Chapter 1
Ferocio feels Olive approaching. The very thought of him makes his teeth grit.
As Olive rounds the olive tree, Ferocio makes sure the first sight he sees is he, sinking his teeth in an olive pit.
Ferocio alone is not what he expected to see, but uninterrupted is his tranquility. Ferocio stares Olive deep in the green pit. Juices spill down his chin. The pit between his teeth he spits on Olive’s cheek: Ferocio’s smite, and kiss. Olive turns the other cheek.
A dare? He seeks?
Fine. Ferocio chews another olive and spits the substance on his skin. He does not wipe it or even flinch. Is he testing him? But like the moon, the same light is always showing, and like it too, the dark side is always hidden.
Eye to eye all Ferocio can see are craters and endless cowering, what is in front of him is peace and tranqility. He hates it. He loathes it. He wants it more than anything. He looks at him with wide eyes burning.
If only he could claw in, and reach it and grab it. But Olive id not stoic. Olive is… just Olive.
This egregious feeling is so strong Nery seethes in pain on the other end. Ferocio does not manifest the goodness in front of him. Just draws nearer the evil spirits he’s attracted. He cannot put a word to these emotions, though he feels the words jealousy, fear, and vindication.
“Stop putting words in my mouth.” He whispers into the air.
Olive didn’t hear nor care. He was never obtrusive, contrary to every word Ferocio feels so strongly.
What’s most disgusting is that Olive’s glad he is here.
Ferocio stares at the ground, but those eyes.
They are so good, and forgiving.
They are so strong. Suddenlt, he feels so weak, but Nery is raging on guitar, and he feeds off that rage.
Ferocio turns his cheek, one sore from gnashing, and leaves, parting various branches. They never seem to stop.
Olive, with pomace stuck to his cheek, washes it with water from the creek, and hopes Ferocio isn’t too cold.
