his hands, taped back together and relatively in one piece until the next time they fall apart. The crack in the lens glares at him accusingly.
He takes a deep breath.
What is he going to do?
He’s asked himself this question NOVA knows how many times now and still he has no answer.
Dragato was frugal. He didn’t want for much. Savings from his previous job as Cite’s bodyguard and his freelance photography work had gotten him by just fine before becoming a father. He paid the bills, got groceries, a few indulgences and reserved the rest for emergencies.
But he was a father now. He couldn’t afford to do that when he had a child to feed and look after. A child who, he thought ruefully, he hadn’t been prepared for. There was a reason many couples chose not to have children.
He hadn’t been prepared, for the damaged furniture or the expenses of imported goods, or the sheer amount of food he had to buy. Hadn’t been prepared for paying others over damaged property either. It was expensive, all together, and no amount of budgeting could ever make up for the emergencies that came up when something happened every week.
It had been fine for awhile. So much so that Dragato hadn’t even noticed when he’d begun to dip into his savings, bit by bit. Cite had had more money than he’d known what to do with, according to him, and paying Dragato for guarding him on his travels had to be well rewarded. How would he have thought to see the way his expenditures were eating into his savings?
But it had been four years, now, of accommodating North Novan needs and accommodations and keeping his house in working order and paying the bills on top of all of that. Something had to give eventually, and seeing that the cost to pay for a new table would leave Tali without a new North Novan bed was a grim realization to have about his circumstances.
He could’ve worked more – but then photography didn’t pay much, and he could only have his grandparents watch Tali so much. Nobody else would, or could. It...had left him with the unfortunate option of needing to sell a few of his things to cover some of the more hefty costs. North Novan furniture and destroyed property from Tali’s mischief, mostly, but he hadn’t missed the fact that it was beginning to stretch into his bills as well.
The only thing, above everything, that he made certain to budget for no matter what, was food. Meat, which was expensive, but Dragato didn’t care about that. Tali would never go without food if he could help it, even if it meant he had to go without and they had to stop attending every activity that necessitated spending money. If it meant Tali got to eat, he’d have sold everything of his he owned.
Didn’t meant he didn’t mourn it, though. Giving away the things he’d liked for money. Keeping a cheery face the one time Bate had seen him at the market to sell his belongings had been agonizing.
He should have been more self-aware. Should have done more research into the costs of raising a child, should have prepared more. He hadn’t noticed how low his funds were running until only last year and he wanted to kick himself for being so careless.
Dragato needed to figure something out, and soon. The stress wore on him by the day. A new job, something that paid. A profession working from home would’ve been ideal. But what skills did he have beyond photography? He’d left the army too early to be trained in any particular skill of value, and freelance didn’t pay the bills if you weren’t well-connected or working your rear off.
How did parents without support do it?
...Except he did have support.
He just...didn’t want them knowing.
It wasn’t their burden to bear when they’d already done so much for him. Cite, his parents, everyone. If it was anything he’d learned from all of this, it was just how much he’d had to rely on them in the past. For housing, for money, for...everything.
He was supposed to be supporting himself. He was supposed to be supporting his daughter. What did that make him if he wasn’t?
“Papa! Hungry!”
Dragato jumps at the noise and turns his head to look behind him, past his recliner.
Tali stands there just inside the living room. How Dragato hadn’t heard her leave her room, he’s not sure, but now Tali makes her presence known with a little stamp of her foot that makes him want to wince. That’s going to crack the floor...
“Hungry!” She says again. Big eyes look up at him bright with insistence and excitement both. Despite everything, all of the worry, he can’t help smiling at the picture.
Dragato takes one long breath and slides his glasses on before standing. “What do we say when we ask for a snack?”
“Uh. Please!”
But he’s already headed towards the kitchen, holding his hand out for Tali to scamper over and hold the way she likes to do. “Good girl! Yes, you may, Tali. How about some fruit? Do you want another apple?”
“Ya!”
Good, he thinks. He didn’t have much more than fruit right now. He’d need to head out of town early, then. Tomorrow. Probably take Tali with him, make sure she didn’t eat any of the stock – again – and cause another hole in his wallet…
Dragato looks down at her from the corner of his eye.
Tali walks with a bounce in her step, almost running to keep up with his own stride, but she doesn’t notice because her eyes are wide open and her grin looks big enough to practically hurt her little face. She’s so excited to eat something so simple as an apple, as if Squidmas had come early and nothing else mattered, and the warmth that held his chest was invigorating. Gave him confidence.
She was a child. She hadn’t chosen this life, these circumstances. She never meant to do any harm; she was a sweetheart and always felt bad when something happened. All Tali wanted was food and toys and cuddles.
She didn’t need to know any of this. She didn’t need to see him upset. Of all things, Tali blaming herself was the last thing he ever wanted.
