Geoffrey stared at the alfalfa sprouts, mushrooms, boiled acorns, wild persimmons, and apples presented to him as his breakfast, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He had nothing against vegetables and fruits, but he’d been eating the same things for the past week for breakfast, dinner, and supper. The last time he checked, he was human, not a deer, and he needed meat to recover his strength.

“Is something the matter?”

“No, of course not!” Geoffrey flashed Cerwin a bright smile, picking up an apple and plunging his teeth into its hard flesh.  

Oh, the perfect ripeness again.

Every fruit and vegetable Cerwin brought him was always perfect. Neither unripe nor too ripe. It would be even better with some strips of jerky, but Geoffrey couldn’t very well ask his benefactor to hunt for him, could he now? For some reason, he couldn’t even imagine the mountain spirit taking a life. He had deer characteristics and had been bringing him food that deer typically ate. In his mind, Cerwin was an herbivore, and asking an herbivore to hunt didn’t seem right.

On the bright side, the mountain spirit knew not to feed him raw things that were poisonous to him, a human. He prepared them ahead of time, like acorns, ensuring their safety for consumption before handing them to him. Everything was gathered and washed with care.

What more could he ask? It was already more than enough.

Not gonna lie, it tastes better than pea soup and hard bread, anyway.

“—I could try to catch some fish,” Cerwin grumbled, his voice carrying a deep reluctance. It startled Geoffrey into forgetting to chew on the piece of apple still in his mouth. “I don’t know how to prepare them for cooking, though, so you’ll need to guide me with, well, everything, and I don’t guarantee the taste.”

“You don’t have to!” Geoffrey choked on the apple bit, tapping his chest to make the food pass. Tears glistened at the corners of his eyes as he added between two coughs, “What you’ve been giving me is good enough! Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry?” Cerwin’s mouth twitched, and Geoffrey instinctively shrunk onto himself. “Kid, your recovery is slow, too slow for a healthy young man. You need to eat well to recover faster, and the wind has been scolding me about what I’ve been feeding you. It’s been adamant that humans need meat and whatnot. You are an omnivore species, after all. Anyway, vegetables and fruits won’t cut it in the long run, and we both know it, so I might as well get used to the idea now. Fishing or hunting does not please me, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

The wind? Geoffrey repeated for himself, averting his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Cerwin had said something about the wind telling him things. He couldn’t quite comprehend what that meant, and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to know, either. Even if he had accepted that the being before him wasn’t human, it was another thing altogether to learn about what made him different from him.

Humans are scared of the unknown, wasn’t it? Perhaps that was true.

That aside, Geoffrey couldn’t deny Cerwin’s words, either. Although the bruises and cuts were healing well, and the fever had receded, a lingering dry cough still ambushed him from time to time, setting his lungs ablaze now and then.

In his opinion, though, it wasn’t anything too worrisome. Geoffrey had tried to explain to the mountain spirit that it was most likely just a cold, and a cold could take a long time to fade.

“I caught one hell of a nasty cold in my teenage years and was stuck coughing my lungs out for months. Really, there’s no need to make a fuss over a bit of coughing. It’ll go away on its own at some point,” Geoffrey had said to try to quell his worries, but to no avail.

Cerwin hadn’t been convinced, and he’d made his misgivings known.

Today, too, the mountain spirit was showing signs of worry. It almost drew a chuckle out of Geoffrey. Underneath that grumpy temperament lay a worry-cat nature, didn’t it? How cute.

“The witches would know how to treat your cough better than I do. I can go down the mountain to ask their opinion on the matter, and—”

“Don’t,” Geoffrey interrupted Cerwin, shaking his head. “It’s fine, truly. We just have to be patient.”

A pause, then Geoffrey offered a smile to the mountain spirit, ever-so-kind, but long resigned. “I also don’t have the right to ask for their help, do I?”

Silence fell for an instant until Cerwin let out a scoff.

“As you wish.”

The mountain spirit didn’t push the matter further, and Geoffrey didn’t comment on it, either. Instead, he concentrated on his food.

To be fair, there wasn’t much more left to say on the matter. Even if the witches had a way to treat his symptoms and alleviate the coughing fits, he couldn’t ask for it, not after what his comrades had done to them. Geoffrey might have turned a blind eye whenever he could, but he couldn’t always. Some had died because of him, burned at the stake. So, how could he ever ask them for their help? Not only was their answer obvious, but it also seemed morally wrong.

