The day after Parrot moved in, Xisuma was busy disassembling and assembling bed frames. He had asked if the boy wanted to sleep with him or on his own and the boy decided on the former. Strength in numbers, he'd said, or something along those lines. So, Xisuma was occupied with bringing a bed over from one of the other cabins. Needless to say, it was easier said than done.

Thankfully, he was physically capable of transporting the mattress as Parrot watched from the steps of the cabin. The bed frame came from a bunk bed, however, which was a whole other nightmare to break down.

It was done, though, and Parrot had his own bed in Xisuma's cabin. The man had pushed his own bed up to the wall of one side, the boy's taking up the other by the time the sun had set.

"You could look through the storage cabins tomorrow and decorate your side if you'd like." he offered when Parrot entered the room to take a look.

Anything bird-themed the parrot found in the storage was hauled inside. Before Xisuma knew it, he was getting a work-out as Parrot picked out different pieces of furniture and toys that had been buried so deep, the whole pile needed to be reorganized to unearth them.

"And this... hmm, there!"

There was cyan paint drying on the grass and dirt near the campfire. Most of the pieces that were picked out had new cartoon parrots on them as Parrot had decided to put Xisuma's drawing skills to the test. It was a good thing that Xisuma had taken a few art classes after high school.

Overall, Parrot seemed to have taken well to the change of scenery. Xisuma was certainly not complaining either; it made taking care of the boy easier.

The second night, though, Xisuma learnt that there was more hiding under that happy face. Of course, no kid survived two weeks alone and afraid in a forest full of his zombie classmates without the scars to show for it.

Bundled up in two heavy blankets to defend against the chilly night, Parrot was shaking like a leaf. It was the first thing Xisuma noticed when he returned to the cabin after putting out the campfire outside, which he'd used to cook dinner earlier.

"Parrot?" he called into the darkness, lit up only by the candlelight of the lantern he was holding. He could just barely see the blanket cocoon's outline trembling. There was no response and the shaking didn't stop; strangely, it intensified.

Not knowing what was happening, Xisuma's heart became weighted with something awful.

He approached the boy's bedside and set the lantern down on the nightstand. "Are you alright, mate?"

No answer.

Worried, he tentatively placed a hand upon the thick covers, a palm solid against what he thought to be the boy's shoulders. Parrot didn't still but the quivering lessened enough for the man to reach and drag the blankets down just enough for the kid to be able to breathe. Flushed and glossy cheeks met him when he did so and Xisuma was at a standstill.

What could he do when the child he'd saved was shaking like a leaf, terrorized by his own mind in his sleep? Should he–

Parrot lashed out with wild hands and eyes, grabbing at Xisuma's shirt and digging his blunt nails into it, unwittingly gnawing at the skin underneath. The man tried not to shout in surprise, yet he flinched and hunched as the boy clung to him, trembling still and arms winding fast and tight around his torso, head buried in his chest as he screamed his poor heart out.

Moments passed, the shock going away with that fragment of time. Xisuma wound his own arms around the boy, one hand finding its way up to matted tufts of hair, whilst the other remained firmly on that trembling back. There was a pang in his chest as he felt tears wet the front of his shirt and he couldn't give a damn if there was snot mixed in there too. Small nails continued to claw at his skin, threatening to rip holes into fabric.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating only the top of Parrot's head where a hand was petting languidly. A sob wracked the boy's back, jolting the mattress, muscles tensing up, and the man removed his hands from the child to bring the discarded blankets around their bodies. Parrot found the opportunity to bury himself deeper into what had become a makeshift burrow of warmth and safety and a net of softness to surround him. He was mumbling something, voice low and broken and cracking at every other word, distorted by sobs and incomprehensible.

"Parrot? Buddy?" Xisuma shook him lightly and he caught a glimmer of grey eyes looking up at him. Glimmering, shining with the fear that came after a bad, too real dream. The firelight reflecting off the pale colour made Xisuma lose his voice, a gasp emitting from his mouth, when he was going to speak, instead.

