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Description
I drew (and wrote a short story for) withered Setesh and Qebehsenuef for pride month last year , and -- seeing how much I adore the chemistry between these two -- I wanted to give things another go this year (and change the tone a little). Qeb's design got a huge rehaul back in March, and the slimmer look suits him much better than whatever the heck was going on before; Setesh's withered form is about the same, though I've gotten much better at drawing it and have messed with his proportions and colors quite a bit.

Setesh is mute in his withered form, and most of the gods find his appearance not only disgusting but also insulting to look at: withers like Setesh are partially-decayed undead, and rot is the antithesis to the Egyptian religious and funerary practice of mummification. As a result, he usually tries to hide away and curl up into a sad ball of anxiety whenever he falls into this form (the transformation is usually involuntary) -- he doesn't like others looking at him in this state, and it's not like he can really make conversation with anyone either.

Qebehsenuef isn't really like the other gods. He tracks poor Setesh down (repeatedly) in an effort to keep him company, and he reassures the wither that no, he doesn't think he's disgusting -- in fact, it's quite the opposite...

Enjoy!

__________________

Setesh's face felt like it was on fire.

At the moment, of course, he didn't really have much of a face... but he could still feel the heat of embarrassment and shame. He felt like a wretched wild animal as he huddled in the dark storeroom; the poor wither wanted nothing more than the floor to open and swallow him up so that he could hide forever and never be seen again. He was squished underneath one of the shelves, desperately and pitifully trying to hide from anyone and anything that might see him.

He had heard the door open, he had heard someone call his name, and he had heard the silence that followed.

And now, the accursed sound of footsteps met his ears. Every footfall was accompanied by the small tink of talons tapping against the stone floor...

Setesh knew who it was. It was Qebehsenuef, it had to be -- the falcon had seen the wither start to deteriorate. It wasn't something Setesh could have helped; his half-undead, half-alive body was incredibly unstable, and the slightest nudge could sent uncontrollably shifting back and forth between a living corpse and a normal, healthy-looking being. Now, though, he was trapped as the former: a mute, wretched, vile, decaying monstrosity.

An eyesore.

An abomination.

He didn't want anyone to see him like this, much less Qeb of all people...

Setesh wasn't quite sure why, but Qeb was the only one of his peers (that is, the other young gods still in training) that didn't treat him like an outcast. Maybe it was from Horus' encouragement -- Setesh's mentor always seemed to have the young half-breed's interests at heart.

Or maybe Qeb had been the only one Horus could talk sense into.

In any case, Qeb was the closest thing Setesh had to a friend -- if he could even really call him that much. It was... Something, alright. Qebehsenuef was a bit on the quiet side, and the two of them tended to blunder into and around each other rather than to speak freely or head-on. Setesh had even caught the young falcon staring at him more than once... But, awkwardness aside, Qeb at least seemed to be genuine, and he also seemed to understand the half-breed liked to be left alone.

Setesh didn't want to risk losing that one little glimmer of hope.

"Hey, uh... Setesh-? Are... Are you okay-?" Qeb's voice called; Setesh flinched, and he subconsciously curled in on himself. The falcon sounded like he was getting closer...

It wasn't like Setesh could have responded (even if he wanted to). His decayed state had ruined his throat -- nothing but a hoarse, bone-chilling wheeze could come from his dessicated vocal folds.

"I saw you were... You know," Qeb winced. "I thought that maybe... I-I should check on you."

In any other case, Setesh would have appreciated the sympathy. Not this time -- he couldn't live with the humiliation of being seen in such a sorry state.

A spear of anxiety pierced the wither's chest as he spotted Qeb rounding the corner; he could just see the falcon's taloned feet moving across the stones, though his hiding place prevented him from seeing anything above the young god's knees.

He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face, as if that would somehow save him. Some part of him must have been sticking out -- maybe an ear, or his tail, or his foot, or something. He would be seen, he would be shamed, he would be ridiculed.

The fire spread from his face to his whole body, and he felt like his heart was going to explode. Despite lacking functional lungs, he felt like he was suffocating. It was too much. He would lose everything, all because he couldn't keep himself together--

What came next wasn't quite the violent explosion Setesh was expecting. Instead, it was slow, soft, and gentle: he felt a hand brush against his forehead.

