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#also in regards to the wrestling thing ingo asked gaeric if they could do that instead of his fucked up workouts
randomwriteronline · 1 year
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It’s no secret that Warden Gaeric is not keen on outsiders.
Communities as sheltered as the Hisuian clans tend to produce two types of people, after all - those who long for openings on the world, suffocated by monotony, and those who want nothing but to preserve the frail jewel of their heritage by hiding it from outside threats. Gaeric belongs to the latter, or at the very least has been taught to think as such: he can see the improvements contact between people can bring, but he fears the sound of the vastness he doesn’t know might drown out the voice of his native dialect.
Nobody batted an eye when he did not trust the Freak Of The Mountain when he was first brought to the settlement.
It’s also no secret that Warden Gaeric broadened his shoulders and chest so that it could better hold his heart, and no surprise at all that he did not hesitate to jump into the ice cave where the Alpha Froslass had near frozen the poor thing to death for her Snorunts to feed upon, his Glalie almost snapping her in half with his jaws as he rushed the delirious man to his home.
By the time the Freak was all warmed up, full of Aspear berries, and no longer at risk of losing his life, the warden had given himself no choice but to grow fond of him. Maybe in part helped by how the foreigner had curled around him in his fever, calling out for his uncle almost in tears.
Gaeric had even insisted he be allowed to keep his old clothes once he was welcomed as part of the Clan; although he too had been piqued by the man’s stubborn opposition at the request of getting rid of them, he understood the comfort they could bring him as mementos - reminders of a place, a home, somewhere and someone to belong in even when the memory of it all failed to reach him, like the unsteady whistling of a melody from childhood.
It’s no secret that Ingo - Warden Ingo, now - thinks very positively of Gaeric, too.
For saving his life, certainly, for understanding his melancholy - but for simpler reasons too, like being polite, and being quite the wrestling partner, and returning his greetings every time they meet. It sounds a bit silly that he would count something like that on almost the same grounds of nursing him back to health, but he is instistent that even such seemingly unimportant things are part of what he appreciates about the other warden.
Then again, he’s a loud, peculiar man; so it’s quite normal that he thinks in strange ways.
It’s not that well-known, however, that yesterday Gaeric pulled Ingo to the back of his hut by the hand, and pressed his lips to his cheek with a smile, muttering something sweet while holding his fingers. And it’s not that well-known that Ingo held his gaze down and buried his stoic face between his hat and the collar of his coat, as if he were as red as a Magby, and murmured something back.
And if somebody did see that (and if the two were to find out that they were seen they would be so very awfully embarassed) - well, they know whoever the wardens kiss is not their business, and they shouldn’t tell.
At least, not to Irida.
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