HOME | DD

Description

It was midway through their second week in the forest when Broadway started to feel the strain of his work. The constant running back and forth between the battlefield and the infirmary was starting to take its toll on him; despite his fit frame, his legs ached from exertion and his fingers cramped from always being in motion. Days sometimes went before he found time to sleep and it left him feeling like his eyes were always drooping, burning with exhaustion. Most of the time, especially when the fighting was near constant, the most rest Broadway managed to get were a few catnaps in secluded corners of wherever their current hideout was. They never lasted long; most of the time it felt like he’d only just closed his eyes before some kind of emergency demanded his attention.

None of the patients or his fellow medics could know any of that, though. With Nova volunteering to house and work the main infirmary for their camp, his cooperation was implicit. He had, amid all the chaos and fear and confusion, become the de facto leader in the infirmary. At least regularly swapping out his partners in the field made hiding his exhaustion easier, though it was becoming more obvious by the day. Still, he had enough energy to put up the façade of a Kukuri that was calm and in control of the situation, which was always a good way to soothe the patients he attended to; they liked to know that the one in charge of healing them wasn’t panicking or, worse, falling asleep in the middle of apply a series of sutures.

Of all the Kukuri he had partnered with, Avens was the most frequent. She was a kind soul; not suited to a battlefield such as this. Oh, not to say she couldn’t fight. Broadway had seen her rear back on her tail and kick someone on the snout so hard she had knocked them out cold just a day ago. It had been an eye-opening experience, to say the least, and he certainly wasn’t going to underestimate her skills again.

No, he amended to himself, what he really meant was that she wasn’t exactly suited for the bloody, life-or-death all-out wars that were going on almost every hour of every day. It hadn’t been hard to see that she had an aversion to blood; that much he’d noticed on their very first day on the field together. Not only that, she just struck Broadway as someone who was much more suited to romping through fields and flowers, exploring and playing; she didn’t exactly fit the picture of ‘battle-weary medic with dead eyes who’s seen too much.’

Today was one of those days that they were working together. A lull in the battle left the camp eerily quiet despite it being midday. Even though the fighting had stopped, Broadway and Avens had their hands full caring for the wounded warriors and defenders that came to them while they had the chance. The sun was setting before they managed to finally take a break.

Avens sat quietly just outside the front door of Nova’s home. The bustle of the infirmary had become soothing the longer she’d been exposed to it. The bustle meant that things were going well; medics were moving and caring for others, patients were joking and laughing with ease now that things had calmed on the battlefield, and worried handlers darted between those of their loaf staying in the infirmary and those that were still out in the tents that made up the camp. Hearing all of this was always better than silence; the silence of the dead, that was.

The dove’s musings were cut short when Broadway dropped gracelessly to a seat beside her in a manner that surprised Avens. In all the time she had been running around with the velvet rook, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so… heavy, for lack of a better word. Broadway was always on his toes, walking with a grace that belied his size. As a dancer, he was always light on his feet and moved with a rhythm and a beat all in his head. He never put a foot out of place and yet, tonight, he had just essentially flopped to the ground, his shoulders sagging and his head drooping just enough to let Avens know that something was wrong.

“Broadway?” She asked.

“Hm?”

The response was immediate, but his voice was slightly slurred with exhaustion. He raised his head back up, correcting his posture, as he turned to her. The concerned and confused look on her face gave him pause; what was that look for.

“Something wrong?” He asked, eyes narrowed as he searched her face for a possible reason that she was looking so aggrieved.

Avens scrutinized her fellow medic, really taking him in now that they had a chance to sit down. All day they had been running wild, patching up other Kukuri and making sure everyone in the camp was accounted for and healthy, but not once had they managed to slow down and assess each other. The longer she looked, the more she kicked herself.

Broadway looked exhausted; his eyes were starting to grow bloodshot and his entire body just sagged with the weight of the last few weeks. Not only that, but he was practically covered with tiny, bandaged wounds, several of which were new from today’s early-morning scuffle; little scratches and bites the shroomies had inflicted whenever he raced out into the field to drag others to safety. How had she not noticed any of this before? When we the last time she saw him sleep?