“I’ll be going to the river to try to catch something for dinner.” Cerwin clicked his tongue. “You should rest.”

“Can I come with you?”

The question seemed to startle Cerwin, and he blinked.

“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to rest.”

“Cerwin, I’ve been resting for a week already. If I don’t start moving around soon, I feel like I’ll forget how to walk. Don’t worry, I won’t exert myself.”

“Geoffrey…”

“Do you even know how to catch fish to start with?”

The mountain spirit opened his mouth only to close it and pinch his lips. Geoffrey almost couldn’t resist laughing at the sight. Cerwin had said he was an open book, but he wasn’t any better. It was easy to tell he had no idea whatsoever about how to catch fish. Not like Geoffrey was skilled at fishing, but he at least knew the theory. He just wasn’t good at putting it into practice.

“Fine, I get it. Give me a minute, I’ll go fetch you some clothes.”

A sheepish smile slipped onto Geoffrey’s lips. Finally, he could get some clothes. He had been too embarrassed to ask these past few days, and the blanket of fur did the trick, anyway. At the time, he was also sweating buckets, and it would have drenched whatever clothing Cerwin lent him in a matter of minutes. Now that the fever was gone, and his skin wasn’t covered in a thin layer of sweat, it should be fine.

What wasn’t fine, though, was the clothing Cerwin brought back. It was a dress, pretty much a replica of what he wore. It made Geoffrey a little ill at ease, for that was the kind of clothing indecent women would wear. Or at least, that was what he had been taught. Outfits that showed too much skin were immoral, the kind of thing that would drag people’s souls to hell.

Brat, you’ve got to come with me to a brothel one day, you’d finally get what it means to fall to temptation, and why women are the devil’s spawns! Ah, I can’t forget their pretty, supple white skin! What kind of man could resist, huh?

Richardson had always loved to gossip and spout out vulgar things about his trips to the red district and what he saw. Even if this clothing suited Cerwin well, giving him an elegant air, Geoffrey wasn’t so sure about how it would look on him, especially because of his small frame. He could not help but think back on his comrade’s words. He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts, however.

“If the clothes don’t fit your taste, you can also stay butt-naked. I don’t mind either way.”

It had been a while since Geoffrey felt his ears warm up with shame. He had somehow grown used to the mountain spirit wiping his body, applying the balm, and changing the herbs, but he still felt self-conscious of his body in any other context. Walking outside in his birthday suit? No way! He’d die of embarrassment.

“So? Need help to put on the dress?”

“I’ll probably need your help, yes,” Geoffrey admitted in a small voice, burying his flushed face into his hands. 

His limbs still felt heavy, and he didn’t trust himself to stand up without falling headfirst. After a week of forced rest, his legs were no better than a newborn fawn’s. He wasn’t prideful enough to pretend that he was fine and could move around on his own, for he knew he wasn’t.

Albeit with difficulty, Geoffrey did his best to ignore the discomfort as Cerwin helped him put on the dress. Despite the frown creasing the mountain spirit’s brow, his every move was careful, almost as if Geoffrey were a porcelain doll, and one wrong move would result in a disaster. It took much longer than necessary to put on that dress, but he didn’t complain and obediently complied with Cerwin’s directives.

I wonder if he thinks I’m made of glass or something…

“There you go.” Cerwin nodded as he fastened the braided cords around his waist. Tight enough so the dress wouldn’t fall apart, but not too tight that it would give him a stomach-ache. “It looks good on you.”

The compliment took Geoffrey aback, but he responded with a light chuckle. “You don’t have to force yourself to give me compliments, you know?”

“I’m not forcing myself, though.”

“Uh-huh.”

Geoffrey couldn’t believe him, as he was well aware of his own appearance. Thanks to the sickness and his lack of appetite, he had lost a few pounds over the past few days. He was already lanky enough as it was before falling off the cliff… If this continued, he feared he would soon be nothing but skin and bones. Skeletons weren’t exactly what he’d call beautiful, and they were usually buried six feet under for a good reason.

“But why is it open on the back? It feels a bit breezy.”