Dragato grins when Tali turns her head up at him. “Apple!”
“Apple,” He chuckles with a nod.
Everything would be okay. It was all worth it, this he knew with certainty.
He just needed to keep smiling, and he would figure it out soon.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It isn’t her fault.
It isn’t her fault.
“Papa?”
She could never have known.
“Okay, papa?”
She was a child.
She was a child.
Dragato repeats the words to himself and tries not to hyperventilate.
He fails.
Frantically, with shaking hands, he fiddles with the pieces and tries in vain to slot them back together. He stands hunched over his desk so he can look at it better, as if by doing so he can somehow fix it. He already knows he can’t, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.
What is he going to do. What is he going to do. What is he going to do. It’s a mantra in his head that loops on repeat and he can’t stop it. There’s ice in his veins and a burning in his lungs and he can’t stop shaking long enough to put the pieces together to see if they’ll stay.
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. He can’t think. He can’t breathe.
Dragato stares down at the remains of his insulin pump and holds the edge of the desk with enough force that it digs into his palms. He holds it and focuses on the pain because if he doesn’t he’s going to scream.
He should have known better. He should have thought better. She always kicked in her sleep. He should have moved her when she crawled into bed. It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t.
What is he going to do? How is he going to get a new one? How is he going to pay for it? An insulin pump was thousands and he hadn’t the benefits to have it insured, NOVA he could barely afford the bills these days along with everything else. He practically had nothing else of value to sell and whatever else he did have he’d never be able to sell fast enough to cover the costs by the end of the day. What was he going to do, he needed it to live what was he going to do--
Cite.
Cite had money. Cite was a millionaire. Cite built and paid for his entire house. Cite was his friend. Cite would’ve given him anything he wanted.
Dragato immediately wants to retch.
No. Not him. Cite already did so much and Dragato was not a freeloader. Dragato was an adult. He was an adult with his own life and his own bills and his own job. Cite had done enough and Dragato would not keep using him like this. He was not that person.
There was Falspar, maybe. Falspar could’ve--
Dragato thinks of his parents. His absence from their shopping trips. They don’t know and he didn’t need them to know and if Falspar knew then they would because Falspar would tell them. They didn’t need to know. He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want anyone to know.
He got himself into this mess. It’s his fault. It’s his fault for not being prepared, for thinking he could still earn a living with what he had even now that he had a child, for-- for--
Dragato lets out a hoarse noise and put his head down on his desk.
Tali, several feet behind him, hovers near the door to his study and says not a word.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. I really wish I could help, but…”
“There’s nothing? There’s no sort of, financial assistance or prescription discount? There’s got to be--”
“If I could help you, truly, I would. Believe me, nobody should have to go without that! But, I’m afraid my hands are just...tied.”
Dragato looks down at the broken pump on the counter between them. Not under warranty, not covered under any kind of insurance, not functional. No discount.
It wasn’t Mira’s fault. She couldn’t help it. But he found himself wanting to open his mouth and scream anyway, because what else could he do.
He doesn’t, of course. Just stands there and breathes and tries not to lose it. Behind the counter is a new insulin pump, he knows. Even if he can’t see it, he still finds himself taunted by the mere fact of it.
Why did his own life have to be contingent on how much money he made?
So lost in his own thoughts, Dragato doesn’t hear the bell ring as someone enters the pharmacy. Nor does he hear their voice, nor their steps walking up to the counter.
What he does notice, though, is the way Tali seems to abruptly sit upright on the bench beside him. She had been quiet since they had made their way out here to the pharmacy, and it was easy to lose track of her when she was sitting so still. Seeing her move, and so quickly, catches him off-guard.
He looks at her, opening his mouth to ask what’s wrong--
“Dragato?” He hears behind him.
Dragato’s blood turns icy.
He stares down at the broken pump in front of him on the counter, trying to control his breathing. Teacher Bate goes on, oblivious, chatting amiably behind him as he steps further up. “Well, what a surprise! I’m usually the first here – didn’t expect to see you and Tali here so early!”
He can’t think of words. His heart drums in his chest and it feels like anything he tries to grab onto slips through his fingers like sand. He hadn’t known Teacher Bate would be here. Not so early. It’s his fault; he should have.
The pump is still on the counter.
Bate is right behind him.
Dragato takes one big breath – holds it –
and turns around with a big, pleasant smile and a wingspan that he hopes blocks the counter from view.
Teacher Bate stands in front of him and gives him a warm look, just barely hunched over with the hand on his cane keeping him steady. Dragato was neither Meta nor Arthur, but Teacher Bate had never treated them any differently. He was much like a sort of uncle figure, and at any other time Dragato might’ve been happy to have a few words. But this was hardly the time and Dragato couldn’t waste a second longer before Bate noticed something – if he hadn’t already.