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” She asked, deciding to start with the simplest question and work her way up.

In lieu of an answer, Broadway offered her a smile and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes and hide the exhaustion in his frame. It was too late to hide it from Avens, though. She had seen and now she couldn’t un-see just how much this was taking from him. Her mouth pulled down at the corners in a frown and her gaze hardened; she wanted a real answer.

Broadway sensed her resolve and his calm smile faltered slightly. After just a moment, the smile returned, this time slightly forced, as if it was only there to put Avens at ease; it seemed to only do the opposite and her concern rose.

“I’m fine, Avens.”

“That wasn’t the question I asked,” she retorted immediately, brow furrowed.

That false smile, such a cruel mimicry of Broadway’s usual expression, tugged at her heart. If she hadn’t already known he wasn’t feeling his best, this charade might have fooled her. How long had he been hiding this?

A familiar voice interrupted before she could continue drilling her fellow medic for the truth.

“Avens,” Hazel called.

The fluffy rook’s furry head poked around the side of the building; apparently he’d been looking for her.

Broadway let out a silent, relieved sigh; Hazel didn’t like it when he and Avens were alone together. At best, Broadway usually didn’t mind the other rook’s protective streak over Avens, even if it did sometimes interfere with the pearl kuku’s work. Today, however, Hazel’s need to keep Avens from getting too close to him was a godsend.

“You should go with Hazel and get some rest while you can,” he suggested, pushing himself heavily to his feet. His traitorous legs wobbled underneath him, but he refused to show weakness by leaning against anything or sitting back down. “I’ll be fine.”

Avens surged to her feet like she was electrocuted. There was no way he was getting out of this conversation that easily!

But Hazel unwittingly foiled her plans.

“Avens!” He called, smiling when he finally caught sight of his fellow loaf member. It was always worrisome when she was off on her medic duties; either he was worrying about Broadway not being close enough to protect her from the shroomies or he was worried about Broadway being too close to her. His smile dropped a fraction when he saw the other rook was here.

Still, Broadway was nothing but an honorable kuku and, despite his protectiveness, Hazel knew the velvet medic wouldn’t do anything untoward to the young dove. The knowledge didn’t stop him from worrying and fretting all the time.

“Avens,” he continued, tearing his eyes away from Broadway to look at the dove.

Somehow, the dove had managed to squeak through the last week and a half in the forest with almost no injuries; a seriously relief on his part. Today was no different, though she was looking a little worked up. She was probably tired, if he had to guess. All the medics had been running themselves into the ground today trying to play catch-up with all the injured Kukuri.

Hazel’s eyes ghosted over to where Broadway was standing. The medic looked a little tired, maybe a little banged up from the constant tiny wounds the shroomies inflicted on the field, but was otherwise alright. Hazel nodded to himself, silently pleased. Broadway was keeping Avens safe on the field and doing a bang-up job taking care of Kukuri in the infirmary. Broadway nodded back, apparently getting Hazel’s message of approval.

“Let’s go back to our tent,” Hazel suggested in a way that was not a suggestion at all, returning his gaze to Avens.

When Hazel put on that tone of voice, the ‘I’m the leader and I know what’s best’ voice, there was no arguing. Avens deflated slightly, knowing that she had little choice but to join him. As Hazel retreated back the way he came with Avens at his tail, the dove looked back to get one last scrutinizing gaze at Broadway, but the façade was already back in place. The exhaustion was masked. The only sign of his true condition was his tired eyes, but those still didn’t let on to the full extent of just how badly he was faring.

Broadway smiled at her one last time before retreating, himself. His break was over and there were more injuries to be tended to. Besides, if he kept himself busy, maybe he could ignore the nausea starting to roil in his belly. The tired rook rounded the corner of the building to where there were no desperate, pleading eyes on him and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. His lungs felt like they were constricting, limiting his oxygen intake until he was gasping for breath. After a few minutes, the discomfort faded, though it didn’t disappear entirely. His legs steadied beneath him. A deep breath filled his lungs and he let the air out slowly through his nose.

Okay. He was ready to get back to work. But ready or not, there was one thing that Broadway knew.

Something didn’t feel right.

