[Comm (RB)] Kinship (Knot and Finch)

In the aftermath of the “crow incident,” Finch and Knot were effectively grounded for the better part of a month. Dove and Pipit weren’t exactly happy to find them being heckled by a murder of crows, and Dove gave them both a very lengthy lecture about “knowing your strength” and “not getting into fights you can’t win.” Whatever. Finch was too busy being boiled alive by shame to really hear any of it. Her stupid idea had nearly gotten her killed. It nearly got Knot killed.

She hadn’t said anything about it. Dove seemed to blame both of them for getting themselves into trouble, not Finch in particular. Both of them had gone out and done it, so it didn’t matter who came up with it. She didn’t even ask whose idea it was.

But Finch knew, and Knot knew, and the fact that he never said anything buzzed like mosquitoes in her brain, always coming back no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. And it continued to buzz for weeks.

#

The pair grew considerably, growing quickly as their family kept them fed on all the bounties of springtime: young deer, fresh eggs, and warming weather. Soon they were big enough that crows flapped out of their path when they ran up to their parents’ kills, rather than impassively continuing with their stolen feast. Even though they weren’t grounded anymore, Finch made sure to stay near Dove and Pipit. The crows weren’t the problem, but her nagging guilt was. It just kept buzzing and buzzing.

She hadn’t spoken much to Knot, either. And Knot hadn’t really spoken to her, but he was never talkative to begin with. Finch was sure that he was still upset with her over the crow incident. She’d been the one that ended up revealing their hiding spot to the crows, and he was the one that had to jump in and save her. And if Dove hadn’t rescued them, they would’ve been dead meat. How could either of them just let that go?

A shudder swept down her spine as she looked up at the moonless sky. She was antsy again, like she was when she was left alone with Knot. Only this time, she knew for certain she didn’t want him to come with her. She took a glance back at the rest of her family—all deeply in sleep, Knot included. Oh, Knot. She couldn’t bear the idea of putting him in danger again.

Steeling herself, Finch rose to her feet, and as quietly as she could with her heart hammering in her ears, moved the to trees at the edge of the clearing. On she walked and walked, until she couldn’t see her family through the trees anymore. And then she ran.

She had no sense of where she was going, but she didn’t care. The only thing on her mind was Knot, and making sure he wouldn’t go after her again and run afoul of something even worse than an angry crow.

But just like last time, things didn’t go as planned. As her lungs burned from exertion, she missed the sound of another dinosaur stomping through the undergrowth. With a few focused strides, Knot caught up to her and jumped in her way, sending her to a skidding halt that barely avoided a collision.

“Finch! What’s gotten into you?” Knot asked, features drawn in a confusing mix of worry and frustration.

“Like you don’t know!” Finch snapped between pants. How long had she been running? All the trees looked the same and her legs prickled like they were crawling with beetles.

“No, I don’t! Because you haven’t told me! You’ve barely said a word to me!”

“Why would I want to when I already know you’re mad at me?”

“Mad at you? For what?” He had the audacity to look surprised.

“For ruining everything, you dummy!”

“What are you-”

“I had my stupid idea about hunting for birds and we nearly died! You nearly died, Knot! All because of me!”

Her words echoed against the trees, the only sound in the dark, silent night. It hung between them like the delicate strands of a spiderweb, and neither wanted to risk breaking it.

In the end, it was Knot who did. “I’m not mad at you, Finch,” he said softly.

“Yes you are.”

“Well, now you’re just not listening to me.” He rolled his eyes, all the gentleness in his voice gone. “Just think for a second. Why would I be mad at you for something I did? Maybe it was your idea to go out, but it was my decision to come with you.”

“But why? Why did you do any of that, throwing yourself into danger because of my stupid ideas?”

“Because if I hadn’t, you would have gone all alone. And if something happened to you, then…” He worried the dirt with a clawed foot. “I’d be as mad at myself as you think I am at you.”

Finch’s tail dropped to the ground, and it took everything in her to stay standing straight. Knot was right; she hadn’t been listening to him at all. She never even asked.

“I couldn't just let you go out alone,” he said, taking slow steps toward her, like she was an easily-startled deer. “We’re family.”

Whimpering like a hatchling, Finch closed the gap between them and tucked her muzzle in the crook of his neck. Knot, her cousin. Her cousin that was a few inches taller than her (which was stupid, his mom was the shorter one), looked much more like his father than any of them, and who would follow her to the end of the world. She stood there for what was probably too long; just a moment ago she’d never wanted to see him again, and now she never wanted to let him go.

Knot rubbed their cheeks together one last time before stepping back. “Come on, let’s get back before they realize we’re both gone.”

Finch snorted, her melancholy buzz drifting away in the breeze. “Yeah. I don’t want to sit through another one of Mom’s lectures.”

“Like you were even listening to the last one!”

But Finch had already started running, laughing as she went, her cousin close on her heels.