Because Dragato...looks like a mess and he knows it. The tears from earlier had only just settled and the sting still lingers in his eyes, face splotchy, and there’s the faintest tremor in his limbs that he hadn’t been able to stop. No sort of smile can hide that and he knows it.
“Sorry, sorry,” Dragato chortles and ignores the warble in his voice, “We were just on our way, Teacher Bate! Don’t mean to keep you--”
He reaches back behind him surreptitiously, to see if he can’t grab the pump without drawing attention. But reaching behind him means having to tuck back his wing, and he knows immediately that Bate sees.
“An accident?” He asks kindly.
His heart drops. Dragato wants to curl up into a ball and pretend none of this is real.
“Unfortunate,” Bate continues, “You should probably get that taken care of before you two head off; NOVA knows how I’d do if I had to wait for my medicine! I’m not in any rush, don’t worry.”
Dragato doesn’t move. He can’t-- think.
He doesn’t know what to say.
Bate watches him for a long moment. Standing there with one arm behind him and another gripping his cane, he’s every image the guiding figure everyone had had throughout their lives. And yet Dragato can feel nothing but like a bug pinned under glass for examination, peeled apart and picked at.
“I can’t imagine you walking out of here without a new one,” Bate prods. Gently. “Is everything alright?”
Dragato opens his mouth for words that won’t come, staring at and through Bate as the ice in his torso spreads to each limb. His throat is closed tight and he can’t answer because he doesn’t know what’s going to come out if he does.
He’s fine. It was an unexpected slip-up and he was just a little short of the funds right now. He would drum it up in no time. Bate didn’t need to know. Nobody needed to know.
Why not?
Because he didn’t want their money. Because he didn’t want to be a freeloader. Because he didn’t want them to know that he’d failed – at being an adult, at being successful, at being a father.
And was it worth his life?
He hadn’t wanted this. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t meant to be so useless with money, and now he had nothing and Tali barely had anything and it was all his fault.
He was going to die because of his own negligence.
The breath Dragato lets out is hoarse. His vision burns and he can barely see the floor underneath his feet enough to make out the cracks. Everything comes to him like the weight of a star falling on his shoulders.
“No.”
It spills out before he can stop it. And then he can’t stop it.
“I thought I was ready, Teacher Bate,” He heaves hoarsely, “I thought I could do this. Be a father. But I don’t-- have enough. To take care of her. I never did. Just handouts from people around me. Everything costs so much and I can’t do anything about it, Teacher. I can’t afford it and-- it’s all my fault. For relying on them so much. I can’t afford it.”
It’s his fault. He tried. For months. He failed.
Tali needed so much more than he could give her. He needed so much more than he could give himself. Why had he done this? Why had he thought he could do this? He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything.
The shame curdles, deep in his gut. Failure for the world to see. Failure as a soldier, a friend, a son, a father. He’s not successful, he’s not smart. He’s not anything that they say he is. He’s just nothing. Nothing but a guy in over his head.
And now Bate knows everything. He hadn’t been able to hide it at all.
“I don’t know what to do,” Dragato chokes, “I don’t know what to do, Teacher. I just-- I don’t--”
And then
something tugs him forward.
He doesn’t register what’s happening at first. An arm wraps around his shoulder and a hand squeezes him, pressing him gently against the cool metal of a pauldron and rubbing circles into his back. He can see nothing but the dark of browns and the faintest green of an arm, one that holds him steady as the other arm cradles him close. Because that’s what this is – a cradle.
Teacher Bate is cradling him as if he were his own son.
“There, now. It’s alright.” He hears from beside him. “You’ve been holding this in for some time, haven’t you? I can’t imagine how that must have felt. It’s alright…”
Dragato tried so hard to keep it all to himself. Nobody should have known. It should have made him feel sick at his stomach, knowing that Bate now knew. He should’ve been ashamed.
All Dragato can feel, though, is the ever so slight pressure easing off of his chest as he lets Bate hold the bulk of his weight and heaves dry gasps and cries tears that have already been shed. It wasn’t his parents nor even his brother – but Dragato thinks distantly that that’s all for the better. He couldn’t bear to face them like this right now.
Eventually, Bate carefully ushers them both over to the bench beside the counter and nudges Dragato into a sit, which he does without complaint. He knows why – he’s too tired to feel like standing. He feels absolutely awful and all he wants to do is sleep.
“I’ll get you some water, alright?” Bate says, readjusting himself back to the support of his cane. “You get some rest, stay off of your feet. I imagine Tali has been rather worried about you, hm?”
Dragato pauses.
His gaze pans over to his left as Bate sets off, sliding down until it beholds a child bundled and curled up in the seat, tail tucked and ears lowered. When she sees him, her head perks up visibly, but there’s a hesitancy in the way she looks at him that makes his heart hurt.