The wither's eyes (or lackthereof?) "blinked" open, and he peered through the cracks between his gaunt fingers. He saw Qeb bent over and looking down at him with a furrowed brow, like he was wincing.

"...Um... Hey," Qeb murmured, and he gave a weak smile like he was trying to be reassuring.

Oh, ye gods. Kill me now, Setesh lamented internally, and he shrank away from the falcon's touch. He wished he could turn invisible, or that he could cease to exist entirely.

Seeming to get the message, Qeb removed his hand from the wither's skull.

"You, uh, you okay-?" he asked.

Almost as soon as he'd said it, the falcon squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.

"Why did I say that?" he grumbled under his breath, and he shook his head. "That--That was a stupid question. I mean, you're obviously not okay, I mean... I-I should really stop talking."

Setesh stared at him.

You're almost as bad at this at I am, he remarked to himself, and he felt a small twinge of amusement at the falcon's botched attempt. Qeb was the spitting image of his father, Horus, but he certainly wasn't as eloquent of a speaker. Really, Qeb was just as awkward as Setesh was, and he seemed to mean no harm...

The burning shame seemed to ebb away inside Setesh's skin, and his anxiety lessened. Maybe... He could deal with this.

Maybe.

Qebehsenuef, meanwhile, sort of fiddled with his hands; after a pause, he awkwardly held one out towards Setesh.

It took the wither a few seconds of staring at the falcon's taloned hand before he realized that Qeb was offering to help him up.

With a wheeze, the gaunt beast squeeeeeezed out of his hiding place; he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to wedge himself into such a tight space to begin with, and it was a little painful contorting his body to get out of it. Once he'd gotten out from under the shelf, he halfheartedly placed his hand in Qeb's.

The wither's decayed paw was practically three times the size of Qeb's little talons. Setesh didn't even bother closing his fist -- he'd just end up pulling Qeb down with him.

Still, the young falcon certainly gave it a valiant effort: Qeb himself closed his fist and pulled with all his might. When he (obviously) failed to lift the huge rotten creature, Qeb even went as far as to try and grab Setesh's other arm and lift him up.

After a few awkward seconds of being pulled about, Setesh just sat up and righted himself.

Even in a sitting position, his twisted and gaunt body towered over Qeb. The wither expected the young god to shrink back in fear, but Qeb just gave an awkward little chuckle -- he looked up at Setesh with an embarassed, but genuine smile...

Qeb's entire suddenly seemed to shift: he averted his eyes shyly, and he started fiddling with the feathers on the back of his neck.

"S-Sorry. I guess I'm not much help, huh?" the young god murmured, stealing a glance back up at the wither's skull.

Setesh tilted his head, and his skull buzzed with confusion.

...Why are you looking at me like that? he wondered; if his brow had been intact, it surely would have furrowed. The falcon took notice of the animal-like head gesture, and he giggled -- the sound made Setesh recoil his head, and he felt a weird fluttering in his stomach.

Qeb was standing awfully close to him, and he was acting... Weird. Not like, bad weird, just... Strange. Or something.

Setesh wasn't really sure what to think of those few seconds of silence. His ears twitched and turned like radio antennae searching for a signal, but nothing was coming through.

"Oh, sorry, um-- I forgot you can't talk like this. Am I, er... Am I bothering you? I can go. I just wanted to see if I could help-- Or something like that," Qeb stuttered, finally meeting the wither's gaze again. Setesh could see that the falcon's face had changed color...

Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait-- No. Noooo. No, no, no-- There's no way, Setesh's thoughts vehemently denied, and he flattened his ears. He-- he had to be misinterpreting this. He was just... Confused. Mistaken. Stupid.

There was no way someone, anyone could... Like him. Not... Like that, anyway. Right?

The wither shook his head. He wasn't sure if he was responding negatively to himself or to Qeb's question, but it didn't matter -- Qebehsenuef gave a small sigh (of relief?) and another small chuckle.

It all made Setesh's stomach flutter again.

"G-Great! I mean, eheh..." the falcon fumbled, and he scrunched his head into his shoulders with a shy smile. "...How can I help?"

Setesh just stared at him.

I guess just being here is nice enough, he admitted to himself. The wither certainly wasn't going to complain about the way Qeb was looking at him -- the falcon didn't seem afraid, and... Well, whatever it was made Setesh feel a little better.

