unkind company, kinder companionship

The cold air was frozen in crystalline silence. It was always cold in the Heavenly Embassy, so far from the ground below— but it was particularly pronounced today. Sable was hesitant to even walk, hyper-aware of her hooves echoing down the quiet street. The sound seemed eager to shatter the quiet air and dance upon its fragments; she tried to muffle them with slower footsteps, though without much success. Churro, however, seemed entirely unbothered. He waddled at her side, harness swinging to and fro without care for how it jangled. 

Not for the first time, Sable found herself a little jealous of her service imp. But then Churro noticed she was watching him and started his happy wiggles, and Sable couldn’t stop her heart from melting. “You absolute dork,” she mumbled. Churro didn’t reply— though he wiggled a little faster.

The Embassy’s beautiful, pristine streets and white marble buildings became more familiar every time she visited, and Sable had been visiting more and more often lately. Primrose seemed happy to ‘ask’ her to help him in the gardens whenever he pleased, and Sable couldn’t exactly refuse. Walking out of her cottage had, at least, become routine enough that she didn’t freeze up anymore. Still… she wished she could be home, and work on her own garden instead. 

…Some parts of it weren’t so bad, though. The thought crossed her mind as she walked into Paradise Cafe and saw Beanny’s face light up. “Sable, hey! How’re you doing today?”

Sable’s face felt warm, but she approached the counter, smiling back at Beanny. “Um, pretty good! Y’know, kind of the same as usual… how are you?”

“Doin’ pretty well honestly, been a pretty busy couple of days. Speaking of the usual— you want your usual, yeah?”

“Yes please!!”

“You got it~” 

Sable tried not to think too much about how she had a usual at this place now. Or about Beanny winking at her. Quite frankly this place was altogether a cognito hazard, but… Sable liked stopping by here whenever she was in the Embassy. It helped her feel normal. Sable wet her lips, and did a little dance in her head when she spoke and her voice didn’t crack. “Um, any cool new coffee brews as of late?”

As of late, demons below, was she a historical fiction protagonist? What was wrong with her—

“A few promising ones, yeah! The one I’m personally excited about involves a moka pot and a blend of herbs from the garden here. Not exactly sure how well herbs will mix with coffee, but! That’s what experimentation is for.”

Sable’s throat stopped trying to strangle itself, and she smiled again, leaning very casually against the counter. “Sounds tasty? I hope it’s tasty, I mean. I think you’ll do a great job.”

“Aw, thank you,” Beanny chirped, and handed Sable her usual mocha and blueberry muffin. “Here ya go! Your very own energy boost for putting up with Prim’s bullshit.”

Sable snorted, barely muffling it with her palm. “Beanny, that’s awful!!”

“You didn’t say I was wrong though.”

“I am now, that’s awful.”

Beanny laughed, and Sable watched her, awestruck and envious of the sound— so confident, so willing to take up space. 

“…Thank you Beanny,” she said after finding where her voice fled to. It emerged quieter than before, but the warmth there was enough for her to blush. 

“Thank you for showin’ up. You should stay longer next time.”

“I’ll try,” Sable promised, surprising herself when she meant it. With another smile at Beanny, she walked out the door, Churro at her heels. 

Sable looped his harness around her wrist, and fished the muffin out of the bag. “Okay bud, next stop, the gardens,” she said around the first mouthful. Churro looked confused, but she didn’t elaborate.

Demons, Beanny’s food was so good. Sable always asked for the same thing— having only rehearsed one order— but still. The two things she’d tried so far were really tasty. 

The taste of sweet blueberry on her tongue kept her company for the short walk to the Garden of Virtues. Soon enough, the stained glass walls loomed ahead, depicting images Sable could only imagine the meaning of. Perhaps they were Melangel’s teachings, perhaps they told the journey of cherubuns to Burrowgatory; it was abstract in the purposeful way artists used to invite discussion. Sable wasn’t inclined to accept that invitation. 

“Um, Primrose? I’m here?” Sable said as she opened the door, lingering in its frame.

Primrose stood from where he knelt in the flowerbeds and dusted himself off. “Do come in, Sable. And close the door, you’re letting out the warmth.”

“Ah— right, I’m sorry Primrose,” Sable said, rushing to close it behind herself. She saw him roll his eyes, but didn’t call him out on it.

“It doesn't matter. Thank you for coming; I needed someone to run an errand for me.”

Sable chewed the inside of her cheek. “Um… an errand..?”

