Cruelclaw laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Right next to him Camellia snored, not making a lot of motion as she slept. She could be as still as the grave sometimes.
He nonetheless felt a turn in the bed, and judging by the sharpness of it he guessed she was awake.
"Okay, you've been staring at that ceiling for a while" she said, "Something on your mind?"
Cruelclaw sighed, not even turning to her.
"Nothing at all, sugar."
This earned him a pillowslap of frustration.
"I know you, it's never 'nothing'. Spill it out."
Indeed, it wasn't nothing. Camellia was great, but staying with her made Cruelclaw aware of his mortality, of his power potentially fading, of his wits dimming. That was a lot to unpack, and telling her to her face that it was because of her wasn't the wisest idea.
Or maybe it was, but Cruelclaw would not risk that vulnerability.
"I'm serious, it's nothing. Go back to sleep."
Before Camellia could protest, he kissed her. She melted into the kiss, in a way that could best be classified as passive-aggressive, before breaking it off. She sighed.
"Typical."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
But Camellia was back to sleep.
***
Vren stood on the shoreline, his bandits scattered about, when one of his bats reported a group incoming. The rat had prepared his blade with noxious spells to cut and infect, but upon seeing his face he relaxed somewhat.
"Vren!" Cruelclaw said, arms open.
"What are you doing here?" Vren said, reserved.
"Just to see how my favourite outlaw is doing. Have to scoop the competition, after all."
Cruelclaw approached. Any other fool would be decaying gruesomely by now, but Vren allowed it. The space between them closed, as the weasel stepped into the marsh waters, and soon they embraced, followed by an awkward kiss. Vren didn't do much to reciprocate, but he didn't fight it either.
"Vren, you're still as a cardboard" Cruelclaw said, stroking the rat's face.
Vren didn't answer, only leaning to his touch.
"I think you should go."
Cruelclaw stood dumbfounded.
"But I just got here."
"And whenever you come, you play me like a fiddle. So please, just leave. For your own sake."
Cruelclaw stared at Vren's blade. He hadn't raised it, but he knew better than to risk his chances.
Sighing, he departed. Vren watched him go with longing, before steeling his heart.
***
"Stop!" Baylen shouted.
"Wouldn't you like that" Cruelclaw said as run.
The chase was turning into quite the commotion, upsetting local businesses, but Baylen had assured they could handle the outlw alone. Cruelclaw jumped over a cabbage merchant; Baylen stopped and paid for the damages. Cruelclaw jumped unto the roof; Baylen circumvented that, throwing ballistic spells to knock him off his perch. Cruelclaw whistled for one of his birdfolk rogues to stall Baylen; Baylen's hammer knocked the finch mercifully to the side, wind sailed out of its wings.
Eventually, the two of them run into an alley... and kissed passionately.
"You can't keep doing this" Baylen said under thick gasps.
Cruelclaw's chest puffed.
"Haven't you heard? I'm the infamous Cruelclaw, I can do whatever I want."
"Then I'll stop you."
"Try me."
Baylen grabbed his wrist, only to pull him back into another kiss. They let him go, and much to their chagrin the weasel escaped.
Such was the life of the outlaw.