"Right, um, the talking thing... Okay, I'll ask 'yes' or 'no' questions. Does that help?" Qeb resumed, moving his fiddling hands behind his back. Setesh nodded in response; this earned a bright, endearing smile from the falcon, and the half-breed suddenly felt a little less wretched.

Don't be stupid, he warned himself. He's only acting this way because he's trying to cheer you up.

"Okay, so... Dad said you turned like this when you're upset, or sad, or mad, or something. Is that right?" the falcon asked right away. Setesh recoiled back at the bluntness of the question -- he couldn't tell if Qeb was serious or not. Did he seriously need to ask that?

The young god winced.

"Why did I say that-? Dumb question. Right," he grunted.

There was a small pause, and Qeb's eyes searched the stone floor like he had suddenly found the most interesting thing in the world; Setesh guessed the young god was trying to think of a more appropriate question.

"...You know, um, you don't have to hide, when you get like this, Setesh," the falcon tried. "I mean-- You know that, right?"

The wither tilted his head. What kind of question was that? Qeb obviously wanted him to say "yes," but Setesh was more inclined to say "no"! At least it wasn't as blunt as the last one...

He's trying, I guess.

Qeb seemed to realize that this question had stumped the wither, and he sighed in exasperation.

"This is harder than I thought," he admitted, and he began fiddling with the feathers on the back of his neck again.

You're telling me, Setesh thought to himself. At least you can talk.

The wither tried to scoff, or chuckle, or something, but his vocal folds couldn't manage it -- he just gave a dusty little wheeze. Qeb started a little at the sudden noise, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise; upon realizing it had been an attempt to emote, though, he just offered a sheepish and apologetic smile.

"...Let me try and start over. If that's okay?" the young god opted. Setesh snorted, rolled his eyes, and just nodded his head. They were going to be here all day at this rate.

"You really don't have to hide. This stuff just -- it's just what happens to you, sometimes, and you can't help it. No one should be judging you for it," Qeb insisted. The words were nice, but Setesh wondered if the falcon was just saying what he wanted to hear...

"I-I know my brothers can be kind of... Well, they can be mean to you about it, I guess," Qeb mumbled. His eyes remained trained on the floor, and he seemed to grow guilty. "But Dad doesn't mind. Neither does Mom," he added, and he at last raised his gaze up to meet Setesh's again.

"...Neither do I."

Well, obviously, Setesh supplied mentally. Otherwise, you wouldn't be standing here.

Even if Qeb was just being polite, Setesh appreciated hearing it all the same -- it was... Nice to hear. It was nice to be acknowledged. He would have smiled, if he'd had a face.

As he searched the falcon's eyes, Setesh felt that fluttering in his stomach again. It felt... Warm. Qeb was kind of cute, if Setesh was honest with himself.

"So yeah, you... You don't have to hide it. Just be you," the young god finished. It was a weak speech, but the message was still sincere.

The wither dipped his head to show he understood. He couldn't do much else, but he at least wanted to show he appreciated the kind words.

"...Actually, Setesh... I-If I can," Qeb started, shuffling his feet nervously. "...There's more I'd like to say."

He took a hesitant step towards Setesh, and the wither had to incline his head to look down at the young god. He didn't know how to feel about Qeb getting so close to him all of a sudden -- the fluttering sensation returned, and it didn't go away this time...

"I, uh... I r-really, really like this new look you have," the falcon admitted. Qeb's shy little smile caused that "fluttery feeling" to intensify. Setesh wondered if he was going to be sick.

Hesitantly, Qeb raised his hand, and he slowly brought it towards Setesh's skull...

The wither remained as still as a statue, and he stared at the god before him -- first at Qeb's face, then at his taloned hand. What was he doing-? He knew this wasn't aggression; it was something affectionate, but it was more than just "friendliness," too. Setesh wasn't sure how to respond. Should he respond? What was he supposed to do?

He felt the falcon's fingers trace his lower jaw, where his cheek should have been.

"It's... Cool. Yeah," Qeb chuckled nervously, and his feathered face flushed an even deeper color than before.

...What's happening-?? Setesh's thoughts screamed in confusion. All the wither could do was whine, seeing as he had no voice.

As Qebehsenuef removed his hand from the wither's skull, Setesh felt abysmally cold -- like all the warmth had left his body with the falcon's touch. He was half-tempted to lean forward and press his head into Qeb's hand again, but...