“Indeed. You know Dove, don’t you? They live with that delinquent succubun, Jackal.”

“I… I mean, I know of them—”

“Perfect, deliver these tea leaves to them,” Primrose said, coldly refined as ever. He walked over to a table pressed against the wall, and pulled out a small white box. A post-it note on the lid said To Dove in Primrose’s neat, curling handwriting.

“Oh, um, I can do that! Though I don’t know th—”

“The address is written on the back of the note. It’s in Burrowgatory.”

“Ah, well… thank you for thinking ahead…” Sable said, voice faltering, shaken from the constant interruptions. She took the box when he offered it to her, and held it gingerly between her hands.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” replied Primrose with a smile. “There is always more to do here in the Embassy, and I don’t enjoy going down there. Help is always welcomed.”

“Right,” Sable said with a deep breath. Primrose inclined his head to her, and turned back to the garden. She took this as her cue to leave, and she did so in a rush, holding the box to her chest. Her heart pounded against it, lungs so tight they threatened to freeze entirely.

Churro let out a few arfs, and when he nudged her legs, Sable’s stiffened limbs obeyed. He herded her to a nearby bench, which she sank onto as her knees turned to jelly. Sable stared at the grassy clouds beneath her hooves, and began counting her breaths on reflex rather than consciously.

Breathe in for four seconds.

Hold for four seconds.

Breathe out for seven seconds.

The mantra repeated in Sable’s head on repeat, the record interrupted by the occasional hiccupped breath. Her fingers and hooves had gone tingly at some point, and she flexed them one by one. She wiped her face, and wondered when she’d started crying.

Churro’s barks drew Sable’s attention to her purse. He was nudging the side pocket her water bottle was in, and Sable fumbled for it, almost dropping it before she got it open. She took a few slow sips, and smiled weakly down at him. “Thanks buddy,” she rasped, and he did a happy wiggle.

Sable let her mind wander as she sat on that bench. It went nowhere in particular, thoughts both anxious and calm clamoring for her attention. She acknowledged them, and let them pass, until she felt calm enough to stand again.

“Thank the demons there isn’t a time limit,” Sable mumbled to Churro, who waddled at her side.

The trip back down was a quiet one, thankfully. When Sable’s hooves touched the familiar earth of Burrowgatory, she looked at the address on the note. It wasn’t too far from the Embassy… she could drop off the tea leaves then head home for a cup of her own.

Sable began weaving through the streets of Burrowgatory, entering the address on StroodleMaps so she wouldn’t get lost. The movement helped ease the anxiety lingering in the corners of her ribcage, and Churro seemed to be enjoying himself. After about 20 minutes of walking, a cheerful voice chimed in her earbuds— “Your destination is on your right. Your route guidance is now finished!”

“Thanks Stroodle,” Sable mumbled, sliding her earbuds back into their charging case. She squinted at the building, then at the note— it was a ground floor address, thank the demons. Sable tightened her fingers around Churro’s harness, and walked up to the door with a confidence she didn’t feel. She rang the doorbell, and waited. 

A muffled voice came through the door that Sable couldn’t quite understand, before it creaked open to reveal a tall, broad-shouldered envy bun. Long black hair streaked with green that partially covered one eye, spikes on her ears, on her bracelets— dark green-teal antlers that branched outward…

Oh sweet demons she has abs. Oh no.

“Can I help you?” asked the tall woman, eyes narrowed, lips curled on the edge of a scowl. Sable assumed she was Jackal; she’d heard somewhere her and Dove were living together. 

“Uh- um,” Sable said, voice dying halfway out her throat. She swallowed, and wet her lips, holding the box tightly. “I— I have a package from a cherubun. Primrose. It’s for, um, Dove..? The address said they live here?”

“Oh cool. Hey angel, your leaves’re here!” Jackal called over her shoulder, going from tense and suspicious to entirely at ease in seconds. Sable blinked a few times, but before she could think any further, another voice called from in the apartment.

“Oh wonderful!! Just finished baking, let them come in!” the voice sing-songed. Oh, what a lovely melody…

“Well,” Jackal said as she stepped aside. She gestured with her head to the room behind her, eyes once more on Sable. “You heard them. C’mon.”

“Yes, right! Sorry!” Sable squeaked, a little out of breath as she rushed inside. Jackal closed the door behind them, and Sable swallowed hard. This wasn’t part of the plan but— what else could she do??

