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Caleb sat on the stone floor, calves still burning from hours of walking, with a pencil in one paw and his journal in the other. Forty minutes spent writing and Asher hadn't yet returned from scavenging. He was supposed to be gone for only half an hour. Twirling his pencil, Caleb looked up from his page. The rest of the cavern lay sightless. His stomach churned as the blackness drew in. Like the lab’s darkness that had enveloped him as a child. He remembered cowering beneath those thin, itchy blankets, bony knees to his chest, small tail wrapped around him, surrounded by the silence of lights that no longer hummed, the silence of vents whose warm breeze had stopped, the silence of his breathing that had gone still. Then his room's door opened. The wafted smell of vanilla cologne. A pistol slide racking. Equipment on a cart rattling, approaching.
He shuddered back to the cavern when frigid water touched his leg. It trickled down from a ledge above, forming a small puddle beside his knee; and from it branched rivulets weaving through the serrated stone. He scooted closer to the glowplant providing him with light. No. Asher will return soon. Maybe he just found something useful. It's just been forty minutes—
Caleb reached out to touch the water, darkening the white fur on his paws. He unbuttoned his leather holster and took out a small knife, the light uncovering smudges and scratches. Then he angled it beneath one of his eyes, which lit the metal cutting edge a dim blue. He rubbed the smooth handle, with white lines running like roads through the umber wood, one of them traced by the tip of a claw, leading to an uneven carving of his name in his poor handwriting on one side, and, on the other, a perfect heart. Drawn by Asher.
Where was he?
He stared at the heart a long moment before sheathing the knife. When the breeze began biting into his skin, he grabbed his white tail and hugged it tight like a blanket. Soft and warm, but the cold seeped in anyway.
Then came a tickle in his throat. A second later, an unbearable itch. And as hacking coughs escaped him, each one a bark that echoed through the cavern, he clasped a paw to his chest, lungs burning, the contents of his stomach twisting, rising, threatening to erupt. When the coughs had finished, he closed his eyes, head up to the ceiling, taking in deep, ragged breaths.
“Caleb,” said a voice to his left. Pebbles gently scraped the floor behind Caleb, brushed by his wagging tail. Asher’s voice! He quickly turned towards him: a black-furred figure faintly lit by the sole glowplant, his amber eyes cutting through the dark. Asher was shivering with an assortment of geofruits carried in his paws and more bulging from his knapsack. “Sorry I took so long, I saw tons of food and I thought I should’ve grabbed it all, or at least as much as I could carry.”
White clouds of breath rose from Asher’s mouth as his eyes closed for a brief moment. Caleb imagined how far the walk must have been, to be carrying all of that with no help.
Asher slowly kneeled down and let the fruits roll from his arms and took off his knapsack and set it in front of him. Then he crawled towards Caleb, holding two geofruits in his paws.
“Hey,” murmured Asher, “I heard you coughing on my way back, how are you doing?” He held out a geofruit.
“I’m okay,” said Caleb, taking the offering. He took a bite, a cold against the roof of his mouth.
“Your coughing sounded rough.”
“No, I’m getting better. It was worse yesterday.”
Asher paused, shrugging. “It sounded kinda the same to me.”
“I’m getting better,” said Caleb flatly.
“Okay.” Asher sat down next to Caleb, who inched closer until his waist was against Asher’s, feeling his trembling.
“This cold is ridiculous. How did you even survive nearly an hour out there?” said Caleb.
Asher scoffed. “I just did. These helped—” he patted his green-and-white striped arm warmers; an old gift from Caleb. “—so thanks for that.”
Caleb nodded, leaning back against the stem of the glowplant. Cold running down his back. “I would have helped,” he murmured, looking straight ahead to the darkness.
“I know,” said Asher. “Did you draw anything in your journal?”
“No, I was not in the mood.”
“How much did you write?”
“The same as usual.”
They both remained just like that, eating their fruit in silence for a few minutes before Asher got up again. “I’m gonna go grab some wood—Caleb wait—”
Caleb was getting up until he felt a paw holding him down at the shoulder.
“You’re not going with me. It’ll take me five minutes tops,” said Asher.
“If I help, you’ll get back faster,” protested Caleb.
Asher shook his head. “It’s right there,” he pointed behind him, somewhere in the dark. “You’re sick. You need to rest.”
“And you don’t?”
“Caleb, please.” Asher looked at him with a worried expression. Caleb dipped his head and rubbed at his arms.
“Be back in a bit.” Asher took the flashlight out of his knapsack and clicked it on and walked to where the dark once was. In the solitude, Caleb took in deep breaths and reminded himself that Asher would return. He wished they had a spare flashlight.
Within minutes, Asher returned with a pile of small logs in his paws. “What did I say?” he said, grinning.
Caleb gave him a faint smile. Asher set down the wood some distance away near a boulder and took out a bit of kindling and placed it below a log. He took a flint from his knapsack and struck at a chunk of metal for a few minutes until sparks jumped into the air. A wisp of smoke rose and an orange glow burst into a flame. The firelight wavered with the breeze, Asher’s shadow dancing near Caleb. The logs popping and crackling. Caleb tracked an ember as it rose and fell, losing its glow and splitting in the air, becoming ashen snowflakes that swirled atop the stone.
Asher beckoned him over, sitting against the boulder. Caleb walked, shivering, then sat beside him and held his paws in front of the fire. He turned to Asher, whose eyes reflected the restless flame.
He felt the touch of two paws on each side of the bottom of his neck.
“What are you doing?” murmured Caleb, already lowering his shoulders.
“Giving you your favorite massage.” Asher pushed on Caleb’s back as if directing him forward.
“You’re going to get yourself sick,” said Caleb, his smile widening.
“I would’ve gotten sick by now. Come on.”
When Caleb moved, Asher got in behind him; his legs against Caleb’s, transporting their warmth between them. The amber tips of Asher’s black tail lay beside Caleb’s thigh, and Caleb reached to caress it. Soft and silky. Then Asher dug his paws into Caleb’s trapezius with these deliberate, firm motions like those of a trained masseur. For a moment, Caleb completely forgot about the unforgiving cold that surrounded them moments before, forgot about the darkness and the cavern they were stuck in, forgot about his worry for Asher and the cargo they had to find. He let his eyes close and head drop. Deep, involuntary breaths escaping him. Only the sounds of their breathing remained. When Asher eventually stopped his motions, Caleb opened his eyes, observing distant foliage that had hidden in the darkness, now illuminated by the fire. Sprawling and hardy and verdant. Then Caleb leaned back into Asher’s chest and surrendered himself to his tender grasp. Against his back throbbed Asher’s heartbeat.
Once, he had looked to the cavern’s stone landscapes, its darkness deepening with each day that had gone before. He would walk for weeks but the cave kept going. A silence to hurt your ears listening. He would find life pods with no survivors inside. Bodies lying scattered on the floor which he grasped onto, wishing they were just sleeping, but were instead stiff and cold. On most days he wanted to escape the waking world, dreaming of a warmth to hold, a heartbeat to listen to, something louder than his lone thoughts.
They could die today or tomorrow; the cargo they sought may not exist. But he could still savor the taste of a geofruit, feeling its cold in his mouth and down his throat; feeling his fur stirred by the wind, the fire fighting against the cold.
He clasped Asher’s paws and leaned further back, his body rising and falling with Asher’s precious breaths, the weight of Asher’s head on top of his. Then he closed his eyes, the fire’s warmth embracing them both.