"They're all dead!" the boy wailed louder, small hands gripping even tighter, eyes watering with fresh tears at a private recollection, bottom lip quivering. "They're all dead, Suma!"

If he didn't have a child crying into his chest, maybe he would have worried more about the noise luring in the undead. As the situation was, he couldn't care less.

They were safe in the cabin and Parrot needed to get it all out. They were all dead. Those who weren't would be in time. Any survivors would be lost in the forest, left for the roaming undead to find and eat.

In the city, too, there would be corpses roaming the streets. Xisuma didn't know –couldn't know if his family was still alive or if his parents had turned, or whether his brother had gone on a wild goose chase to find him. He'd left everything behind and he hadn't left anything to indicate where he had gone.

He was as alone as the boy in his arms, cocooned beneath heavy, soft blankets like he was a child himself. He wanted to cry, yet he only shed one tear that fell on Parrot's forehead –he wiped it away with a thumb. It could've been the boy's sentimentality working its way through his mind, breaking through cracks in the walls that he had neglected to maintain, yet it could've been the words that grounded some part of him to the gruesome reality.

"I know, Parrot" Xisuma said because what else was there to say? Truths? Lies? Everything he uttered would've been a lie; even the lies themselves. He was never good at that anyway.

"Even my parents... they're dead."

"...Perhaps."

"...I won't see them again..."

Xisuma was silent. The words the boy was speaking were hitting his heart and he could feel heat burn behind his eyes. With each word, he felt himself realize the truths for himself, something choking him and leaving him the wrong kind of breathless.

Parrot rested his forehead on the man's chest, his grip sturdy for a moment longer before slackening enough for Xisuma to feel crescent bruises forming. He brought his arms around Parrot, securing him yet again, and he waited with tears running down his own cheeks.

Waiting was all he did for what felt like hours until the sobs and the crying silenced, replaced by tiny breaths and uneven pants. It was getting better. Xisuma pulled them both down to the bed, seeing no way to detangle himself from the blankets without disturbing Parrot.

The boy burrowed further into him, having cried himself to sleep as Xisuma reached over to put out the lantern.

"What are you doing there?" a voice behind him asked. Xisuma jolted, almost cutting himself with the knife in his hand. A branch of fresh thyme fell to the ground as it had been cut from the bush.

There were many herbs growing around the campgrounds, which he was certainly not complaining about. He had foraged a bit of them on his first couple of days but he'd figured that drying some more thyme and lavender would be good. There was a book of remedies in one of the cabinets in the storage and since the only medicine they had were a few bottles of aspirin and first aid kits, some herbal tea had to do for a random stomach ache.

The hospitals in the city were running thin on medical supplies. Before he left, there had been a rumor that many pharmaceutical companies and factories had been damaged beyond repair by the hordes, so that was the only medicine they'd have for a while: herbal tea and aspirin and maybe he'd find some wild chamomile deeper in.

"I'm just foraging for some herbs. We don't have a lot of medicine, so we need to follow the old ways of tea and botany" he said as he looked over his shoulder. Parrot stared at the plant with curious eyes, hands hidden behind his back.

"Can I help?" he asked and Xisuma, ever the oblivious one to obviously suspicious actions, nodded.

"Of course! Wait here for a second, I'll get you–"

Parrot had already pulled out a switchblade from behind his back with the widest grin known to mankind. Whatever it was that Xisuma wanted to say promptly died in his throat.

"Where did you find that?" he asked, taking the incredibly-dangerous-for-kids tool from the kid. He was thinking of giving him a bag to collect berries from a nearby bush, not give him something that could accidentally harm him.

"It was on the table and I got curious." Parrot said, all honey-dripping smiles and innocent eyes, like he hadn't cried himself to sleep just the other night. Well, Xisuma preferred the honey over the salt anyway. "It could come in handy with the zobies too."