“Oh, that.” Cerwin blinked, as if he couldn’t understand why Geoffrey asked a question that had such an obvious answer. “It’s for my tail. I don’t have dresses with closed backs, so it’ll have to do.”

“Tail? You have a tail?”

Tilting his head to the side, Geoffrey tried to take a peek at the mountain spirit’s back. Up to now, he hadn’t noticed a tail, but that might be due to his long hair. It formed a thick veil on his back, making it almost impossible to catch a glimpse of anything hidden underneath, including a tail. Now, he was curious.

“It’s just a deer tail. No need to make a fuss.”

A deer tail? Stars seemed to shine in Geoffrey’s green eyes at the thought. Although it made sense that it was a deer tail, considering Cerwin had deer ears and antlers. Still, the possibility of him having a tail would never have crossed his mind had he not been told about it. Maybe because he lacked imagination.

“Anyway, how do you want to go down the mountain?” Cerwin not-so-subtly changed the topic of conversation, distracting Geoffrey’s mind from the deer tail.

“Eh?”

“Don’t look at me with that dumbfounded face. You can’t climb down the mountain on your own right now. Either I carry you in a bridal carry, or you hold onto me. And, no, I won’t be carrying you on my back; my hair would get in the way a bit too much.”

“Why are you offering two options when you know only one is viable?” Geoffrey heard himself ask as he scratched his cheek, which had turned crimson yet again. He obviously didn’t have the strength to hold onto the mountain spirit, and he could already see himself releasing his grip at some point. Needless to say, it was a recipe for disaster, and he didn’t feel like tempting fate today.

“Out of politeness?” Cerwin answered with a cocked eyebrow. “Some male humans would rather die than be bridal carried, for some weird reason.”

“What? No—”

Stopping mid-sentence, Geoffrey ultimately couldn’t refute the mountain spirit. Richardson’s face popped into his mind, and he had to admit that the middle-aged man would rather jump down—

Jumped down, Geoffrey. He’s gone now.

—a cliff than be bridal carried anywhere. 

His chest clenched with a twinge of grief, but Geoffrey willed it away, pretending he hadn’t noticed the pain clutching at his heart. In the end, Richardson hadn’t been the only man he knew who was hellbent against being held by another man. Many soldiers were of the same mind, as if being carried like a woman was the greatest affront they could ever experience, something so humiliating they would rather choose death. Men should be respected as men and never act like feeble-minded beings, or so they said.

As if being born a woman were the greatest vice on earth.

Cerwin never goes easy with his words, does he? There’s no nonsense with him. The thought crossed Geoffrey’s mind as he cleared his throat to murmur, “It’s fine, I don’t particularly mind.”

“Is that so?” Cerwin snorted before sweeping him off his feet, earning himself a cry of surprise as Geoffrey instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck. “Let’s go, then. If we want to catch something for you to eat, that is.”

With that said, Cerwin turned on his heels, bending his upper body as he passed through the narrow tunnel toward the outside.

The moment they emerged from the mountain spirit’s dwelling, Geoffrey’s breath was taken away by the scenery. Even though Cerwin had been repeating that they were in the mountain, he hadn’t expected the cave to be located atop the mountain, almost high enough to touch the clouds.

From his vantage point, Geoffrey could see the valley in its entirety, with the river winding through  the forest. The glaring sun made him squint, but it didn’t prevent him from taking in the sight.

That was until he turned his attention to his left.

“What happened there…?” He couldn’t help but exclaim, horror filling his gaze as he stared at the sudden lack of trees. It felt like the forest was bleeding, and he could see small black dots moving around, just like ants crawling on the ground.

“Why so surprised? Don’t you know there’s a human settlement there?”

The cold tone sent shivers down Geoffrey’s spine, and he momentarily forgot how to speak. Right. There was a mining settlement around here, if his memory served him right. According to the merchants he had crossed paths with, they had discovered a gold vein in the mountain, and the excavation had been going on for a few years now. It was on the other side of the mountain range, so Geoffrey never actually had the chance to lay eyes on the said settlement, even if he knew about it.

“I knew but…”

But he had no idea about the devastation. From high above, the man-made changes were apparent, too apparent to be ignored, and the beautiful scenery was slashed in half, as if a part of it was now slowly rotting away.