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There was a gap between moonset and sunrise where time seemed to fall away. Birdsongs either ceased entirely or echoed into the silent, starlit morn. Rodents rose from their slumber. Night creatures prepared to tuck in for the day. Chilled wind tickled past foliage, slowly whisking away the dew and fog. The scent of far off flowers passed through a small archon. Cecilia, windwheel aster, sweet flower… and distant frost, he noted.
His lyre strings sung with him as he waited for the sun to peak over the mountains. It was a strange song, but one he still enjoyed. Its happy air held melancholy heavy under its melody. Many songs in the future were like that. He found it interesting.
His performance never ceased, even as the first warm rays of the sun cut through the trees. The forest floor became speckled in red. Light dotted his body. They danced on him as he strummed, cutting through the deep shadows he was enveloped in. Red shifted slowly to orange, then yellow, before settling on its normal bright pale. The color of the woods popped with the new light, giving way to soft greens and yellows of the leaves mingled with bark and soil. Melting frost glittered like gems. The little archon watched with shining eyes as the flora perked up with day’s wake.
Oh, what was in store for Venti today?
Letting his lyre dissipate, he stretched his arms until his shoulders cracked loudly. He swore softly as he twisted his back. He sighed in thought. Maybe he could try and sneak drink from Angel’s Share again? Oh, but that might be too much work, wouldn’t it? The new Ragnvindr heir claimed he would kick his own god out if he caught the deity pilfering again! Then again, getting his hands on some good dandelion wine might be worth the risk. A drink for him, another for his old friend, and maybe even one for that new acquaintance-
Oh, he paused.
He leaned back on the dusty rock he was dirtying his ass on. The traveler and company’re off to Liyue, aren’t they? He pouted, leaning back. Busy bastards, the lot of them. Can never stop moving, can they? Oh, Morax would love them. By the other six, let’s hope he finally gets off that high mountain in the clouds to meet them. Maybe I could race there and figure out a good contract to fuck with the old blockhead. A smile spread across his face. Oh, I’ll give that man a headache.
His laugh was sharp, piercing the silence, and he flinched at it just as he heard the sound of crunching leaves. His head whipped violently at the new source of noise, face scrunched in blank panic. His pinprick gaze softened when it landed on the source. He smiled. “Ah, hello there,” he called. He cocked his head, leaning forward. “You’re the young fellow from Wolvendom, yes?”
Crouched on all fours was a scarred lad. Their head bowed low to the ground, bloodshot eyes looked cautiously through their bangs. They rose to two feet, claymore on their back clinking quietly. “H- hello,” they rasped out softly. Their gaze roved over the god as they stepped forward on shaky legs. Ah, the wolf boy was still learning how to walk upright, weren’t they? Venti wondered why he’d seen the librarian dress the child in a corset once. “Razor from- Razor from Wolvendom, yes.” Razor tentatively inched closer to the bard, nose twitching. Venti couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he lifted a hand for the boy to smell. They sniffed the man’s palm.
Their face twisted in a grimace. They shook their head violently and scrubbed their nose with both hands. “…dumb juice. Like hunters at moon. You drink?”
Venti brought back his hand, blinking. He giggled. “Dumb juice? Well, I’ve never heard it be called that before.” He shook his head, grin feeling too wide on his face. “Ah, that’s a good one! Where’d you hear that term? The little cat cocktail maestro?”
Razor’s eyes squished thin as they watched the bard. “Razor no know mey- maes- meiste- cat. Red and bla- Diluc ,” they said. Venti leaned closer to hear the boy. “Diluc, telled Razor- hunters, ah…” Razor put their head in their hands. “He say, uh- um, Diluc tell Razor-” They huffed and rubbed their face. “Words hard. Please- sorry. Sorry, Razor needs- needs time a bit…”
Venti hummed. “As long as you need.” The breeze tickled past them. He looked at the human closer.
The boy’s certainly changed. Venti remembered the fleeting days where Razor, bony and malnourished, sprinted near nude through the woods, save for a ripped red quilt that kept them warm on days where their pack’s fur wasn’t enough. They’d stunk perpetually of shit, dirt, and sweat. Their skin was a more sickly pale. They’d yet to have those symmetrical scars. And their hair was much more unkempt.
Not to say that it wasn’t now; its severity certainly lessened, but…
“Well,” Venti spoke. He pat the rock he sat on when Razor looked up. “While you find your words, sit here so I can fix your hair.”
Razor’s face scrunched uncomfortably. “…Diluc say- said no close get smelly dumb juice hum- people.”
“Huh? But doesn’t he smell like this ‘dumb juice‘ too? He’s surrounded by the stuff.”
“He- yes. Strong, always him. But…” Razor rubbed their face, a groan coming out like a gurgle. “He say no talk- do not talk to humans just drink- just dru- drank silly juice.”
“But I didn’t just drink silly juice, silly. Now let me get those knots out of your hair; what if you see your teacher today?” Razor’s eyes widened slightly. Venti giggled. “I think she’d appreciate seeing you cleaned up a bit if she saw you on one of her strolls.” Apprehension was evident in Razor’s stance. Their toes dug into the dirt, nose twitching. But they gave in when the bard beckoned.
