[Gift] The 11th Hour | Tea

Rain hammered steadily against the tall cabin windows while cold wind rattled the roof overhead. Outside, the world had dissolved into gray fog and whipping branches, the storm swallowing the distant cliffs entirely. Every so often thunder rolled across the canyon hard enough to make the wooden walls creak. Inside, however, the cabin was warm, comfortable, filled with such calmness that it could perhaps lull anyone inside into sleep. A kettle hissed softly above the fireplace while the scent of steeping tea drifted through the room. Thick blankets had been thrown across chairs near the fire, and orange light flickered gently against the walls.

Tima sat stiffly beside the small wooden table, claws wrapped carefully around a steaming cup. His dark scales reflected dim firelight while droplets of rain still clung to the white fur along his neck. One of his wings twitched occasionally, restless despite the warmth. Across from him sat Amit. The resemblance between them was unmistakable. Same pale mane. Same curved tail. Same quiet green eyes that rarely gave away emotion. But where Tima sat rigid and alert, Amit looked calmer, almost detached, his posture loose as he stared into the steam curling from his tea. For several minutes neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t hostile, it felt familiar in a way that a quiet corner might feel. Comfortable.

They had never been close in the way most siblings were. Even growing up, conversations between them had always been short and infrequent, separated by long stretches of quiet understanding. Months could pass without contact and neither would mention it. Still, it felt strange sitting together again. Another gust of wind rattled the cabin, the sound much like something trapped. Amit finally broke the silence first. “Perhaps we should meet more often…” It could have been a question but it hadn’t come out that way. It sounded more like a statement that perhaps neither of them would ever follow. Life could get busy and while they would always be blood, they had other family now, other riders and dragons to spend their time with. “Yeah… maybe…” Silence returned. Rain struck the windows harder now, accompanied by the low groan of thunder somewhere beyond the cliffs, soon lightning would follow. Tima took a careful sip of tea, and his twin did the same.

The silence as before was familiar in that way only family could be, blood or not but in this case blood. For a while they simply listened to the storm. Rainwater streamed down the windows in crooked lines while wind howled around the cabin corners. The lightning that had been sure to come finally came, lighting up the sky beyond the glass in a wondrous display of color in the dim shades that the storm forced the world to dawn. A comfortable stillness settled between them again, subtle but real. No dramatic reunion. No emotional speeches. Just shared warmth, tea, and the strange relief of another familiar presence nearby after months apart. Eventually Amit reached for the kettle and refilled both cups without asking. Perhaps they would do this again.