Cosmic Love
She sloughed through the moor with her head held low, her once glossy fur now a tattered mess covered in briars and mud. She waited, first in her home, then on the new island for her mother to join her, but she never came. Months of searching for the older woman had yielded no results and her hope began to dwindle each day. Eventually she simply realized she had to come to terms with the loss of her home, her mother, and her life and hope that she could start afresh in this new land.
Hestia had never lived without her mother, she had been a constant in her life, her closest friend, and someone she could cry to. Now she was gone, and it was far too soon for the spear maker, and too much against her wishes.
She stopped at the border of the first pack she came across, debating what her next move before she tipped her head back and summoned the leader to greet her. She feared that her life would be nothing but heart ache and misery, now that she was fully and completely alone, but her mother would never allow her to lie down and accept death. She persisted.
Speaking Thinking |
She was almost startled by the withered state of the woman that approached her and felt an instant and burning pang of sorrow in her heart. The woman couldn’t have been older than her mother was and the way the woman carried herself was remarkably close to the woman who had known Hestia her whole life.
“I- yes…I think.” She said, her voice a noticeably unfeminine and deep pitch that made the ebony woman look away self-consciously. She cleared her throat and attempted to speak more clearly. “I wanted to join a- your pack, you know, if I could.” She said, attempting to hide that Celestial had been the first pack she had chosen to latch onto and that the decision itself had come with little knowledge about the pack itself.
Speaking Thinking |
She gave the woman a more searching glance, noting the strong body beneath that unkempt coat, a woman clearly more used to work than leisure. "We could always use more good wolves here in Celestial," she noted noncommittally though she was already inclined towards the woman. Even if she'd been a pampered, spoiled princess Gwen would have been inclined towards her - the pack couldn't afford to be as choosy as some would wish, not anymore. "Though we do offer a home to those who need one, we all must provide for the pack in whatever way we are capable of. Are you trained in anything, or is there a profession you have interest in training in?"
She shifted slightly under the woman’s kind gaze. Would the woman still look at her that way if she knew what Hestia had done? How she plotted to have a prince overthrown and exiled because she disagreed with his parentage, how she was a traitor and untrustworthy to anyone she disagreed with. She blinked slowly, forcing the thoughts away as she returned her attention to the female.
“I was a speak maker in my homeland.” She said hoarsely, still biting back the insistent whispers that she was a monster and a villain. “I can craft other things, mostly from wood, but spears were what I made most of the time.” She explained.
Speaking Thinking |
Her head lifted at the matron’s interest in her skill and found herself standing straighter with confidence. “I couldn’t make the best spears if I didn’t know how to use them.” She said with a slight smirk then her heart leapt as the older woman told her how welcome her skills would be in the pack. She could hardly believe her good fortune that the first pack she chose would have use for her craft. She could go back to doing what she loved and be valued by others again, this time without the threat of ice wolves encroaching on her home.
“My name is Hestia, it’s a pleasure to meet you Gwenevere.” She said and gave a polite tip of her head.
Speaking Thinking |