They dragged their feet and settled down at the foot of the rock, looking up at the shorter man. Venti spun his finger. “Turn around,” the god said. “Can’t get to the bramble if I can’t see it.” Razor squinted at him, mouth pulled to an uncomfortably thin line. “Please?” Venti’s puppy eyes were certainly something, as it made Razor mumble an apology and face the path they came from.
Whatever Razor would’ve thought to say was lost as Venti carefully carded his cold digits through their hair, slowly working his way through the knots and pulling out whatever he found trapped in there. They relaxed as he worked. He untangled the few strands ensnaring twigs, thorns, and leaves. The only traces of dirt were at the tips of those split ends. By Celestia, Venti thought as he flicked his fingers. His face strained awkwardly as the stench of dandruff and oil hit him. I’m going to have to wash my hands in boiling water after this. No shame to you, friend, but your scalp is disgusting.
Half an hour into grooming, a soft puffing sound made Venti pause. …is he… He looked to Razor’s side just as the boy jolted out of their stupor. Venti snorted at their tired expression. Humans were always more needy when it came to their resting requirements, weren’t they? Venti couldn’t fault them. “Were you off to the land of nod,” he asked.
Razor blinked wearily, eye twitching slightly. “Mmn… what nod land?”
“Ah. Well, it’s just another way of asking someone if they’re sleepy.”
“Mm… sleepy. Burny friend get sleepy, sometimes. When moon bright out.”
“Yeah? Oh, hold on,” Venti grabbed just above a twisted branch coiled tight in some knots. “This might hurt,” and he yanked out the branch with his other hand with a crack-tear. “Sorry, just needed to get that out. You were saying?”
“…burny gets sleepy. Not want go- to go back home. But say… Jean will get angry.” Razor shivered. “Teacher angry, scary.”
“M’hm?” An oily wolfhook fell to the ground.
“Burny scared of Jean angry.”
“Mn.” Venti rolled the new broken strands into a small ball of hair.
“So, sometimes have to- Razor have to take burny back to city. Try to leave her at gate, but sometimes sleep f- fall asleep while Razor carry her.”
“Ah, and you take her back to the knights? How thoughtful!” Is that a dead rat- oh thank fuck no, I would've puked.
“City quieter at moon,” they yawned. Their voice grew smaller and sluggish as they talked. “Less humans. Jean with others… wait for… burny.” They slapped themselves hard on the face to wake up. “Sorry.”
How in the hillifucker did- what the- Venti slowly worked out a rusted metal gear from its hairy prison. “Hey, pardon, um, quick question: how by the archons did a cog get in your hair?”
“…hog?”
“Cog.” The confuzzled archon waved the metal piece in front of the young man. “This thing right here.”
Razor’s eyes shone in curiosity, gently grabbing it like it were a fledgling that fell from the nest. “Why thing human in fur?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.”
“Oh…”
Venti shook his head. “Eh, it doesn’t matter much, anyway. You can keep it if you want.” He went back to detangling. “Just don’t let it get back into your mat, alright?”
“Mat?”
“Hair.” The two fell back into silence, Razor busying themselves with picking at the trinket as Venti finished up untangling the boy’s hair. Ten knots… nine… eight. Six. Five… three, two, one, and… Venti laughed, triumphant. “There.” Strands were still frayed out, but it was certainly tamer than how it started. And fluffier, too. “ Wow, that took longer than expected. But still, that was fun!” He hopped off the rock, cape fluttering. He turned to them. “Well, with that out o-” His stomach rumbled loudly. He groaned, patting his empty tummy. “Ah… I completely forgot about you.”
“…hunt?”
“Huh?”
Razor put the cog in one of their many coat pockets as they stood. “You hungry. Razor hungry, too. We hunt? Oh. Or- Razor hunt, you wait?”
The wind blew colder, and Razor sniffed the breeze. “Boar,” he whispered. He nodded to himself, determined eyes turning to Venti. “Razor hunt. Get boar. Silly get potatoes.”
“Potatoes? Silly?”
“Yes. Razor… me cook meat. And potatoes. Make hash-browns, like teacher show!”
Venti pursed his lips. “And let you get your hair dirty again?” Razor’s face shifted, eyes flickering. Their mouth twisted at that, confused. Venti sighed. “Okay, wait- how about this?” He pulled out a ribbon. “I’ll tie it up so it can’t get messy. Then you can go hunt. Does that sound better?” Their determined nodding made him smile warmly. “Alright. Turn around and hold still one more time.”
Venti took the orphan’s cloud-like hair in his hands one more time. Pull up, twist, twist, knot, and… “Alright, done!” A tight bun sat atop Razor’s head. “Fine work if I do say so myself.” Razor pawed at it. Venti lightly smacked their hand away. “Don’t go undoing it now!”
“…thank you.” Razor said. Their mouth stretched like it was going to smile, but stopped just short of its upturn. “Big boar Razor get for us.” And he took off into the trees. All was quiet for a moment, save for the chirping and chattering of critters in the late morning. The leaves rustled. Shadows shifted.
And the lone archon chortled. “Welp,” he said to himself. “Those potatoes won’t find themselves.” He took off at a leisurely trot.