“A unicorn?” I question.

He shakes his head, “More ancient.” He looks like he’s pining after it and suddenly I feel bad, he needed healing more than I did. 

“Why didn’t it heal you too?” I ask before I can stop myself.

He looks at me and shakes his head, “It doesn’t work like that…you being healed was just from being touched by something as pure as them. A correlation.” He breathes.

“What did it want?” I ask, looking up confused and feeling heavy.

“If I knew that I would be a lot less confused.”

He looks conflicted and then gestures to my arm, “Can I see it?” I pull my arm out of the sleeve and lift the hoodie so I can see what changed as well. “Oh wow.” He admires. I stare at my arm and other than a star like scar where I got stabbed squint confused. The scar is pearlescent but that’s all I see. I wonder if he sees something more that I can’t. 

I look at his eyes for a while and he looks up. I feel him tense and hesitate like whenever he gets too close to me. I almost feel disappointed when he pulls back hesitantly. Then being a stupid reckless idiot I grab his hand. He winces and I curse softly removing the bracelet and an apology forms but isn’t voiced as he looks down at the bracelet. 

“You keep doing that.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I scoff like it's obvious and am very aware I’m not just talking about the bracelet. 

'I’m lonely. I want to be anything more than enemies with him and I’m aware of how desperate I am. I will take whatever he is willing to give me.'

 

He looks away conflicted for so long I reach out and brush his bristles again and he jumps letting out a yelp, a little shiver going through him. 

“Sorry,” He explains embarrassed, “Like I said they’re sensitive.” He whispers. I nod and pull in so slowly before placing my head on his shoulder. I’m painfully aware of how hard my heart is beating. We’re so tense. His illusion flickers a little. “If he stuck you with one of them I wouldn’t have let you die.” He says suddenly, playing with a broken off bristle, turning to look me in the eyes, “Just because I wanted to lie to him doesn’t mean I feel anywhere close to the same way about you.” 

I pull away to tuck my legs in and lay my face on my knees. “I think I would understand if you didn’t like me though. It's my fault what happened with your dad.”

He tenses. He looks away quickly and I realize I should shut up. “Not all of them deserved to die.” He says very quietly.

“I believe you.” I play with the strings at the cuffs of my pants. 

“My siblings, yes they ate the meat they were served but-” I look up as he lets the tears flow freely. “They weren’t the ones killing.” I nod and make myself smaller soothing myself a little by rocking back and forth. 

“My dad yeah he deserved it, my older siblings…they’d join in on hunts so yeah.” He looks pained and then lets out a shuddering breath, “But my mom.” I wince when his voice cracks, “She let me be myself, she was so nice…she never forced me to hunt or eat anything,” he touches the pin, “or be anyone I didn’t want to be.” 

I know this is probably where I should comfort him. I look at him because I don’t really know how. “Part of me wishes I’d just been caught by your dad then none of this would have happened.” 

He starts a little bit at my confession. 

I look at him helplessly and shrug.

“You wouldn’t feel that way if he actually caught you, he was a monster.” His soothing voice sours with a sneer. I feel my eyes widden as he narrows his a little. I realize I’d like to ask him something else. 

“Could you drop the illusion?” I ask stroking some of his arm fur. He looks a little surprised. “You want to see the ugly, pig version of me and not the cute illusion I worked so hard to make?”

I laugh a little from shock and then getting serious again point a little to his nose, “I can see it already. It's a little weird seeing double this whole time and I don’t think you’re ugly I think your nose is…soft looking.” I almost said it was cute, again.

He recoils a little, tilts his head and his ears flop, “You can see straight through the illusion?”

I nod and he lets out a little breath. 

“That’s why I’ve been feeling so exposed,” he shudders, “you kept meeting my eyes and I swear I caught you looking at my snout. Maybe I’m just weaker,” he mumbles to himself and then the illusion flickers fading with that same sparkling yellow light. I feel my eyes open wider as I now see him very, very clearly. 

I like how he kept his eye and hair color the same but no longer can I see the cute button nose. He looks away a little uncomfortable as I barely blink taking in his snout and well…boar head. He seems less confident too as he waits for something. 

“What type of fae are you?” I ask finally. 

“Um well that’s the thing I’m just a pig-man or boar fae it’s pretty self explanatory.”