In all of the commotion, beyond his initial breakdown, he hadn’t been able to afford her much of his attention. It had been life or death and he couldn’t focus on anything else, and poor Tali could smell change in demeanor a mile off. She hadn’t said a thing since this morning.
He couldn’t imagine how she felt right now.
“Hello, Tali,” Dragato murmurs hoarsely, and he opens his arm invitingly. “Would you like to come sit with me?”
Tali didn’t need told twice.
She crawls over into his lap on all fours, almost too quick for him to catch. Claws dig like needle points into the skin of his legs, tiny hands close to squeezing for all that they’re worth. Dragato doesn’t complain, though. It’s the least of his issues.
He strokes over the top of her head gently in a steady, soothing motion while she proceeds to loaf into his free arm. “I bet you’re tired, huh…” He feels her nod into his arm and swallows the sigh in his throat. How did you explain all of this to a four year old? “Me too, sweetheart. I think we could both use a nap…”
Dragato turns the words in his head.
“I’m sorry,” He mutters, giving her the slightest of squeezes. “Your father just...had a really bad morning. And he shouldn’t have scared you like that. That was very mean of him. He loves you so much, no matter what happens or how he acts. Okay? Papa will always love you.”
She doesn’t move much but for a slight adjustment of her posture, nor does she say anything. He can feel where she’s buried her face into him, though.
“Everything will be alright, Tali,” Dragato murmurs. He says it more to himself than his child, but they both could use the assurance. “Whatever happens. Everything will be just fine.”
It’s funny. He’d been panicking not twenty minutes ago, and yet-- now, he was...oddly calm. Heavy, but calm. It could have been resignation, or fatigue.
Or, maybe he’d just needed to actually let it out to someone. Either way, he feels...better. Than he was.
Dragato is content to sit there on the bench and preoccupy himself with his child while his mind wanders in no particular direction. If any time had passed, he isn’t really aware of it, and had it not been for the sudden presence of someone in front of him nor the looming shadow that darkened his view, he might’ve ended up sitting there all day.
He looks up just in time to see Bate hand him a bag. “Sorry for the wait. It took a little longer than I expected to check things out.”
Oh. Dragato had almost forgotten Bate had even gone to get him anything. “No problem, thank you, Teacher. I appreciate it…”
As he takes the bag and starts to peruse, though, because Bate had certainly gotten him more than just a water bottle, he also catches something else hanging by a handle in Bate’s free hand. “Something new the doctor’s making you try?”
“It’s for you, actually.”
“Huh?”
The box lands without fanfare on the floor in front of him.
“I believe this is the right brand,” Comes the remark, calm and oblivious. He doesn’t see the way Dragato takes one look at what’s in front of him and nearly drops what he’s holding. “I know it’s a bit of a medical privacy breach, but I wanted to make sure you had what you needed, so I got Mira to fill me on just a few details--”
“Y.” The words won’t seem to come.
The image on the front of the box – the kit – glares at Dragato and the words just won’t fit in his mouth.
“You bought a pump?”
Not even just the pump itself. Bate – Teacher Bate, his teacher, not his relatives, teacher – had gone and gotten him an entire starter kit. The pump, the tubing, everything he needed to get himself hooked up the moment he had time, no extra purchases necessary.
Dragato…
He just.
Can’t. He just can’t.
He looks up at Bate who looks back at him with a peaceable smile on his face and not at all panicking over the amount of money he’d just spent – not even on his sons, but on one of his students. A nephew figure at best.
“A pump doesn’t come on its own, usually, as Mira told me,” Bate looks up towards the ceiling and hums, “What good is one when you don’t have any of the attachments? But at least you have some extra supplies!”
Five thousand. That was how much it cost.
And Bate had just spent all of that on a whim. Just...like that. On him. When Bate had his own family and his own health and his own bills to take care of.
Dragato distantly starts to feel his breathing pick up.
“I—”
How is he going to repay him? How is he going to be able to thank him when no words would ever cut it?
Is Bate going to tell his parents?
“Breathe, Dragato. I think you’ve had enough stress for one day.”
A hand lands on his shoulder just at the same time as he feels Tali’s claws tighten into his skin, sensing the change in his mood. Bate gives him an even look, sizing him up for a long moment in the beat that passes between them.
Dragato says nothing.
Finally, Bate steps back and gestures to the doors leading outside. “Why don’t we take our leave? I believe we’ve both been here long enough.”
Dragato wants to argue. Had Bate gotten his medicine? Had he gotten to talk to Mira and get what he needed? He shouldn’t have to stop his own day to spend his money on snacks and medical needs for one of his students.
He so wants to protest.
He’s...also tired.
They leave. Bate ushers them out, letting Dragato take the lead with Tali held in one arm while Bate turns to give Mira a brief wave before following them out.
