say my name you know who i am
10-10-2015, 01:15 PM
Valentine’s voice was icy. It bit into his flesh and poisoned the already uncomfortable scrapes the past second had made upon his mood. ”I am sorry to have offended you. Know that I will respect your relationship with her – I was just off put by how you presented the information,” he explained himself, his spine tingling and his throat tightening. His heart was beating quicker and quicker. He did not want to fight with Valentine, but this was happening. Should he have kept quiet, that moment ago? … No. It had bothered him and he had wanted clarification. He had gotten it, at a steep price.
Valentine, his anger still burning blue and cold as his eyes, continued to explain. Nagendra listened in silence, like a reprimanded child. His head hung down slightly, his stare glued to the ground. The larger wolf’s last sentence on authority echoed thoroughly within his brain. He tried to think about it as quickly as he could – tried to weight in from each corner of his own ideals whether or not he should accept it. The gears in his head spun rapidly, but to little avail. If he did stay, was it even possible for him to repair the rift that had suddenly split between them? He licked his lips nervously, still eying the ground, still silent. He thought that, for the first time in years, he might cry. Then Valentine told him something he had not known.
Slaves? He glanced up, his jade eyes sparkling with moisture (not from the notion of slaves, but from the accumulating stress of the situation) as they searched Valentine’s face. He looked back down again. He didn’t know how he felt about it. While he was very kindhearted and never wished harm upon others, he was still plenty lacking in any righteous creed. He had no shapely morals – only his own odds and ends tailored to his own situations and needs. He had never encountered any slaves before, or any slave owners, and thus found himself very unable to judge what he thought of it. It put him in a very frustrating place. Some gears spun in his head furiously, but none meshed to turn the rest and so he got nowhere. His “chance” to walk away sounded like a singular opportunity. It sounded like, by staying, he would be delving into the very commitment that was the antithesis of his being.
But somehow, he was still considering it.
Somehow, being here had made him yearn for a place to belong. He wanted the best of so many worlds – to greedily take what pleased him and to give only what he wanted to. In these ways he was wrong and corrupt and he knew it but did not mind it. But it seemed here he would find a block in the way of these pursuits. A choice that he needed to make. It was excruciatingly difficult, and no matter how hard he tried to plug each choice into each equation of his beliefs in his mind, he could gain no particular leverage on either side. He breathed softly, his pupils widening and dripping an unfocused stare upon the grass at his feet.
He had sparked Valentine’s anger – broken whatever had been building between them and unveiled a side of him that he did not like. And although he wasn’t certain he could, he badly wanted to mend the fissure that he had created. He did not want to leave this one part of Alacritia he had begun to know. He did not want to sever himself from this person he had found, even if he was finding that he was not who he thought he was. There was something alluring about it.
”If I leave, will I ever see you again?” he asked simply.
Valentine, his anger still burning blue and cold as his eyes, continued to explain. Nagendra listened in silence, like a reprimanded child. His head hung down slightly, his stare glued to the ground. The larger wolf’s last sentence on authority echoed thoroughly within his brain. He tried to think about it as quickly as he could – tried to weight in from each corner of his own ideals whether or not he should accept it. The gears in his head spun rapidly, but to little avail. If he did stay, was it even possible for him to repair the rift that had suddenly split between them? He licked his lips nervously, still eying the ground, still silent. He thought that, for the first time in years, he might cry. Then Valentine told him something he had not known.
Slaves? He glanced up, his jade eyes sparkling with moisture (not from the notion of slaves, but from the accumulating stress of the situation) as they searched Valentine’s face. He looked back down again. He didn’t know how he felt about it. While he was very kindhearted and never wished harm upon others, he was still plenty lacking in any righteous creed. He had no shapely morals – only his own odds and ends tailored to his own situations and needs. He had never encountered any slaves before, or any slave owners, and thus found himself very unable to judge what he thought of it. It put him in a very frustrating place. Some gears spun in his head furiously, but none meshed to turn the rest and so he got nowhere. His “chance” to walk away sounded like a singular opportunity. It sounded like, by staying, he would be delving into the very commitment that was the antithesis of his being.
But somehow, he was still considering it.
Somehow, being here had made him yearn for a place to belong. He wanted the best of so many worlds – to greedily take what pleased him and to give only what he wanted to. In these ways he was wrong and corrupt and he knew it but did not mind it. But it seemed here he would find a block in the way of these pursuits. A choice that he needed to make. It was excruciatingly difficult, and no matter how hard he tried to plug each choice into each equation of his beliefs in his mind, he could gain no particular leverage on either side. He breathed softly, his pupils widening and dripping an unfocused stare upon the grass at his feet.
He had sparked Valentine’s anger – broken whatever had been building between them and unveiled a side of him that he did not like. And although he wasn’t certain he could, he badly wanted to mend the fissure that he had created. He did not want to leave this one part of Alacritia he had begun to know. He did not want to sever himself from this person he had found, even if he was finding that he was not who he thought he was. There was something alluring about it.
”If I leave, will I ever see you again?” he asked simply.