Kimahri. G. ~200 words. Fluff. Pastfic.
Kimahri does not think this is good idea.

“Kimahri does not think this is good idea.”

Yuna smiled and waved her hand. “Oh, don’t be silly, Kimahri. You can do it.”

The only answer was a deep, rumbling growl and the slight twitch of his muzzle. His tail, normally still, swished back and forth in agitation.

Instantly, there was a high-pitched kweh followed by a flurry of tiny yellow feathers. Yuna inched over to peer around the Ronso’s bulk, her expression a mixture of curiosity and dread.

Kimahri folded his arms over his chest, slowly lifted his tail and eyed the little chicobo that was dangling from it, its small wings flapping furiously. She merely gave him another little helplessly amused smile while he gave his tail a flick in a failed attempt to dislodge the bird.


Several nights later, with the fires of Besaid twinkling far below, Kimahri sat on the Promontory alone with his thoughts. The chicobo rested in the palm of his hand, quietly pecking at the mimett greens he’d shredded with his own claws. Every now and then, it would let out a little half-kweh of happiness, and Kimahri almost smiled.


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