The walk back through the plaza is silent for a time.
Nature passes them by, short buildings and shops peppering either side of the stone walkway that they follow in a meandering path towards the plaza center. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and so there aren’t many people milling around the area beyond those opening their stores or running errands that couldn’t wait.
Dragato keeps himself slow so that he doesn’t pass Bate by, who seems content to just walk and take in the scenery. Tali might’ve been one to try and climb from his arms and run off to the nearest fruit stand – but then she was preoccupied with one of the snacks Dragato had gotten from the bag and was happy to hang on his shoulder while she ate.
There’s not a word shared between them until well after they’ve passed the plaza center fountain by, and by then Dragato simply can’t take the suspense anymore. The tension feels fit to bursting and he can’t let a good deed go unnoticed. Not this one.
“Thank you,” He mutters thickly, staring on ahead of him and unwilling to look Bate in the eye. “...I don’t know what I’d have done without it.”
It will never come close properly conveying how grateful he is, but at least...he said something.
“There’s no need to thank me,” The other waves off, “You needed it. Who would I be if I hadn’t helped someone close to me with something like that?”
“But still, the amount that that cost--”
“Dragato.”
Dragato snaps his mouth shut.
He can feel Bate peering at him. “There’s a saying that passes around here: ‘It takes a village.’ It took a village to help me when I was at my worst, it took a village to help your fathers, a village to help your cousins. It takes a village to raise a child. Physically and financially.
“I know her birth was sudden, and I’m so proud to see how devoted you are to her as her father. But it was sudden, and she is a very special little dragon. I think anyone would need help, if they were in your shoes.” Bate chuckles. “I know I certainly needed it when your cousins were little.”
Dragato stares ahead. The stone path winds on ahead of them, the shops and the houses that had been cloistered together at the center of Kalmari Town beginning to thin out as they start to make their way towards the outskirts heading home. Eventually, stone will give way to a bridge marking the edge of town itself, and then they’ll be on the dirt pathways branching into the rest of Kalmari as a whole.
It was easy for Teacher Bate to say. But…
“I just wish I’d done better,” He murmurs finally. It’s almost inaudible, even to himself.
“We’re never prepared to raise a child, Dragato. You’re already doing your best. But that hardly means you need to sacrifice yourself without leaning on others. You deserve to have your needs met too.”
Did he? Well. He did. But why did that have to mean worrying – bothering – other people?
Dragato doesn’t respond.
Greenery surrounds them as far as the eye can see as they proceed down the main trail, fields of grass dotted with the occasional tree and a few buildings that Dragato can just barely make out on the horizon. There’s not a cloud overhead of them and the sun, still making its ascent, beams down pleasantly, though the air still feels cool with the dredges of morning.
The pace they’re going, it’s almost easy to even forget what he was worried over in the first place. Father Ramset enjoyed the forest for that reason, among others; nature had a way of making you feel small. In a good way.
They don’t go too far before they’re forced to stop, though.
It’s a crossroads. A fork in the road, marked by a signpost pointed in two directions. Dragato knew it well – it pointed the way to his and Bate’s homes.
It also pointed to Kalmari Forest. Where Father Ramset lived.
“Your fathers don’t know, I take it.”
Dragato looks over to where Bate meets his gaze evenly, without judgment. He shakes his head tentatively.
Bate looks away, towards the forest entrance not far ahead. “What did you say earlier? It’s your fault for...relying on them so much?”
A part of his expression twitches – possibly the first sign of annoyance he’s shown since he found Dragato in the pharmacy.
“Dragato… You are their son. Growing up doesn’t change that. It’s not Tali’s fault she relies on you, and neither is it yours that you need to rely on them sometimes, either. I can’t imagine how they’d feel if something happened to you because you never told anyone.”
Dragato feels Tali’s weight centered on his arm, his shoulder. This close, he can hear her purring as though it were his own, a noisy thing that threatened to rattle his skull just a bit.
He couldn’t have imagined Tali ever feeling like she couldn’t ask him for anything. He’d have given his own wings if it meant she were alright.
Dragato could imagine the looks on his fathers’ faces.
“I just...don’t want them to worry about me.”
He didn’t want them to know he couldn’t take care of himself. He should’ve been better than that.
“I know. But you will give them a reason to, if you don’t tell them anything. You’ll give everyone a reason to when you end up in the hospital because of something you never told anyone about. Trust me,” Teacher Bate snorts, “I know all about that.”
Dragato stares on down the path leading into the forest. Father Ramset is probably up by now, fixing breakfast. Father Gravel is probably there too. He hadn’t visited in...longer than he cared to admit. They probably wondered why.
He was probably already making them worry, now that he thought about it. They just...trusted him to be honest and hadn’t said anything. And he hadn’t been honest much at all.
…
He really wasn’t looking forward to this.