That would be weird. Bad weird. And he'd ruin the good that was in this moment.

Qeb cleared his throat, and he averted his eyes.

"I like it," he restated, though his smile faded just a little. Why-? Why was he retreating? Setesh didn't understand. Had he done something wrong?

"...Eheh, sorry. I'll, um, leave you alone now. I just-- Wanted to let you know," the falcon stuttered, shuffling his feet again.

What? What?? No, no, I don't want you to go, Setesh protested, and his throat wheezed. It was no use. The young god stepped away from the half-breed.

Setesh wished he wasn't withering -- he wanted to say something, to tell Qeb it was okay, that he wanted him to stay. He was too afraid to touch Qeb with his twisted hands, to try and pull him back -- he didn't want to freak him out, to scare him. And what if Setesh had gotten everything wrong? Qeb might never talk to him again...

"...When you're feeling better, um... I'll be here," Qebehsenuef resumed, flashing another polite smile. "I-I mean-- Not literally right here, but like... Around. I mean you can talk to me if you want, okay?" he rambled, eventually just throwing his hands up. "Just-- Let me know, alright?"

For once, Setesh was glad he didn't have a face: it made it easier to hide the overwhelming relief that washed over him. Qeb was leaving, but not forever. This wasn't the end -- Setesh hadn't ruined everything.

The wither nodded vigorously, and wished he could have smiled. Qebehsenuef snickered at this gesture, and Setesh's stomach fluttered again.

"I'll... See you later, okay?" the young god insisted, continuing to walk backwards and away from the half-breed. He backed all the way into another shelf and gave a tiny eep in surprise -- had he meant to do that? -- then sheepishly turned to leave.

Yeah, see you, Setesh wanted to respond. He found himself nodding again, even though Qeb had already looked away. Without so much as moving a muscle, he watched the falcon walk away; as soon as Qeb had gone, the wither sagged like a sack of potatoes. He felt so overwhelmed with new feelings -- he felt kind of sick, kind of anxious, kind of good.

...What just happened? he wondered hopelessly to himself, and he looked at the floor.

...He wanted to go after Qeb.

Description
I drew (and wrote a short story for) withered Setesh and Qebehsenuef for pride month last year , and -- seeing how much I adore the chemistry between these two -- I wanted to give things another go this year (and change the tone a little). Qeb's design got a huge rehaul back in March, and the slimmer look suits him much better than whatever the heck was going on before; Setesh's withered form is about the same, though I've gotten much better at drawing it and have messed with his proportions and colors quite a bit.

Setesh is mute in his withered form, and most of the gods find his appearance not only disgusting but also insulting to look at: withers like Setesh are partially-decayed undead, and rot is the antithesis to the Egyptian religious and funerary practice of mummification. As a result, he usually tries to hide away and curl up into a sad ball of anxiety whenever he falls into this form (the transformation is usually involuntary) -- he doesn't like others looking at him in this state, and it's not like he can really make conversation with anyone either.

Qebehsenuef isn't really like the other gods. He tracks poor Setesh down (repeatedly) in an effort to keep him company, and he reassures the wither that no, he doesn't think he's disgusting -- in fact, it's quite the opposite...

Enjoy!

__________________

Setesh's face felt like it was on fire.

At the moment, of course, he didn't really have much of a face... but he could still feel the heat of embarrassment and shame. He felt like a wretched wild animal as he huddled in the dark storeroom; the poor wither wanted nothing more than the floor to open and swallow him up so that he could hide forever and never be seen again. He was squished underneath one of the shelves, desperately and pitifully trying to hide from anyone and anything that might see him.

He had heard the door open, he had heard someone call his name, and he had heard the silence that followed.

And now, the accursed sound of footsteps met his ears. Every footfall was accompanied by the small tink of talons tapping against the stone floor...

Setesh knew who it was. It was Qebehsenuef, it had to be -- the falcon had seen the wither start to deteriorate. It wasn't something Setesh could have helped; his half-undead, half-alive body was incredibly unstable, and the slightest nudge could sent uncontrollably shifting back and forth between a living corpse and a normal, healthy-looking being. Now, though, he was trapped as the former: a mute, wretched, vile, decaying monstrosity.

An eyesore.

An abomination.

He didn't want anyone to see him like this, much less Qeb of all people...