Xisuma looked over the switchblade in his hand. His name was engraved into the handle in loopy lettering he could hardly make out. It was an old gift from his brother; some sort of 'coming of age' ritual gift that Xisuma never learnt the origin of. Xanthus was weird like that.

"Can I use it?"

For a moment, Xisuma remained silent, contemplating. One one hand, it would do neither of them any good if Parrot somehow cut himself. On the other hand, it would be better if Parrot knew how to use a knife. He'd already bashed a zombie's head in and teachers usually yell to not run around with scissors but children's minds don't often work with self-preservation at the front lines.

So, he responds with a question of his own. "Do you know how to use it?"

Parrot shakes his head. "No."

"I'll teach you, then. Come on."

And it's settled.

The thyme branches were hung up to dry and Xisuma found a blunt knife in the storage cabin. Parrot looked enthusiastic and curious, reminding the man of himself when he was around his age; when he and his brother played the white and black knights. Xanthus always picked the black knight; the bad guy off to steal the princess that the white knight protected.

It was a fun game, save for the times that they got into it so much that they wouldn't talk to each other for days if one had got the upper hand.

"Suma?" Parrot was waiting at the door when he turned to look.

"Ah, yes, I'm coming, sorry!"

He must've looked so lost then. Lost in a memory of the past; in the memory of a dear brother he'd never see again. He couldn't know what face he'd made but he could infer it wasn't a pretty one with the way Parrot frowned.

He gave the boy the blunted knife and brought a pillow along. Tying it to the trunk of a young tree wasn't difficult and he drew a few circles with charcoal in the middle to turn it into a suitable target.

"Okay, so, this is how you open it– watch your fingers!"

The switchblade flicked open, startling the child.

"Ow."

Thankfully, Parrot only managed to nick himself on the side of his hand. It was a surface wound; one that Xisuma quickly treated and covered with a bandaid. The kid wasn't discouraged by that accident.

"Can you show me one more time?"

Xisuma nodded with a small smile. "Of course."

The third time, Parrot flicked open the switchblade with little trouble and Xisuma moved to the basics of stabbing with the blunt knife. The skills he'd learnt whilst fighting with his brother finally seemed to be paying off. Sure, it wasn't anywhere near the skill level of a real fighter but Xisuma always was Xanthus' moving target –he knew more about dodging and rolling out of the way than going in for the kill. So, whilst his brother was attacking, he was observing.

Xisuma had learnt which patterns weren't sufficient and which were most likely to kill.

For the time being, he told the kid to stab from a certain distance and they worked on stance together. Again, Xisuma wasn't an expert but he knew a few of things. Those few things were enough to exhaust Parrot by the time the sun was high above the camp.

"I'm tiiired!" Parrot complained from where he lied with limbs spread out like a starfish beneath the shade of a tree. Xisuma was busy mending the little tears in the pillow case with needle and thread.

"You could have a nap" he suggested. The boy hummed his disapproval.

"How do you know all those things?" Parrot asked instead of sleeping off the adrenaline crash. "People don't stab each other."

Xisuma stopped for a moment. He turned to look at the boy, who was staring at him, he considered him. "My brother and I used to play knights a lot when I was around your age."

At that, Parrot's eyes widened with curiosity. "You have a brother?"

"In the city," dead or alive, who knows? "Putting the many attempts he's made at my life, he's a good guy."

"He doesn't sound like a good guy."

"...It's complicated."

"Everything is complicated for adults."

Xisuma chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."

He snapped the thread with his teeth and put the needle away. The pillow looked brand new, the thread barely noticeable thanks to his handiwork. Satisfied, he sat down under the shade of the tree parallel to Parrot's sprawled out body.

"What's his name?" Parrot asked, looking at him owlishly.

"Xanthus."

"That's a weird name," the boy casually observed. "Yours too."