“Teacher Bate?” Dragato asks.
“Yes, my boy.”
“Could you watch Tali for me? Just for a little while.”
The squint in Bate’s eyes tells Dragato that he’d already expected the request. “I would love to! In fact, I don’t believe the apple trees around my house have had their routine pruning in some time – I think I could use a certain someone to help out!”
Tali perks up at the first mention of apple, and it didn’t matter that she probably hadn’t caught anything else Bate had said about it. She heard apple, she saw him, knew he had apples, saw he was opening his arm for her, and that was all she needed to skitter down and run for him like her father was chopped liver. The whole thing made a smile glue itself to Dragato’s face; after this whole morning, Tali deserved every apple she could get her claws on.
Bate takes the snack bag from him with one final nod and a reassuring smile. “Everything will be alright. You’ll see.”
Tali waves goodbye. And then they both take their leave, setting off for Bate’s home.
Dragato is left alone.
He stands there for a few minutes, feeling the weight of the starter kit hang heavy in his hand. Knowing the questions he’s going to get and trying to figure out how best to answer them. How to explain everything.
Dragato takes a deep, deep breath--
And then starts off towards Kalmari Forest.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Father Ramset could be very, very excitable at the best of times. He’d been that way since Dragato and Falspar were little kids and decades later he still showed no sign of changing.
Ramset only needs to take one good look at Dragato upon opening the front door for him to prove it.
“Dragato!”
Dragato almost winces at the sheer volume of it. Ramset drags him into a hug that almost threatens to crush his wings, it’s so tight, and he exhales hard as the wind leaves him. Older, yes, weaker, NOVA no.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks now, Drago’!” Ramset gushes, “We were wondering when you’d show up! Me and Grav, we were thinking we would come by later today, drop off a few things for Tali since we just went to the shop yesterday and we wanted to see you two! Is she not here? She’d be chomping my fingers by now--”
Dragato takes it all with a wavering grin on his face and a steel-knuckled grip on the box in his hand, shoved behind his back just before Ramset opened the door. Ramset doesn’t notice, too caught up talking, and Dragato takes a brief second to peer past him into the house.
It’s the same as it was the last time he was here, with the exception of a scent wafting from the kitchen that pokes him as another North Novan dish they’d decided to whip up. Breakfast, as he’d thought, though it smells more like brunch.
Dragato’s gaze slides over to the couch in the living room. He hadn’t been wrong about Father Gravel being here. As though Father Ramset hadn’t announced it already.
Father Gravel… He and Ramset worked as a pretty good team. That was to say, for as excited as Ramset was, Gravel was calm enough to keep himself seated when Dragato had knocked on the door. They lock eyes when Dragato takes notice of him, and Gravel gives him a slow, thoughtful nod. It’s not a very good sign.
“It’s good to see you too, Fathers,” Dragato says by way of response. It is true, it’s great to see them; he’s missed them both quite a bit! “Sorry for...not being around much.”
“Don’t worry about it! We know you’re busy! Here, come in, don’t stand there-- I was just finishing up with the food, do you want some? Grav was just complaining about all of the North Novan cuisine I’ve been making--”
“—I wasn’t complaining, I just said that it made me feel like I was back on North Nova--”
“—Same thing! But we figured there was going to be leftovers, so good timing you’ve got! I’ll be sure and pack plenty for Tali when you go home…”
Dragato gets dragged into the house before he can say anything about it. It’s all he can do to keep the box from jostling behind him, enough to where anyone can notice, but he knows Father Gravel and he knows both his fathers’ eyes are sharp. If Gravel hadn’t seen before, he definitely did now.
His stomach twists on itself tightly, too tight to ever consider the idea of food. He’d tried to prepare what he would say on the way over, how he would explain things. He couldn’t remember any of it now. What was he going to tell them? What was he going to say?
Sweet NOVA what was he going to do--?
“Ramset.”
“Huh—?”
A hand lands gently on his shoulder. Dragato jumps like he’s been burned.
Father Gravel looks at him gently. “...Why don’t we all sit down.”
There’s no avoiding it now, he thinks. No avoiding how he sits opposite them in the living room and sets the box beside him, no avoiding the looks his parents give him at the image of a new insulin pump set on its front.
He goes ahead and answers because it’s easier than to hear their questions about it. “...It’s a new starter kit. I didn’t need the whole thing, but...Tali broke the pump during a thunderstorm last night. And they only sold it as a set. Teacher Bate said.”
“Bate?”
They’re his fathers. He loves them and knows they love him back. Bate was right; he knows they’d never want him to suffer.
He doesn’t understand why he’s so scared.
Dragato swallows. “...He bought it for me. I--” Takes a deep breath, pushes-- “--couldn’t afford it.”
And then it all just...spills out of him.