Description

It was midway through their second week in the forest when Broadway started to feel the strain of his work. The constant running back and forth between the battlefield and the infirmary was starting to take its toll on him; despite his fit frame, his legs ached from exertion and his fingers cramped from always being in motion. Days sometimes went before he found time to sleep and it left him feeling like his eyes were always drooping, burning with exhaustion. Most of the time, especially when the fighting was near constant, the most rest Broadway managed to get were a few catnaps in secluded corners of wherever their current hideout was. They never lasted long; most of the time it felt like he’d only just closed his eyes before some kind of emergency demanded his attention.

None of the patients or his fellow medics could know any of that, though. With Nova volunteering to house and work the main infirmary for their camp, his cooperation was implicit. He had, amid all the chaos and fear and confusion, become the de facto leader in the infirmary. At least regularly swapping out his partners in the field made hiding his exhaustion easier, though it was becoming more obvious by the day. Still, he had enough energy to put up the façade of a Kukuri that was calm and in control of the situation, which was always a good way to soothe the patients he attended to; they liked to know that the one in charge of healing them wasn’t panicking or, worse, falling asleep in the middle of apply a series of sutures.

Of all the Kukuri he had partnered with, Avens was the most frequent. She was a kind soul; not suited to a battlefield such as this. Oh, not to say she couldn’t fight. Broadway had seen her rear back on her tail and kick someone on the snout so hard she had knocked them out cold just a day ago. It had been an eye-opening experience, to say the least, and he certainly wasn’t going to underestimate her skills again.

No, he amended to himself, what he really meant was that she wasn’t exactly suited for the bloody, life-or-death all-out wars that were going on almost every hour of every day. It hadn’t been hard to see that she had an aversion to blood; that much he’d noticed on their very first day on the field together. Not only that, she just struck Broadway as someone who was much more suited to romping through fields and flowers, exploring and playing; she didn’t exactly fit the picture of ‘battle-weary medic with dead eyes who’s seen too much.’

Today was one of those days that they were working together. A lull in the battle left the camp eerily quiet despite it being midday. Even though the fighting had stopped, Broadway and Avens had their hands full caring for the wounded warriors and defenders that came to them while they had the chance. The sun was setting before they managed to finally take a break.

Avens sat quietly just outside the front door of Nova’s home. The bustle of the infirmary had become soothing the longer she’d been exposed to it. The bustle meant that things were going well; medics were moving and caring for others, patients were joking and laughing with ease now that things had calmed on the battlefield, and worried handlers darted between those of their loaf staying in the infirmary and those that were still out in the tents that made up the camp. Hearing all of this was always better than silence; the silence of the dead, that was.

The dove’s musings were cut short when Broadway dropped gracelessly to a seat beside her in a manner that surprised Avens. In all the time she had been running around with the velvet rook, she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him so… heavy, for lack of a better word. Broadway was always on his toes, walking with a grace that belied his size. As a dancer, he was always light on his feet and moved with a rhythm and a beat all in his head. He never put a foot out of place and yet, tonight, he had just essentially flopped to the ground, his shoulders sagging and his head drooping just enough to let Avens know that something was wrong.

“Broadway?” She asked.

“Hm?”

The response was immediate, but his voice was slightly slurred with exhaustion. He raised his head back up, correcting his posture, as he turned to her. The concerned and confused look on her face gave him pause; what was that look for.

“Something wrong?” He asked, eyes narrowed as he searched her face for a possible reason that she was looking so aggrieved.

Avens scrutinized her fellow medic, really taking him in now that they had a chance to sit down. All day they had been running wild, patching up other Kukuri and making sure everyone in the camp was accounted for and healthy, but not once had they managed to slow down and assess each other. The longer she looked, the more she kicked herself.

Broadway looked exhausted; his eyes were starting to grow bloodshot and his entire body just sagged with the weight of the last few weeks. Not only that, but he was practically covered with tiny, bandaged wounds, several of which were new from today’s early-morning scuffle; little scratches and bites the shroomies had inflicted whenever he raced out into the field to drag others to safety. How had she not noticed any of this before? When we the last time she saw him sleep?

