I am the broken one
08-28-2018, 04:37 PM
He closed his eyes as the other said his name, but in no world could he pretend the strong timber of a male was the sweet sing-song of his mother's voice. His mother had once lived in a pack, but she had told her Dusk child that they needed no one but each other. They had lived on the move, going from on den to another, never resting in the same place long. She had packed herbs that would cover their scent, and they had laughed beneath them as they had sprinkled them on the roads they travelled.
He wondered what it would be like to live in a pack. His mother had been right, he needed no one but her, but she wasn’t here now. He wondered, briefly, if he would miss the golden goddess who had gotten him through the worst days with her brisk manner and rich, rolling accent. She had pulled him from the side of his mother, when otherwise he might never have left. He would have followed her into the darkness of that final sleep. Would that have been a blessing? Should he hate the woman for taking away his chance to die beside her? Perhaps he might have, if his mother’s spirit hadn’t stayed with him after her death.
Reminders of his mother’s spirit made him wonder. She had led him down this path today, she had lead him into the sights of this wolf, was it her will that she go with him now? He was at a crossroads, a time where he could pick one life over another. He hung his head low. He didn’t have enough spirit to chose. Let life take him where it will, it didn’t matter in the end.
This pack would make him strong? A new thought blossomed in his heart, and he lifted his head the tiniest bit, looking at the long legs of the male, he couldn’t raise his head any higher. “Would...” his voice was barely audible, but he plunged on regardless. “Would they teach me to kill?” what other meaning was there in life, if it wasn’t to kill the monsters.
The paw that rested over his shoulder gave him the shakes. He hadn’t had physical touch since his mother. The goddess of the Sands hadn’t been one to offer it, and he hadn’t asked.
He wondered what it would be like to live in a pack. His mother had been right, he needed no one but her, but she wasn’t here now. He wondered, briefly, if he would miss the golden goddess who had gotten him through the worst days with her brisk manner and rich, rolling accent. She had pulled him from the side of his mother, when otherwise he might never have left. He would have followed her into the darkness of that final sleep. Would that have been a blessing? Should he hate the woman for taking away his chance to die beside her? Perhaps he might have, if his mother’s spirit hadn’t stayed with him after her death.
Reminders of his mother’s spirit made him wonder. She had led him down this path today, she had lead him into the sights of this wolf, was it her will that she go with him now? He was at a crossroads, a time where he could pick one life over another. He hung his head low. He didn’t have enough spirit to chose. Let life take him where it will, it didn’t matter in the end.
This pack would make him strong? A new thought blossomed in his heart, and he lifted his head the tiniest bit, looking at the long legs of the male, he couldn’t raise his head any higher. “Would...” his voice was barely audible, but he plunged on regardless. “Would they teach me to kill?” what other meaning was there in life, if it wasn’t to kill the monsters.
The paw that rested over his shoulder gave him the shakes. He hadn’t had physical touch since his mother. The goddess of the Sands hadn’t been one to offer it, and he hadn’t asked.
Astraios is broken, mostly mute, with a death wish