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Logan surfaces slowly, the way he does now. Sleep reluctant to let him go, carding syrupy fingers through his subconscious. A sleepy grumble rumbled in his chest as he forced his eyes open. The nights where he’d slash awake, roaring at threats and pain that weren’t there anymore, had been left behind almost entirely. The nightmares, his blood-soaked memories, were few and far between these days. He slept through the night more often than not now.
He shrugs on a flannel and goes outside. It was early, the sky only beginning to fade into its pre-dawn murky grey. Logan looks out over his cozy little meadow, the sheep not yet stirring where they were tucked away in the barn.
Taking a deep, savouring breath, he let his eyes fall shut. The familiar scents of his life now rising around him in a haze of comfort. Grass and dirt and growing things, their smells rich and prominent from the rain the night before. The coffee brewing inside. Wet wood that would dry under the morning sun. His animals and their wool.
Logan sat down on the stoop, waiting.
Sebastian was a dark smudge on the outcropping of rock he liked to keep watch from. It didn’t take long for him to shake off his sleep and begin his daily trek over to the trailer. It was a routine they’d held ever since Logan first took him home. Sebastian was a solitary creature, but he liked his quiet mornings with Logan where they stayed together in stoic company before the rest of the flock woke up.
Sebastian liked his privacy so Logan made sure to keep their early mornings to himself, not sharing that detail with the rest of the flock. Even though he was pretty sure Lily already knew.
Logan reaches out a hand as Sebastian strides over to him. The ram butted his head up into his worn, calloused hand without a hint of fear. He circles Logan once before settling down beside him. They look out over the slowly brightening horizon. Logan’s hand slowly ran over Sebastian’s curved horns, feeling the nicks and scars left over from his brutal previous life.
He sometimes wonders if he should’ve killed those men, the ones running the fights, and the ones betting on them. He wonders in moments like these, with the ram pressed into his side, pretending not to love the scrub of his hand over his head, if he should hunt them all down. Slaughter every one of them.
Animal fights are barbaric, always have been. Logan had just been looking for a drink when he stumbled upon it. But when he saw that battered ram, in the prime of his life, lying injured on his side, he knew he couldn’t walk away. He was a fighter, a survivor, plain as day, but he was also an animal of peace who never should’ve been there. And Logan… Logan found that he wanted to give him that peace. He deserved a home as much as Logan did.
He deserved his rest as much as Logan did.
Logan had wanted to kill them all, then and there. But he’d looked at the blood matting Sebastian’s wool, the wounds on him, the years of abuse visible on his proud, bone breaking horns… And suddenly the only thing that mattered was him. Getting this scared, injured animal out of there.
The urge to track down the carnival and tear all of those men apart was strong some days. The rage, that special, righteous rage that burned in his chest when someone he cared about was hurt, ached for violence. Calling for blood. Making his claws itch to slice from his hands and seek vengeance.
But then he remembers the promise he whispered to Sebastian as he carefully picked him up and carried him away from that pit of bloodshed, “No more fighting. No more pain. You’ve had enough of that now… No more death.”
Looking back, Logan isn’t sure if he was talking to the ram or himself. But they’d both had enough of the violence. Logan has been fighting for over two hundred years, and he was finally done. He was old and tired and had done enough of good causes and bad things in his long life to warrant a break.
He could admit it was time for him to rest. To heal. Seek peace in a quiet countryside, with a quiet job, and wonderful companions.
He didn’t know if he’s ever felt this simply happy in his life. His bones ached and the people in town were nearly unbearable and it was almost always raining, but he was happy. He took care of his flock and read his books and woke up rested. His claws were just a part of him again, not tools of carnage and war.
If someone had told him a decade ago that he would be retired in a sedate countryside working as a shepherd, Logan would’ve laughed in their face.
The flock in the barn began to baa their good mornings and Sebastian stood, wandering away as their morning ritual came to a close. Logan stood to get dressed for the day.
Now, he couldn’t imagine anywhere he’d rather be.