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“Sometimes—and I feel bad for saying this but—sometimes I miss my home,” Perrine dropped the wooden spoon into the pot, eyes staring unblinkingly at Clémentine. It had been a quiet evening, Kingsley and Cole had left to go gather spices they need for dinner. Perrine planned to go hunting for wild chickens alone—as they always did—but oddly enough, Clémentine began following them but they said nothing.
Now they sat, boiling the newly plucked and gutted chicken. Rusty kettle boiling water for tea, as they sat across from one another. Perrine raised a brow at Clémentine, who sat unblinkingly, unreadable expression as always.
“What are you on about?” Perrine crossed their arms.
“I suppose I’m starting to get homesick,” Clémentine nervously laughed but Perrine picked the spoon back up. No smiled cracked.
“I was wondering if I had cooked the mushrooms from yesterday’s lunch properly. Looks like you ate the whole batch,” Clémentine gasped lightly, crossing its arms.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m calling you crazy,” Clémentine looked to the side, the breeze blowing its curly bangs into its eyes. “Homesick,” Perrine scoffed like an exhausted father. “What is there to miss? We’re not in the best condition now but we’re not as miserable as before,”
“Perhaps I am loosing my head,” It said, slicing away at radishes, its silver eyes weary. Perrine stopped stirring the soup and looked up at Clémentine’s sadden expression. Despite the disapproving frown Perrine had, they felt regret saying such a thing. Perhaps they were getting too used to being harsh.
“Why?” Perrine sighed, watching the soup bubble.
“Well because if I was at home right now, I wouldn’t even be eating chicken soup. Soup was a lunch meal,” Perrine cleared their throat and Clémentine looked up from the radish. “Yet despite that, I feel a longing to go back,”
“Uh, I meant why do you miss home?” Clémentine folded its hands together, mask hanging from its neck.
“Well, as much has I hated how controlled everything was, I never expected life to be so…unpredictable. Everything’s changing and I love the new change but, it’s all too much for me. I get overwhelmed sometimes,” Clémentine handed the wooden board to Perrine and they tossed the radishes in, making the soup sizzle then still.
“Why don’t you make your own schedule?” Perrine said, their attention now on Clémentine rather than the soup. “A reasonable one?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sunrise- Get out of bed. Brush teeth, clean your instruments. Simple and leaves enough room for the unpredictable,” Clémentine neaten the ruffled ends of its sleeves.
“I’ve been doing something similar,” The soup then bubbled and crackled, overflowing the pot and Perrine quickly removed wood from the fire to put it out.
“And it hasn’t been helping?” Perrine’s voice a bit panicked but still adamant about keeping their attention on Clémentine.
“No, it’s nothing too different from what I already do during the day. No matter where I go, I have a routine. But that’s not what’s really bothering me,”
“There’s something else?” Perrine looked up again, shocked to see Clémentine’s eyes narrowed as a tear trailed down its face.
“I fear I miss my mom,” It’s voice cracked, shocking Clémentine as much as it did Perrine. Clémentine tried to muffle its whimpers with its sleeve.
“Oh Clémmie, come here,” Perrine cooed, scooting closer as Clémentine. It sagged its arms over Perrine’s shoulders, sniffling.
“She must’ve been a nice mother if you still miss her, no?” Perrine tried not to bring any attention to Clemm’s tears, even as they kept rolling.
“I’m not even sure. I don’t know why I miss her,” Clémentine’s voice kept cracking, fingers digging into Perrine’s feathery collar.
“Did you dream about her?” Clémentine nodded, its cheeks red with embarrassment. Perrine scoffed in an attempt to look unbothered as they wiped Clémmie’s tears. “I figured, you looked bothered this morning,” Clémentine whimpered, pushing away from Perrine. “Hey it’s okay, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,”
“I did,” it pulled up its mask to hide its face. “I dreamt I laid in her lap and that she was brushing my hair,” Clémentine’s voice couldn’t handle the memory of its dream, it began sobbing into its sleeves as Perrine rubbed its back to comfort it. Perrine sat next to Clémentine, dumbfounded for a while as the sounds of the field were drowned out by Clémmie’s soft sobs and hiccups. “When I woke up,” Clémentine finally rasped as the kettle near them began to hiss, “It was Cole who was brushing my hair and I couldn’t help it. I felt so sad and angry , I got up and I said nothing. I’ve been too embarrassed to talk to them,”
“I should’ve known something was up when you offered to help me with the hunt,”
“Perrine I feel so awful. I didn’t even want chicken soup anymore, I don’t know what to do or think. I had half the mind to go back,” Perrine’s whole body jolted. They’d found Clémmie’s sleeping bag empty and thought nothing of it but now the idea that the bag would’ve forever remained empty made Perrine want to vomit. Clémentine would get lost in the woods, or coyotes would hunt it down, it could get kidnapped. Perrine sighed heavily, shivering slightly.
“Well let’s calm down first. We don’t want to do anything stupid, do we?” Perrine tried to steady their voice as they looked into its eyes. Clémentine shook its head, a soft gasp escaping it. Perrine moved Clémentine’s mask away, placing it on the grass. “Besides, this is your home. We’re your home,” Perrine held Clémentine’s hands and folded its hand with their’s. “Can I trust I will find you tomorrow sleeping in your tent?”
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” Clémentine whispered, wiping its tears with its shoulder.
“Don’t tell that to me, tell that to Cole,” Perrine softly smiled.
“Do you think they’ll ask?” Clémmie’s eyes were wide with worry.
“They won’t, but I still think you should explain yourself,” Clémentine then pressed its forehead against Perrine’s, startling them. Still Clémentine never blinked as it kept eye contact.
“Perrine? Do you ever miss your mom?” Perrine hoped it wouldn’t ask. Perrine wished to have that same ache in their chest. The same longing for home. To feel tethered somewhere on earth, yet they felt lost and lonely. Unloved. Unwanted. Wanting the touch of a mother or father, a loving touch. The ticklish scratch of a father’s beard as they kiss you, the tingling and warm feeling of a mother’s fingers brushing your hair. The warmth of sleeping between the two in bed on a chilly night. But all Perrine ever got was chilly nights. No warmth, no real love.
“Sometimes,” they lied, “but then I remember all the things I couldn’t do,”
“Was she nice?” Perrine couldn’t lie about everything. Especially about the compassion that their “parents” had. Compassion like scraps of rotten meat to hungry dogs. Perrine wouldn’t starve for attention any longer.
“Not really. To be clear; I dont miss my old life,”
“Not at all?” Clémentine sounded shocked. Perrine pulled away from their tender embrace and gestured behind them. Their camp.
“This is my bed, my home,” They gestured to their’s and Kingsley’s tent. “You’re all my family. Everything before this, it wasn’t home,”
“I just don’t understand why I still miss the past,” Clémentine looked at the ground. Perrine rested a heavy hand on its shoulder.
“Things will get better, the pain will go away eventually. This life is only going to get better,”
“Will you promise not to tell Cole?”
“That you cried? I think they can tell,” Perrine wiped the streaks on its cheeks, but it wouldn’t make the redness in its eyes go away.
“Oh dear,”
“Let Cole comfort you. They’ll understand, how could they not? You’re not ridiculous for missing your mother,” Clémentine practically lunged at Perrine, wrapping arms around them. It rested its head in the nook of their neck and sighed heavily. Perrine instinctively nuzzled against its curls and closed their eyes. Brushing their curls, Clémentine soft and timid voice now rumbled next to them.
“Thank you, Perrine,”