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?” She asked, deciding to start with the simplest question and work her way up.

In lieu of an answer, Broadway offered her a smile and tried to blink the sleep from his eyes and hide the exhaustion in his frame. It was too late to hide it from Avens, though. She had seen and now she couldn’t un-see just how much this was taking from him. Her mouth pulled down at the corners in a frown and her gaze hardened; she wanted a real answer.

Broadway sensed her resolve and his calm smile faltered slightly. After just a moment, the smile returned, this time slightly forced, as if it was only there to put Avens at ease; it seemed to only do the opposite and her concern rose.

“I’m fine, Avens.”

“That wasn’t the question I asked,” she retorted immediately, brow furrowed.

That false smile, such a cruel mimicry of Broadway’s usual expression, tugged at her heart. If she hadn’t already known he wasn’t feeling his best, this charade might have fooled her. How long had he been hiding this?

A familiar voice interrupted before she could continue drilling her fellow medic for the truth.

“Avens,” Hazel called.

The fluffy rook’s furry head poked around the side of the building; apparently he’d been looking for her.

Broadway let out a silent, relieved sigh; Hazel didn’t like it when he and Avens were alone together. At best, Broadway usually didn’t mind the other rook’s protective streak over Avens, even if it did sometimes interfere with the pearl kuku’s work. Today, however, Hazel’s need to keep Avens from getting too close to him was a godsend.

“You should go with Hazel and get some rest while you can,” he suggested, pushing himself heavily to his feet. His traitorous legs wobbled underneath him, but he refused to show weakness by leaning against anything or sitting back down. “I’ll be fine.”

Avens surged to her feet like she was electrocuted. There was no way he was getting out of this conversation that easily!

But Hazel unwittingly foiled her plans.

“Avens!” He called, smiling when he finally caught sight of his fellow loaf member. It was always worrisome when she was off on her medic duties; either he was worrying about Broadway not being close enough to protect her from the shroomies or he was worried about Broadway being too close to her. His smile dropped a fraction when he saw the other rook was here.

Still, Broadway was nothing but an honorable kuku and, despite his protectiveness, Hazel knew the velvet medic wouldn’t do anything untoward to the young dove. The knowledge didn’t stop him from worrying and fretting all the time.

“Avens,” he continued, tearing his eyes away from Broadway to look at the dove.

Somehow, the dove had managed to squeak through the last week and a half in the forest with almost no injuries; a seriously relief on his part. Today was no different, though she was looking a little worked up. She was probably tired, if he had to guess. All the medics had been running themselves into the ground today trying to play catch-up with all the injured Kukuri.

Hazel’s eyes ghosted over to where Broadway was standing. The medic looked a little tired, maybe a little banged up from the constant tiny wounds the shroomies inflicted on the field, but was otherwise alright. Hazel nodded to himself, silently pleased. Broadway was keeping Avens safe on the field and doing a bang-up job taking care of Kukuri in the infirmary. Broadway nodded back, apparently getting Hazel’s message of approval.

“Let’s go back to our tent,” Hazel suggested in a way that was not a suggestion at all, returning his gaze to Avens.

When Hazel put on that tone of voice, the ‘I’m the leader and I know what’s best’ voice, there was no arguing. Avens deflated slightly, knowing that she had little choice but to join him. As Hazel retreated back the way he came with Avens at his tail, the dove looked back to get one last scrutinizing gaze at Broadway, but the façade was already back in place. The exhaustion was masked. The only sign of his true condition was his tired eyes, but those still didn’t let on to the full extent of just how badly he was faring.

Broadway smiled at her one last time before retreating, himself. His break was over and there were more injuries to be tended to. Besides, if he kept himself busy, maybe he could ignore the nausea starting to roil in his belly. The tired rook rounded the corner of the building to where there were no desperate, pleading eyes on him and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. His lungs felt like they were constricting, limiting his oxygen intake until he was gasping for breath. After a few minutes, the discomfort faded, though it didn’t disappear entirely. His legs steadied beneath him. A deep breath filled his lungs and he let the air out slowly through his nose.

Okay. He was ready to get back to work. But ready or not, there was one thing that Broadway knew.

Something didn’t feel right.