Every little detail. How the furniture he had was falling apart and how he could never afford anything new. How Tali had needed so much, and everything was costing so much just to keep up with, and how he couldn’t manage with the freelancing job he had. How he’d had to resort to selling some of his own things because the endless emergencies were just too much to afford.
How he hadn’t the money to keep up with it. How he hadn’t been prepared. How he wasn’t sure if he could care for Tali on his own without needing help from others. And that was what he needed. Help.
His parents both watch him as he lays everything out for the universe to see, quiet at the endless out-pour of confessions that bubble from his mouth without end. The silence is deafening, even when he knows logically that there is no possible way they could ever be furious, and his voice runs hoarse at the implication that they might actually be upset with him for this.
It’s when they see this, and hear this, coming from their son, that the both of them act. Ramset who gets up and practically runs his way over while Gravel follows behind, both of them clamoring to take a place at their son’s side.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dragato hears from his right. Ramset. “Dragato… We love you. So very much. We could never be ashamed of you for doing your best. We’re your parents, you know? We’d do anything for you.”
Dragato can’t look up. He’s afraid of what he’s going to see – what he’s going to do – if he does. The words force a noise out of his throat that he can’t name, and to his left, Gravel puts a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“You are our son,” Gravel murmurs, firm but so very sincere and so very soft. “You are neither a burden nor a failure nor any of these other foolish things. You are our son. Your happiness and safety are all that matters.”
Dragato hadn’t thought he’d been able to cry anymore after earlier today. But still, the tears came and so did the ugly sobbing in the back of his throat, scratchy and worn, tired. He leans into both their embraces and doesn’t shy back, sagging into two pairs of arms that had once held him as a little child and continue to hold him now.
“Everything will be okay now, Dragato. You don’t have to worry anymore.”
And, sitting there, cradled in their arms, after months and years of struggling to do all of this on his own...he knew that they meant it.
He didn’t have to worry anymore. About being a burden, about being a failure, about being a father. About needing help.
Everything would be okay in the end.
-The End-
Artist Comment:
July 4, 2024
-----------------
Even Star Warriors need a little help every now and then. ;v;
*Gonna post this a day early since I'll be away until Monday. =v=; I'll try to post something in between! Anyways! I'm so happy this piece is finally finished! Technically, this isn't the original illustration. I loved the pharmacy scene so much, I decided to draw it. I'll post the original sketch below. There's quite a lot to talk about, so I'll be posting some info below:
Dragato is currently a single father, he doesn't have much of a job anymore since he doesn't travel with Cite. And his funds are really limited. He left the army too early, so he gets no special funds or support. With Tali eating basically double the amount of food than a regular child, and how much it costs to purchase imported, North Novan goods for her, he's really starting to struggle. On top of his own needs, and other cost of living things are getting really tight.
After Dragato left the army, and before he adopted Tali, he lived and traveled with Cite. At first he was Cite's bodyguard. (Protection from demon beasts and stuff while they travel) Later on, he'd find his passion for photography, and Dragato would always shoot photos during his travels. Dragato would earn a small income from his photos on top of Cite paying him for his protection. Another important note is Cite being filthy rich. A multi millionaire. He was the one who bought everything for Dragato- his cameras, food, glasses, anything for him. Of course, Dragato would always pay when he's able to, he doesn't want to be a freeloader. But Cite has more money than he knows what to do with it. After Cite and Vera married and had Gryll, Dragato felt like it was time for him to move out. Cite was the one responsible for paying for Dragato's home. Out of friendship, kindness. Cite honestly values Dragato's friendship SO much when they were kids/teenagers/young adults. And he will always repay it tenfold. Dragato is hesitant about receiving gifts, especially something as large as his own house, but Cite will not take no for an answer.
Ramset and Gravel aren't rich like Cite , BUT they do have money. Enough to be comfortable for the rest of their lives, and more than enough to always spoil their kids and Tali. Gravel, being able to create his signature Ruby, would sell them at high prices. Something that was always seen as taboo in the eyes of Gravels clan has helped him earn a steady income when he and Ramset took Falspar and Dragato in. They were able to give their kids anything they wanted. Ramset earned money from his fireworks. Being the best fireworks in West Nova, Ramset is never short on customers when it comes to festivals and events. So he's saved up quite a lot over the years.
The last thing I wanna touch upon is Dragato's health. It's rarely mentioned, I've probably only brought it up twice throughout the entire Gumball Warrior series., but Dragato is diabetic. (Type 1) It was from an old story I wrote, but it was never touched upon again. Dragato takes really good care of himself, but sadly accidents happen. Tali tends to bite and kicks in her sleep, and one day during a thunderstorm (Tali HATES storms) Tali snuck into Dragato's room and broke his insulin pump by accident. A replacement runs about 5,000 starbits in Kalmari Town (A price Dragato is unable afford) He's too ashamed to ask for money- he doesn't want his family or friends to think of him as a failure for not being able to take care of himself. Obviously, his parents will never think of him as such. They love their son so much, and they will always be there to lend a supportive hand when needed.