Setesh wasn't quite sure why, but Qeb was the only one of his peers (that is, the other young gods still in training) that didn't treat him like an outcast. Maybe it was from Horus' encouragement -- Setesh's mentor always seemed to have the young half-breed's interests at heart.

Or maybe Qeb had been the only one Horus could talk sense into.

In any case, Qeb was the closest thing Setesh had to a friend -- if he could even really call him that much. It was... Something, alright. Qebehsenuef was a bit on the quiet side, and the two of them tended to blunder into and around each other rather than to speak freely or head-on. Setesh had even caught the young falcon staring at him more than once... But, awkwardness aside, Qeb at least seemed to be genuine, and he also seemed to understand the half-breed liked to be left alone.

Setesh didn't want to risk losing that one little glimmer of hope.

"Hey, uh... Setesh-? Are... Are you okay-?" Qeb's voice called; Setesh flinched, and he subconsciously curled in on himself. The falcon sounded like he was getting closer...

It wasn't like Setesh could have responded (even if he wanted to). His decayed state had ruined his throat -- nothing but a hoarse, bone-chilling wheeze could come from his dessicated vocal folds.

"I saw you were... You know," Qeb winced. "I thought that maybe... I-I should check on you."

In any other case, Setesh would have appreciated the sympathy. Not this time -- he couldn't live with the humiliation of being seen in such a sorry state.

A spear of anxiety pierced the wither's chest as he spotted Qeb rounding the corner; he could just see the falcon's taloned feet moving across the stones, though his hiding place prevented him from seeing anything above the young god's knees.

He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face, as if that would somehow save him. Some part of him must have been sticking out -- maybe an ear, or his tail, or his foot, or something. He would be seen, he would be shamed, he would be ridiculed.

The fire spread from his face to his whole body, and he felt like his heart was going to explode. Despite lacking functional lungs, he felt like he was suffocating. It was too much. He would lose everything, all because he couldn't keep himself together--

What came next wasn't quite the violent explosion Setesh was expecting. Instead, it was slow, soft, and gentle: he felt a hand brush against his forehead.

The wither's eyes (or lackthereof?) "blinked" open, and he peered through the cracks between his gaunt fingers. He saw Qeb bent over and looking down at him with a furrowed brow, like he was wincing.

"...Um... Hey," Qeb murmured, and he gave a weak smile like he was trying to be reassuring.

Oh, ye gods. Kill me now, Setesh lamented internally, and he shrank away from the falcon's touch. He wished he could turn invisible, or that he could cease to exist entirely.

Seeming to get the message, Qeb removed his hand from the wither's skull.

"You, uh, you okay-?" he asked.

Almost as soon as he'd said it, the falcon squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.

"Why did I say that?" he grumbled under his breath, and he shook his head. "That--That was a stupid question. I mean, you're obviously not okay, I mean... I-I should really stop talking."

Setesh stared at him.

You're almost as bad at this at I am, he remarked to himself, and he felt a small twinge of amusement at the falcon's botched attempt. Qeb was the spitting image of his father, Horus, but he certainly wasn't as eloquent of a speaker. Really, Qeb was just as awkward as Setesh was, and he seemed to mean no harm...

The burning shame seemed to ebb away inside Setesh's skin, and his anxiety lessened. Maybe... He could deal with this.

Maybe.

Qebehsenuef, meanwhile, sort of fiddled with his hands; after a pause, he awkwardly held one out towards Setesh.

It took the wither a few seconds of staring at the falcon's taloned hand before he realized that Qeb was offering to help him up.

With a wheeze, the gaunt beast squeeeeeezed out of his hiding place; he wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to wedge himself into such a tight space to begin with, and it was a little painful contorting his body to get out of it. Once he'd gotten out from under the shelf, he halfheartedly placed his hand in Qeb's.

The wither's decayed paw was practically three times the size of Qeb's little talons. Setesh didn't even bother closing his fist -- he'd just end up pulling Qeb down with him.

Still, the young falcon certainly gave it a valiant effort: Qeb himself closed his fist and pulled with all his might. When he (obviously) failed to lift the huge rotten creature, Qeb even went as far as to try and grab Setesh's other arm and lift him up.

After a few awkward seconds of being pulled about, Setesh just sat up and righted himself.

