He knew that urVa could end him just as easy as he would blow up the sprinkle of fire that crawled from the bonfire onto his tail.
That was, at least, the thing all other urru wanted to believe in.
That they could all just end the skeksis lives, easy, without war, without bloodshed. Without hesitation, of course, because they all knew what was right and wrong.
But at the same time, they were aware that it wouldn't be without war and without bloodshed. This war would bloom in their own minds and the blood would flow from their own veins, before they evaporated into the gleam of light.
They weren't as selfless, they weren't as willing to do sacrifices.
And urVa was the only one that ever admitted he never cared for the gelfling as much, to kill his own soul. To condamn his very bond to Thra and remove a life that breathed the same scent of the trees, bathed in the same cold ponds, feasted on the blood of the creatures to swallow the spirit of the planet.
Maybe the possible threat to the skeksis would one day make them herd all the urru in the dungeons, where they will be too stale and too indifferent to free themselves in a way they would swear would bless whole planet.
But not urVa. He was his saving point and his curse and both of these things were a poultice on a burning wound, a dark touch of the night that will never come; a burst of bright light that was spreading pleasure inside his tendons and bones.
He would die for it. To make it last.
But he knew he will never have to.
*
"Here."
A sharp, guttural voice reached the ears of the Archer and urVa smiled. He actually could swear that he sensed the scent of leather and old bones, but decided to not turn back, to not spoil Hunter's entrance.
"Do not make a fool of yourself. I know you sensed me long ago."
Another smile. Much wider.
"Perhaps. But only because your scent is well known to me."
"Here" cut skekMal and tossed something on the grass. urVa turned only then to see a broad and long skull. It looked like a bone and probably it was one. urVa looked with a question at his counterpart.
"It's not a bone" skekMal nodded at the item. "I made it. From the wood, mud and clay. Very durable. Very strong. Will fit your face."
urVa felt a pang of pleasant joy under his ribs. skekMal knew he would never wear a bone from a living creature and took it into the account.
"Do not think I spoil you, Archer" laughed sharply the Hunter and patted the wooden skull. "I just can't look at you saving the pests without the mask. Gelfling tell stories about you too. The savior should be well protected from their big stupid eyes."
The long arms of the Archer reached to embrace the Hunter. And skekMal didn't back off or even didn't shiver in disgust. urVa felt the warmth radiating from skekMal's body, the wild flame that never fades away.
"I didn't give you this from good heart."
"I know."
"I give it for a purpose."
"Yes."
"Wear it already, for Thra's mercy."
It fit of course. Like something that was made with care. Even if they could end each other so easily.
Not today.
Not ever.