I'd eventually like to make a continuation later on. Especially Cite's response when he hears what happened. Cite and Dragato are Bffs, and I dooon't think Cite will take the news well at first. Dragato could've died that day. ;;; I'd also like to touch upon their friendship dynamic. It's sorta like the roles are a bit reversed- Dragato sees himself as a burden as an adult, while Cite had similar feelings of being the burden when they were kids. Dragato helped Cite negate those feelings when they were younger, and now it's Cite's turn to help Dragato. I can't wait to drabble about that~ 8D
Anyways, I thiiink that's all I wanted to discuss. I hope you enjoyed the read~! ^-^
July 4, 2024
-----------------
Even Star Warriors need a little help every now and then. ;v;
*Gonna post this a day early since I'll be away until Monday. =v=; I'll try to post something in between! Anyways! I'm so happy this piece is finally finished! Technically, this isn't the original illustration. I loved the pharmacy scene so much, I decided to draw it. I'll post the original sketch below. There's quite a lot to talk about, so I'll be posting some info below:
Dragato is currently a single father, he doesn't have much of a job anymore since he doesn't travel with Cite. And his funds are really limited. He left the army too early, so he gets no special funds or support. With Tali eating basically double the amount of food than a regular child, and how much it costs to purchase imported, North Novan goods for her, he's really starting to struggle. On top of his own needs, and other cost of living things are getting really tight.
After Dragato left the army, and before he adopted Tali, he lived and traveled with Cite. At first he was Cite's bodyguard. (Protection from demon beasts and stuff while they travel) Later on, he'd find his passion for photography, and Dragato would always shoot photos during his travels. Dragato would earn a small income from his photos on top of Cite paying him for his protection. Another important note is Cite being filthy rich. A multi millionaire. He was the one who bought everything for Dragato- his cameras, food, glasses, anything for him. Of course, Dragato would always pay when he's able to, he doesn't want to be a freeloader. But Cite has more money than he knows what to do with it. After Cite and Vera married and had Gryll, Dragato felt like it was time for him to move out. Cite was the one responsible for paying for Dragato's home. Out of friendship, kindness. Cite honestly values Dragato's friendship SO much when they were kids/teenagers/young adults. And he will always repay it tenfold. Dragato is hesitant about receiving gifts, especially something as large as his own house, but Cite will not take no for an answer.
Ramset and Gravel aren't rich like Cite , BUT they do have money. Enough to be comfortable for the rest of their lives, and more than enough to always spoil their kids and Tali. Gravel, being able to create his signature Ruby, would sell them at high prices. Something that was always seen as taboo in the eyes of Gravels clan has helped him earn a steady income when he and Ramset took Falspar and Dragato in. They were able to give their kids anything they wanted. Ramset earned money from his fireworks. Being the best fireworks in West Nova, Ramset is never short on customers when it comes to festivals and events. So he's saved up quite a lot over the years.
The last thing I wanna touch upon is Dragato's health. It's rarely mentioned, I've probably only brought it up twice throughout the entire Gumball Warrior series., but Dragato is diabetic. (Type 1) It was from an old story I wrote, but it was never touched upon again. Dragato takes really good care of himself, but sadly accidents happen. Tali tends to bite and kicks in her sleep, and one day during a thunderstorm (Tali HATES storms) Tali snuck into Dragato's room and broke his insulin pump by accident. A replacement runs about 5,000 starbits in Kalmari Town (A price Dragato is unable afford) He's too ashamed to ask for money- he doesn't want his family or friends to think of him as a failure for not being able to take care of himself. Obviously, his parents will never think of him as such. They love their son so much, and they will always be there to lend a supportive hand when needed.
I'd eventually like to make a continuation later on. Especially Cite's response when he hears what happened. Cite and Dragato are Bffs, and I dooon't think Cite will take the news well at first. Dragato could've died that day. ;;; I'd also like to touch upon their friendship dynamic. It's sorta like the roles are a bit reversed- Dragato sees himself as a burden as an adult, while Cite had similar feelings of being the burden when they were kids. Dragato helped Cite negate those feelings when they were younger, and now it's Cite's turn to help Dragato. I can't wait to drabble about that~ 8D
Anyways, I thiiink that's all I wanted to discuss. I hope you enjoyed the read~! ^-^
ALSO!! This was the original sketch I had attached with the summary. This illustration was going to introduce something new to Gravel- his eye. I was thinking of giving him a glass eye during Tali's hatchling years. o3o
--
The amazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^
The amazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^
Species © Nintendo/ HAL Laboratory
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