Xisuma refrained from pointing out that 'Parrot' wasn't as weird a name as his own. Children were curious, offensive mostly out of curiosity too. While it did offend him slightly, he let it slide. Instead, he ushered the kid to get up and herded him towards the charcoal of the campfire; it was time for lunch.

The river was cold in the morning. The water running was so clear and inviting and innocent but it would bite into flesh if it could. Dew stuck to blades of grass and a few patches of wildflowers were scattered about. There was a small school of fish swimming against the current, which scattered when small hands dove in an attempt to catch them.

"They're fast!" Xisuma laughed as he set out the few towels he'd brought with him. Parrot jumped from one side of the river to the other, eyes focused on the poor animals in the water as he chased after them.

"I'll catch you!" Parrot yelled, perhaps a bit too loud, and dove another time. His shirt had been sprayed with water from his eagerness to hunt fish and his pant legs looked soaked even though they were rolled up to his knees. Xisuma made sure to keep an eye out for any wandering undead and patted the switchblade he'd strapped to his hip to assure himself that he could at least defend long enough for Parrot to get away –just in case. "Come here, fishy, fishy!"

Another splash. That time, Parrot arose with a winner's smile and a fish floundering desperately in his hands. Xisuma smiled back at him with a thumbs up. The main point of that trip to the stream was to freshen up but returning with something extra for lunch was most certainly welcome.

"Good job!" he praised and Parrot was distracted enough for the fish to wiggle out and slap him in the face, before falling into the water and disappearing downstream. It was a funny scene, one that had Xisuma turning the other way to hide his amusement as the kid fumed.

"Aw, come on, man!"

"You did it once, you can do it again." Xisuma encouraged without turning around. It took him a bit to collect his thoughts and to not burst into laughter as he watched Parrot try to fish with his hands. They could probably set up a trap in that protruding tree root over there, actually.

"Hmmmm!" and Parrot dove again with little luck.

"Any luck?"

He was ignored. So, as Parrot tried to fish in the cold water, Xisuma bent over and washed his face and hair as best as he could. It was a sunny day, so he didn't need to worry about getting a crick in his neck or getting sick. The child on the other hand...

Xisuma didn't have the heart to tell him to stop playing. He observed, with a towel wrapped around his head, as the boy guided the fish upstream, cornering them against the current. A fish was caught and Parrot turned around, holding the fish up like it was the most precious thing. It was endearing, to say the least.

"Caught one!"

"Well–"

An arrow whistle cut him off. Before he could even think twice about it, he was dashing forward, tugging Parrot harshly towards himself, closer to shore. There was a lot of splashing, a lot of water spraying and the boy's wild shout as he was dragged. What remained was an arrow sticking out just a few paces away from where Parrot had just been standing, nailing a fish to the riverbed.

The forest was unnervingly quiet. Save for the water rushing past, there was no other sound and Xisuma couldn't distinguish anything or anyone in the foliage; where the arrow had come from.

Towels abandoned, he grabbed Parrot by the hand and took him away from the river as calmly as he could. He hoped the kid wouldn't pick up on how his hands shook with adrenaline.

"Suma, what was that?!" Parrot had the sense to whisper instead of yell.

"I don't know, Parrot," he responded, glancing behind them as they returned to camp. Whomever that was didn't appear to be following them but one could never be sure. Returning to camp probably wasn't the best idea but it was the only place Xisuma could navigate and also the only place where he could hide Parrot, that would attract a bit of human attention were something to... happen. "I don't know."

They didn't return for the blankets and the fish were long forgotten. When they got back to the campfire, Parrot rushed to hide inside. Xisuma didn't follow until his mind calmed; when he was certain that whoever that was hadn't followed them.

==========

I have decided to take the running joke of Xisuma's name being mispronounced in stride, so now Parrot just calls him 'Suma' because the 'Xi' part is too difficult lol

Also, to clarify, the last segment is the morning of the third day of Parrot's stay at the camp