Egaran Stars - 54. Galen- A Romantic Evening

“I don’t know why we couldn’t just take a boat back,” Reinard pouted, hustling to keep up with Galen.

“We’re saving money, and I need to start walking more or I’ll start looking chubby. And while I love chubby tigers, I don’t really want to be one,” Galen said as they stepped onto a tall inclined bridge.

He could hear the Faro grumbling, and Galen slowed down, not wanting to leave Reinard behind. He’d never hear the end of that one.

The ocean rolled below them, waves rushing onto rocky beaches and sandy shores alike. Nearby, over the quiet sound of boats cutting through the water, the sounds of a panflute could be heard, Galen’s eyes picking out a white tiger on one of the beaches. He was surprised at how well the sound carried, but then he had never really been able to play that well himself. It had been his mitéras instrument before she passed, and his patéras had always mentioned how beautifully she had played, but whenever Galen tried, all he got from the pipes were ear-splitting squeaks.

“That’s beautiful…”

Reinard’s grumbled admittance as they crested the bridge pulled Galen from his thoughts, the tiger turning to look at his companion.

“Would you like to go listen? I didn’t have anything else planned for the evening.”

“My legs are getting sore.”

“That’s not a problem,” Galen said, stopping.

He knelt down and grabbed the Faro, pulling the startled fox onto his shoulders.

“Galen! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Carrying you,” the tiger said, as the fox’s legs clung desperately around his shoulders.

“Everyone is going to see inside my robes!”

“Nah, my big head is blocking everything. Just hold on.”

He could feel the roughness of Reinard’s underwear on his neck, and Galen smirked. No one was going to see anything, the fox was just scared to try something new. Galen would show him it was okay to be carried around occasionally. Besides, if they were going to be together for the rest of their lives, the tiger figured they should have some romantic evenings with each other. And an evening on the beach was certainly romantic.

His powerful legs carried them down the other side of the bridge in surprising swiftness, Reinard letting out a fearful gekker as he grasped Galen’s ears tightly. Their house was just two islands away, and they could see it standing tall on its cliff, but Galen directed his feet toward a small footpath off the side of the bridge instead, following the rocky path to its winding conclusion some forty feet below.

Reinard slowly fell silent as they reached the sandy beach, the Faro taking in the relaxing tune that weaved through the waves of the ocean, loud one moment, then lost the next, the effect almost ruining the strange song being played. Yet they listened on, Galen drawing ever closer to the flautist as his feet crunched through the sand. The other tiger smiled as he noticed them, the sound of his pipes changing to a lilting song of two lovers, and Galen let out a small chuckle. Reinard wouldn’t get the meaning, but the sound was still beautiful, a somewhat sharp noise that did cut over the waves as the tiger played his instrument.

“I’m ready to get down now,” Reinard said quietly, Galen kneeling to let the subdued fox off his neck.

He rolled his shoulders once they were free, loosening them after the weight that had been put upon them. Finding a large rock, Galen sat on it, Reinard, crawling up beside him. The two sat quietly, lost in the music, and Galen startled as the Faro’s hand grasped his.

The tiger smiled at his fox, adjusting himself to give Reinard a way to lean against him. The Faro frowned for a moment, but then moved until he was sitting in Galen’s lap, leaning comfortably into the tiger.

“What is this song?”

“A ballad between two tigers, one a fisher, the other a dancer. It’s an ancient tale put to music years ago. Normally there would be a drum keeping the beat.”

“But what is it about?” Reinard pressed as the music grew darker.

“Well, the fisher from Hephaestus was supposed to take over his mother’s boat when he reached a certain age, but he met a tigress during his first heat, and they fell in love with each other. He began taking her out to sea with him, and they enjoyed each other for a time. But eventually, her parents asked that she return home to help support her pappoús. When the fisher next put out to sea, his ship was hit by a storm, and sank. Naturally, the tigress was devastated, and she returned to the docks where his boat used to moor every night, hoping, praying that he might have survived.”

The music changed once more, the original lilting theme interspersed with an almost coy friendliness as Galen continued.

“One night, almost two months after the sinking, the tigress was greeted by another tigress in heat, and they pursued a night of passion together that took her mind off her lost love. He was gone, and she knew it this whole time, but he was not forgotten. She could keep his memory and still be happy with a new love.”

“That’s depressing,” Reinard frowned.

“It is, but it also reminds us not to tie ourselves so tightly that we forget to live. Romances are like a good meal. When you find a good taverna, you might be tempted to spend all your time there socializing and enjoying yourself. But if the taverna closes, you do not lose yourself in grief. No, you pay your respects and find a newer place to establish yourself.”

“Did… did you just compare us to food?” Reinard demanded.

“Yeah. You are a tasty little treat,” Galen grinned, poking the fox’s belly.

“Hey!”

The Faro laughed despite himself, his head shaking.

“Okay fine, I get it. If you want to go after Iason, do it. Just make sure you don’t forget me.”

“Oh, i alepoú mou agápi, I could never forget you,” Galen said, pressing his lips into the top of Reinard’s head. “And I appreciate the sentiment, but Iason and I wouldn’t really make for good lovers. The sex is amazing, but that’s all we really have between each other.”

“Galen, you’re starting to sound like an old tiger,” Reinard said, his ears flicking as the music ended. “Wait, do tigers ever stop having sex?”

“Well, eventually. Not until we’re nearly seventy though,” Galen shrugged as Reinard pulled out of his lap. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting sand in my fur. Is he done?”

The tiger let out a quiet sigh, standing up. He flashed a brief smile to the flautist before picking his fox up again. The moment had been nice, while it lasted.