Even in a sitting position, his twisted and gaunt body towered over Qeb. The wither expected the young god to shrink back in fear, but Qeb just gave an awkward little chuckle -- he looked up at Setesh with an embarassed, but genuine smile...

Qeb's entire suddenly seemed to shift: he averted his eyes shyly, and he started fiddling with the feathers on the back of his neck.

"S-Sorry. I guess I'm not much help, huh?" the young god murmured, stealing a glance back up at the wither's skull.

Setesh tilted his head, and his skull buzzed with confusion.

...Why are you looking at me like that? he wondered; if his brow had been intact, it surely would have furrowed. The falcon took notice of the animal-like head gesture, and he giggled -- the sound made Setesh recoil his head, and he felt a weird fluttering in his stomach.

Qeb was standing awfully close to him, and he was acting... Weird. Not like, bad weird, just... Strange. Or something.

Setesh wasn't really sure what to think of those few seconds of silence. His ears twitched and turned like radio antennae searching for a signal, but nothing was coming through.

"Oh, sorry, um-- I forgot you can't talk like this. Am I, er... Am I bothering you? I can go. I just wanted to see if I could help-- Or something like that," Qeb stuttered, finally meeting the wither's gaze again. Setesh could see that the falcon's face had changed color...

Wait. Waitwaitwaitwait-- No. Noooo. No, no, no-- There's no way, Setesh's thoughts vehemently denied, and he flattened his ears. He-- he had to be misinterpreting this. He was just... Confused. Mistaken. Stupid.

There was no way someone, anyone could... Like him. Not... Like that, anyway. Right?

The wither shook his head. He wasn't sure if he was responding negatively to himself or to Qeb's question, but it didn't matter -- Qebehsenuef gave a small sigh (of relief?) and another small chuckle.

It all made Setesh's stomach flutter again.

"G-Great! I mean, eheh..." the falcon fumbled, and he scrunched his head into his shoulders with a shy smile. "...How can I help?"

Setesh just stared at him.

I guess just being here is nice enough, he admitted to himself. The wither certainly wasn't going to complain about the way Qeb was looking at him -- the falcon didn't seem afraid, and... Well, whatever it was made Setesh feel a little better.

"Right, um, the talking thing... Okay, I'll ask 'yes' or 'no' questions. Does that help?" Qeb resumed, moving his fiddling hands behind his back. Setesh nodded in response; this earned a bright, endearing smile from the falcon, and the half-breed suddenly felt a little less wretched.

Don't be stupid, he warned himself. He's only acting this way because he's trying to cheer you up.

"Okay, so... Dad said you turned like this when you're upset, or sad, or mad, or something. Is that right?" the falcon asked right away. Setesh recoiled back at the bluntness of the question -- he couldn't tell if Qeb was serious or not. Did he seriously need to ask that?

The young god winced.

"Why did I say that-? Dumb question. Right," he grunted.

There was a small pause, and Qeb's eyes searched the stone floor like he had suddenly found the most interesting thing in the world; Setesh guessed the young god was trying to think of a more appropriate question.

"...You know, um, you don't have to hide, when you get like this, Setesh," the falcon tried. "I mean-- You know that, right?"

The wither tilted his head. What kind of question was that? Qeb obviously wanted him to say "yes," but Setesh was more inclined to say "no"! At least it wasn't as blunt as the last one...

He's trying, I guess.

Qeb seemed to realize that this question had stumped the wither, and he sighed in exasperation.

"This is harder than I thought," he admitted, and he began fiddling with the feathers on the back of his neck again.

You're telling me, Setesh thought to himself. At least you can talk.

The wither tried to scoff, or chuckle, or something, but his vocal folds couldn't manage it -- he just gave a dusty little wheeze. Qeb started a little at the sudden noise, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise; upon realizing it had been an attempt to emote, though, he just offered a sheepish and apologetic smile.

"...Let me try and start over. If that's okay?" the young god opted. Setesh snorted, rolled his eyes, and just nodded his head. They were going to be here all day at this rate.

"You really don't have to hide. This stuff just -- it's just what happens to you, sometimes, and you can't help it. No one should be judging you for it," Qeb insisted. The words were nice, but Setesh wondered if the falcon was just saying what he wanted to hear...