“The psycho calls you a Gruagach.” I notice him tense at the mention of the madman. He laughs, “Still more fae than wildman, ogre or troll,” He thinks of a joke and says “but you can call me a pig-sy.” 

I take a second to get it and then snort, “I like that, pigsy.” After a second he looks back at the forest, “People always seem to assume that just because we’re a little ugly looking that we must be ogres or something.”

“I think it’s the man-eater part of it?” I laugh making a soothing gesture in case I insulted him. 

“They forget that boars and pigs usually symbolize strength and valor, sometimes war but even in battle they are revered and some even became rides of gods.” I see his eyes sparkling again and can imagine the bedtime stories.

I lift my eyebrows a little. “How does that work?”

“Usually a saddle.” 

I choke on a laugh and then stop resisting letting it all out he realizes his mistake. 

“Oh, you meant how they get to be revered,” He flushes, “Well if you’re lucky... some fae can make a name for themselves and people repeat their name and stories until they get powers and stuff. They become either a god or some really long living magical being that might as well be one.”

I look out into the woods thoughtfully. “What's your nam-?”

“I’ve also been told that the gods used to send boars to punish bad people.” The madman says from behind us causing both of us to jump and turn. I note how quickly the glamor returns, covering the teen. He covers his snout as the madman has a small animal, turning into me away from the smell. I watch as he walks around the car closer towards us, “But then who punishes the boars that become evil men?” 

He shoves the boar to his feet and pushes him back towards the fire. I follow quickly and tensely in case anything happens but he just rechains him by his neck. “Take care of your sister.” He orders him and hands me the car keys. I go unlock the car and bring the carrier over to where the boar could reach her. The madman acknowledges that my arm is working again.

The madman guts his kill. A rabbit I think, I try not to watch. He steals the stick we sharpened and uses it to roast the rabbit. I notice the boar keeping his head down and shaking a little. I place a hand on him protectively, looking at the madman, not going to lie the rabbit was starting to smell good. 

“Can I take some to Bird?” I ask suddenly. 

“Mmm no. Don’t worry. It’s not in any danger or dying,” he rolls his eyes. “Are you wanting some of this?” He asks, “I may use some of it as part of a trap later though.” I look at him nodding hesitantly to see if he’s joking it’s impossible to tell. 

When the rabbit is done and the madman offers me some I guiltily accept it making sure the vegetarian isn’t watching as I enjoy it.

The madman for some reason took this as a victory over the teen and not that I’m just starving and never stopped liking meat. Still he acts overconfident for the rest of the evening and as he makes sure that the boar knows I ate it. He also strangely enough makes sure I’m comfortable in the backseat. He takes the cage with him when he lays down next to the fire. 

I watch as the pigsy, 'he said it jokingly but I like it,' takes care of his baby sister making her giggle and squeal with happiness as he makes faces and plays peek a boo. Once he's sure she is warm enough he settles down near her. My heart aches and I miss my parents.

I remember the flash of burns and frown deeply. I sneak over to him and unlock him quietly. He sleepily smiles a little at me. I suddenly realize he could escape. I choose to walk away and go to bed. I can’t help but hope they're not here in the morning. I close my eyes eventually. 

I roll back and forth tormented by recent memories and experiences. The fear of what will be done to me when the madman realizes what I’ve done. I wake up to a noise and sit up looking around terrified. The teen knocks on the car door again and I look up confused. Unlocking the door slowly and a little relieved I open it, “What’s up?” 

He looks away shyly. “Can I sleep in there with you? I…” He can’t seem to finish his sentence. I look at his cute human face, some sort of illusion or trick to make people think he was a human just like them. I’m sure he added extra cuteness to the illusion because I feel myself giving in. His eyes flickering away, wavy strands of hair messed from sleep falling into his big begging eyes.

I lay on his chest feeling our hearts racing but he’s incredibly comfortable and he hasn’t said or done anything to make it weird. But I still want to know, “Did you have a nightmare or something?” I ask. I think it’s fair since he is literally a prisoner. I’ve slept outside in the woods before when camping but now I can’t because I just can’t after the recent nightmares. Ever since seeing that monster in the woods I dream about getting dragged away into the pitch darkness, out of the circle. Of the owl. 

“You whimper in your sleep.” 

'And he made it awkward.' 

“You have nightmares, crying out and whimpering every time you sleep…it is making it difficult to sleep tonight.” 

