It had been a long time since Nole had gotten into a fight with Bundi. Never had it ever turned something so nail bitingly tense as this. They had been talking all morning, as they usually did. Noe loved talking with them, especially if it was just them, but it had turned sour so quickly. Nole had bitten into lemons thinking they were oranges before (he had this moments) but nothing like this. It all started when Percy's compromise came up.

Nole had been down the docks and repairing some of the loose planks on the boardwalk. The sound of his hammer filled in the space sparsely filled with nature's song. Bundi's was sitting nearby and working on their map while handing Nole nails from the bucket. They were talking to and Nole was listening patiently from his spot, halfway submerged in the calm waters of their slightly more than dinky port. They didn't have many ships either, it was a grand total of three. They could only steal ships if more then one was sent over from the mainland. The guards could escape and there would be less bloodshed. They were in the process of building their own boats but due to the lack of lots of resources it was slow going.

"-you know how Persephone's proposing she going to help built up Thanatos?"

"You seemed to like it," Nole noted.

"I did, but I don't feel entirely satisfied," Bundi admitted.

"You want...more? Less?"

Bundi paused before mimicking a grasping motion at the sky. "More."

"More?" Nole frowned.

He had personally thought the offer was a little much. They were doing pretty well for themselves here. They had kids coming in from all over the continent, all of them had basic training in the tasks from their tribes' and cities' culture. They were not short on expertise, very often as the kids grew up and sharpened their skills, they created new things. Things that they never would have thought of if they hadn't been abandoned on their island. There was a kid from the North that specialized in mechanics that teamed up with an apprentice magician from the South who were working on weaving together the first pair of fireproof gloves.

"Yeah, I want... I want to go back."

"You want to live on the mainland?" Nole almost dropped his hammer.

Bundi glanced at him with a dreamy look in their eyes. "I miss my culture, not my family. I miss the grasslands and running down mountains at breakneck speed and the hoofbeats of the guanaco through the rock and the screams of desperate cougars in the middle of the night. I miss the rain dances and the stories around the fire and smell of my grandmama's feijoada."

"We've made feijoada before." Nole pointed out, feeling hurt.

"It's never the same as when our ancestors made it." Bundi sighed.

Nole put down his hammer carefully and hefted himself over the edge of the dock, and dripping all over the place. "Well we can go visit, I suppose."

"Are you scared of them?" Bundi asked.

Nole shrugged, "no, not scared. I just don't think they're ready yet."

"Honey," Bundi said softly, crouching down so their forehead pressed against his, "they're never gonna be ready if we stay here."

Nole looked up at them with muted adoration in his eyes. "I don't want to put the kids in danger."

"They'll be fine," Bundi assured. "We'll have Persephone's blessing. Then as time passes... maybe mine."

"What does that mean?"

Bundi shrugged, "Persephone is awfully small for her throne."

Nole's eyes widened, "w-what?"

Bundi wrapped on of their hands around his and let a small flame, pink in color, roll back and forth between them. "Just think about it darling... with me as their monarch, and you beside me, we could finally make things right."

Nole bit his lip, then tugged his hand away from Bundi's. "I don't... I don't like that."

Bundi paused, and then their hands fell at their side, the warmth in their voice seeped out of them. "What do you mean?"

"This is enough, what we have here, is enough. If we try and take anymore the people will fight back, and we will lose. Just like last time." Nole's hand grabbed onto the dock. "You remember last time? You remember Antaeus?" 

"Of course, I remember Antaeus!" Bundi snapped. "No one can ever forget him."

"You remember how he drove himself into the ground." Nole stared Bundi directly in the eyes and held him there. "You remember how he killed mercilessly for the sake of gaining more, and more, and more, and more—"

"Stop!" Bundi gasped. "Nole, stop."

The orange haired man was shaking. They both were, and tears grasped at Nole's eyelids. Bundi let out a shaky breath and steadied themself, barely daring to look up at their beloved. Unseen scars marred the space between them, the liquid dripping out of the wound was not sweet but stagnant and bitter. It was the kind of thing that bred nightmares in the cervices of flesh, and they would crawl out in the fashion of maggots.

"I'm just trying to do what's good for us, for my people," Bundi's fist clenched and the freshly healed wound pulsed. "I have been mistreated my whole life, I'm sorry if I think we deserve the luxury for once."

"That's not what I'm saying," Nole pleaded.

"It sure sounds like it."

Bundi puffed up, and twitched menacingly. Sparks flew off their body. The fire crackling, spiting, and rolling on their veiny hands was a deep purple I color. Nole stepped back, his face stretching like a mask of horror. The waves crashed harder against the dock and soaked through Nole's clothes. The metal in the dock shook.

"You're scaring me," he wheezed.

Bundi's eyes were deep and cold like and old well when they stared Nole down with all the malice and betray of and ancient broken spirit. The purple fire sucked onto their clothes and made the whole sky darker.

"Maybe that's a good thing."