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When he slept, he dreamed of Sandy. Of her smile and her laugh. It was the only place he saw her anymore, so he longed to get back.
However, as the team broke up to mingle with the donors, someone let out an excited cry.
“Tillo Rane!”
He blinked, focusing back on the presence as a familiar, young face and purple baby crest ran into his field of vision. For a moment, he didn’t know why he knew this little boy.
But it all came back to him with a rush of pain.
This was the youngling from the arcade. The one that had asked for his handprint. Back when he still had Sandy. When he still had hope.
“Carler?”
The boy’s dark eyes lit up. “You remembered me!”
There were his parents, approaching him with cautious smiles. Less uncertain of him today than they had been back then. What were they doing here?
“We made a donation!” Carler announced, puffing out his little chest proudly.
“You did?”
“Yeah!” He beamed. “Monna says that these young don’t have as much as us, and it’s important that we share what we can with them. And then they said you’d be here, and I begged them to let me come! You’ve been playing so awesome! That game was amazing!”
The game?
Oh, right. Their last home game. He almost forgot about that. It seemed so long ago. But he promised to point to the boy’s section for his first goal. Had he done that?
Carler was eagerly talking. Explaining how excited he’d been to see Rane play in person. He even mentioned Rane pointing, so he must have. Though, that game was a blur, so he didn’t really remember doing so.
But Carler was so excited. Rane found himself smiling as he kneeled down so he could converse with the innocent boy face-to-face. All he wanted to talk about was the game. He had no demands of Rane. No threats. No unmet expectations. He was just happy.
“What happened to your crest?” He asked, cocking his head curiously.
“It’s just growing back,” Rane said, running his hand over the emerging pin feathers. They were hard and rigid and very unattractive, but he wasn’t really ashamed of them. Just sad.
“I know what pin feathers are,” Carler said with the exaggerated tone of a youngling mocking an adult. “I mean, why? It looked so cool before!”
Rane blinked, startled. “You… liked it?”
“Yeah! I asked dad if I could do it to, but he said no.” He made another face, like it was the greatest annoyance that his father would forbid him from making such an extreme change to his appearance at a young age.
But Rane was more surprised that he wanted to emulate him at all. “You really liked my crest?”
“Yeah!” Carler beamed, laughing. “Monna says I can do that style when I get older if I want.”
“Your monna is a nice lady,” Rane said.
“She’s the best. Not as awesome as you.”
Rane chuckled. “I bet your kappa would have something to say about that.”
The boy’s father chuckled as well, putting an arm around his mate, a loving look in his eyes. “She is the best in my eyes.”
Carler leaned forward to whisper, “Monna and kappa say that I’m getting a little brother soon. I’m going to show him all your games.”
Rane smiled. “You have to let me know when he’s here. I’ll dedicate a goal to him too.”
Carler gasped excitedly, looking back at his parents, who smiled at him indulgently. Rane stood, inclining his head to them both respectfully.