 The apartment itself was… lovely, if Sable was being honest. It was messy in the way a home always was, cozy in the way a home didn’t always manage. There were doilies on the coffee table and couches, and Sable had to assume they were from Dove. They didn’t seem Jackal’s style.

Jackal brushed past her and around the corner, presumably into the kitchen. Sable’s heart jumped, and she scrambled to follow her. A white-haired, petite cherubun was in the kitchen, singing quietly to themselves as they piped icing onto a small army of cupcakes. They looked up when they came in, and their face lit up. “Oh, hi there! I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Dove.”

“I’m— well, I’m Sable, it’s nice to meet you,” Sable said, smiling back. Her face felt stiff, and she shifted on her hooves, uncertain what to do with herself. Dove was wearing an apron that said ‘kiss the cook’, and her mind was taking that idea and running with it. Running very far away with it.

Jackal leaned her hip against the counter, and grunted, “Name’s Jackal. Don’t think I introduced myself. You brought the tea leaves for Dove, yeah?”

Sable nodded, then nodded again, then winced a little because who nods twice in a row— “Ah, um, yes! Yes I did, they’re from the Heavenly Embassy, Primrose wanted me to deliver them?”

Dove smiled at her, and Sable felt a warmth in her chest. The tension she always seemed to hold in her shoulders eased just a little, and she wondered if Dove somehow had magic. “Thank you very much, Sable! Tea is my favorite, but it doesn’t grow well in Burrowgatory’s soil.”

They wiped a hand on their apron, and held it out to Sable, who shook it. Her face went red-hot when she realized her mistake, and pressed the box into their hand instead. “Sorry, um, I wasn’t thinking, I just—”

“Hey no worries,” Jackal said with a crooked grin, “Happens to the best of us.”

“Thank you again for the tea,” Dove added, and was about to put it away before they paused, cocking their head. “I… don’t suppose you’d like to stay and enjoy it with us? We can have these cupcakes with it, it’ll be fun!”

Sable’s tongue was made of lead, but before she could respond, Jackal added, “I dunno if we can eat all these cupcakes ourselves anyway… you could help us out with that?”

“Sure,” Sable said without thinking, heart in her throat and stomach twisting. Dove all but beamed with delight, and went to put on the kettle. 

Jackal smiled, the expression crooked and far too charming for Sable’s future cardiac health. “Cool. You want anything while we wait for angel to finish that?”

“Um! No, thank you. I think I’m good, thank you.”

She snorted, and slung an arm around Sable’s shoulders, herding her back into the living room. The clunks of her boots on the floor was a nice beat for Sable’s soul to ascend to. 

“Sit anywhere you want,” Jackal drawled, and sprawled onto the nearest well-worn couch, arms draped over the back of it. Realizing she was staring a little, Sable instead stared at the floor as she went and perched on the couch close to her. But not too close, hopefully, though Jackal’s hand was warm and right there behind her on the back of the couch and it was going to drive her insane—

Sable jerked forward to undo Churro’s harness, patting his head before she pulled away. “Sorry that took me so long buddy,” she mumbled. “Didn’t expect to be staying here.”

“They’re cute,” said Jackal, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “What’s their name, by the way?”

“His name’s Churro,” Sable said, smiling when the imp in question waddled off to go sniff around the room. Before the exchange could continue, Dove emerged from the kitchen, holding an ornate tray laden with cupcakes and an equally ornate teapot. 

“Here we are— no, Jackal, I’ve got it,” Dove said cheerily, halting Jackal midway through getting up. They all but waltzed over to the coffee table, setting the tray down there before plopping down on Sable’s other side. 

Dove smoothed down their dress, and poured three cups of tea. “So Sable, what do you do for fun? I’ve been wondering if you like gardening, since you’re helping Primrose.”

“Oh, um, yes! I adore gardening, I have one back at home, it’s— not as impressive as the Garden of Virtues though,” Sable said, cradling her teacup when Dove passed it to her. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Of course! Tea is better with friends,” Dove replied. They blew on their own cup, tracing the rim with a delicate finger. “That’s a high bar, though. I’d like to see your garden someday.”

“Oh! Um, certainly, that sounds… really nice actually,” Sable said, tongue tripping over itself. Dove smiled brightly at her, and asked something else about Sable’s garden. She was eager to reply, and Jackal seemed content to simply listen to them chat, sipping her tea. 

Sable felt… welcome here. She was in a strange place, among strangers— but she felt like they wanted her here. That feeling floated, buoyant and joyful in her chest throughout the tea party, and lingered there for hours after.