“Oh I’m sorry I’ll just stop having nightmares then.” I snarl pushing away. He winces not understanding the sudden hostility and then I tense, “Sorry. I, I’ve had nightmares long since before I met you.” I say hoarsely, “I’ve been through a lot of shit and I'm taking it out on you.” I slide my hand through my hair guiltily. “It's not you, it's not fair to you.”

He’s quiet. “I just thought I could help you sleep better and then by proximity help me sleep better,” he chuckles weakly trying to lighten the mood, picking up I’d rather he were doing this for selfish reasons then concern. 

I think about it and then nod.

“Sorry for making you feel weak.”

I look up at him desperately wanting to glare but at the same time maybe because it was dark and we were alone and sleep deprived, kiss the adorable, shy, cute button nose boy. 'Am I falling for an illusion? Because underneath…I’d just kiss pig snout. He’s not human. For fricks sake he might hurt me by accident or I might trigger his urge to eat humans.' 

He tilts his head at me. “Why do you always look at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“It’s like you can see right through me.”

“I can, we've literally had this conversation before.”

“No, like you know how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking, it’s so intimidating.”

I look at him again and peeking to make sure that my uncle is still asleep I decide to ask, “You have a chance to run away.” I gesture to his sister, “Why don’t you?”

He looks at me for a long time from my scarred lip then down to the healed cut across my chest, “He’d kill you.”

I look down. 

“Or the fairy.” He crosses his arms a little, “If I leave we’re all leaving.”

“But I can’t…” My voice breaks a little. “I’m sure he won’t kill me, he’d be alone again, having to start all the way over.” I’m less than convincing, “Take everyone else and go.”

He’s already shaking his head, “I became a vegetarian because I hate the thought of someone or something dying for me.” He softens his expression, “It makes it harder how nice you are to me, to my sister, to Bird.” He clenches his fist and points to my hand, “You literally bleed for them to be able to eat and to protect me.” His human face tears up and flickers a little. I’m flushed and finding it hard to breath.

“Could you drop the illusion?” I know that my feelings will calm down a bit if he does.

I look at his real form. A boar’s head with black fur and some lighter colored markings that are pretty in the moonlight. Most of the bristles are around his head and neck and base of his ears. His body is humanoid but his front is covered in light soft fur. I’ve noticed it’s heavier and more wiry on his head, back, and arms. It's thickest over his buff shoulders. 

His stomach looks soft. I look up at him wondering if I could ask to touch it? Except he looks even more shy and insecure, I feel my lips curl up in a weird smile. I want to mess with him not that I actually like him or anything. I touch his snout a little and he squints. 

“What?” I ask. 

“It’s ticklish.”

“It’s soft,” I say and lean forward before I can think it through and how it’s a terrible idea and stupid and so, so wrong. I kiss him on the snout. His eyes get as wide as they can and for a second I don’t know if he’s going to get mad or not. “I think it’s cute,” I manage to say my preplanned excuse. Hold the farce, act fool, it was just a silly little boop on the snoot. Nothing serious. His illusion covers his face again and I at first think it’s a bad sign but he’s blushing. 

“Sorry I… I’m a little flustered.” He covers his face and then explains, “Human’s don’t normally call me cute so I ugh I’m not explaining this very well, thank you for the compliment.” 

“Compliment.” I repeat and realize I’m upset. This wasn’t just a compliment, it was an invitation…an invitation to see what happens and... and I’m stupid and played right into his hand. I'm easy to read because his expression becomes soft, playful he lifts himself up on an elbow and leans in. I turn my head a little bit away, tensing, he stops and gives me a long look with those big black eyes again. Searching my soul.

“Now I wonder what your hair feels like?” He says coolly, “I always see that crazy guy playing with it so I started wondering how nice it felt?” He reaches for my hand and someone firmly but still hesitant pulls it forwards to his chest, “It’s not like mine, coarse, bristly, and somewhat stiff.” He lets go and I realize he’s right. I relax my hand letting it slide down towards his stomach. 

“Not here, it’s softer,” I say. 

He snorts lightly, “That’s my downy layer, still not as soft as your hair looks.”

I realize he’s asking to touch it. 

I nod a little looking away as he reaches forwards. “I feel like he does that as an intimidation tactic.”  I say under my breath a little too honestly. I close my eyes almost expecting him to clumsily grab a handful but he just messes his hand into it.