The hybrid was as still as stone, save for the torrent of tears running from their eyes. It was the only thing that moved, a trail of continuous, slow-moving water flowing down their cheeks. Within they were hollow, empty. Darkness and depression seemed to crush their insides, pounding it into nothing, into dust, and the dust into nothing. Cloudberry was in the clutches of their mother and there was nothing they could do about it.

They were so alone. The family hated them, but they couldn't leave. Mama would kill them and Cloudberry, they wanted to watch over Cloudberry. They had to find a way to tell them. They had to. But they couldn't. Not now, not ever. They were so alone.

There was a soft chattering but Huckleberry didn't react. They barely moved even as a number of strange looking creatures crossed their path. Apparently they were standing so still that they took no notice of them at all. They simply jumped past, their four ears wiggling curiously.

With their eyes, Huckleberry watched them. Where they a family maybe? Friends? But then there was a chirp and a couple of them broke off, another another direction, and one of them stopped. It was alone now and Huckleberry watched it. It was alone too.

The catsquirrel turned and seemed to see Huckleberry there. They froze and stared at them and Huckleberry stared back.

The two stared at each other - greater and lesser gembound eyes locked. Huckleberry was frozen from sadness, the catsquirrel frozen from fear. The seconds between them seemed to stretch out and Huckleberry watched the young thing, another tear rolling from their eye. They wanted a friend. Even if it was something as small as this. They wanted a companion too. A little friend of their own. Someone that wasn't part of the wretched, twisted family. An innocent soul, something pure and full of life. And Huckleberry wanted this catsquirrel to be their friend, however impossible it was. Lessers could not understand greaters. It was something that would never happen. But still, Huckleberry wished with all their heart.

As Huckleberry's desire burned, it seemed to manifest in the form of some kind of spell. A spell that twisted with the frustration and chaos inside and as it reached for the catsquirrel, it sparked and pierced the little creature's brain with a bolt of pure energy. There was a shriek and the lesser gembound fell to the ground, dead.

Finally, Huckleberry reacted. They leaped to their feet and moaned loudly, lunging forward to grab at the poor thing's body but it was far too late. The lesser creature's body was still and lifeless, its eyes wide with fear and its hair standing on end. Huckleberry saw, for the second time, the fragility of life and what it meant to end one, an innocent one. Of course, Huckleberry had killed lessers before, but that was for food. That was for sustenance. There was no excuse for this senseless murder.

There was chattering and Huckleberry looked up. There was another one, another catsquirrel. One of the ones that had left before. Perhaps it had come back to mourn its brother. Perhaps it had come back to see the commotion. Or maybe it had come back for vengeance. It wasn't exactly small, after all.

Huckleberry stared at it sadly. "I'm sorry," they whispered, voice shaking. "I'm sorry I killed your friend. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." And they kept repeating it over and over and over until it seemed to become magic itself. It pulled at their gem and reached towards the squirrel's. A small rainbow opal implanted in their chest. It was as if their life was flowing out of them, connecting with the smaller creature. The catsquirrel's eyes widened with surprise at the sensation and a glimmer of intelligence sparkled in the corner. And Huckleberry, who noticed none of this, certainly did notice the sudden feeling of connection with the creature. They could understand them somehow, not in words but in thoughts. And they could hear them whispering.

It's not your fault... Another tear dropped from Huckleberry's eye. "Yes it is. I killed them." The catsquirrel took another step closer. You didn't mean to. Come on, lets walk away from it. And, for some reason, Huckleberry obeyed. They rose from their place and followed the catsquirrel away from the corpse. But eventually, their guilt was so heavy that they collapsed and stared at the creature that they had connected with. It paused, sensing their stop, and turned to them. Huckleberry could feel its sympathy and felt its soft, warm fur brush against its cheek. They didn't understand any of this, but they felt such a connection, such a bonding with this creature and they turned on their side and gathered it close to them. They curled inwards, around the catsquirrel, feeling the smaller thing's warmth against their body. Their new friend pressed themselves into their chest as they wept and they sent thoughts of comfort, thoughts of love, thoughts of hope. And Huckleberry listened and drank them in as if they were the most real things in the world. And they were the first thing they truly believed.

*exit