"I-I know my brothers can be kind of... Well, they can be mean to you about it, I guess," Qeb mumbled. His eyes remained trained on the floor, and he seemed to grow guilty. "But Dad doesn't mind. Neither does Mom," he added, and he at last raised his gaze up to meet Setesh's again.

"...Neither do I."

Well, obviously, Setesh supplied mentally. Otherwise, you wouldn't be standing here.

Even if Qeb was just being polite, Setesh appreciated hearing it all the same -- it was... Nice to hear. It was nice to be acknowledged. He would have smiled, if he'd had a face.

As he searched the falcon's eyes, Setesh felt that fluttering in his stomach again. It felt... Warm. Qeb was kind of cute, if Setesh was honest with himself.

"So yeah, you... You don't have to hide it. Just be you," the young god finished. It was a weak speech, but the message was still sincere.

The wither dipped his head to show he understood. He couldn't do much else, but he at least wanted to show he appreciated the kind words.

"...Actually, Setesh... I-If I can," Qeb started, shuffling his feet nervously. "...There's more I'd like to say."

He took a hesitant step towards Setesh, and the wither had to incline his head to look down at the young god. He didn't know how to feel about Qeb getting so close to him all of a sudden -- the fluttering sensation returned, and it didn't go away this time...

"I, uh... I r-really, really like this new look you have," the falcon admitted. Qeb's shy little smile caused that "fluttery feeling" to intensify. Setesh wondered if he was going to be sick.

Hesitantly, Qeb raised his hand, and he slowly brought it towards Setesh's skull...

The wither remained as still as a statue, and he stared at the god before him -- first at Qeb's face, then at his taloned hand. What was he doing-? He knew this wasn't aggression; it was something affectionate, but it was more than just "friendliness," too. Setesh wasn't sure how to respond. Should he respond? What was he supposed to do?

He felt the falcon's fingers trace his lower jaw, where his cheek should have been.

"It's... Cool. Yeah," Qeb chuckled nervously, and his feathered face flushed an even deeper color than before.

...What's happening-?? Setesh's thoughts screamed in confusion. All the wither could do was whine, seeing as he had no voice.

As Qebehsenuef removed his hand from the wither's skull, Setesh felt abysmally cold -- like all the warmth had left his body with the falcon's touch. He was half-tempted to lean forward and press his head into Qeb's hand again, but...

That would be weird. Bad weird. And he'd ruin the good that was in this moment.

Qeb cleared his throat, and he averted his eyes.

"I like it," he restated, though his smile faded just a little. Why-? Why was he retreating? Setesh didn't understand. Had he done something wrong?

"...Eheh, sorry. I'll, um, leave you alone now. I just-- Wanted to let you know," the falcon stuttered, shuffling his feet again.

What? What?? No, no, I don't want you to go, Setesh protested, and his throat wheezed. It was no use. The young god stepped away from the half-breed.

Setesh wished he wasn't withering -- he wanted to say something, to tell Qeb it was okay, that he wanted him to stay. He was too afraid to touch Qeb with his twisted hands, to try and pull him back -- he didn't want to freak him out, to scare him. And what if Setesh had gotten everything wrong? Qeb might never talk to him again...

"...When you're feeling better, um... I'll be here," Qebehsenuef resumed, flashing another polite smile. "I-I mean-- Not literally right here, but like... Around. I mean you can talk to me if you want, okay?" he rambled, eventually just throwing his hands up. "Just-- Let me know, alright?"

For once, Setesh was glad he didn't have a face: it made it easier to hide the overwhelming relief that washed over him. Qeb was leaving, but not forever. This wasn't the end -- Setesh hadn't ruined everything.

The wither nodded vigorously, and wished he could have smiled. Qebehsenuef snickered at this gesture, and Setesh's stomach fluttered again.

"I'll... See you later, okay?" the young god insisted, continuing to walk backwards and away from the half-breed. He backed all the way into another shelf and gave a tiny eep in surprise -- had he meant to do that? -- then sheepishly turned to leave.

Yeah, see you, Setesh wanted to respond. He found himself nodding again, even though Qeb had already looked away. Without so much as moving a muscle, he watched the falcon walk away; as soon as Qeb had gone, the wither sagged like a sack of potatoes. He felt so overwhelmed with new feelings -- he felt kind of sick, kind of anxious, kind of good.

...What just happened? he wondered hopelessly to himself, and he looked at the floor.

...He wanted to go after Qeb.