till death do us part

"Speech"

Alone. It was all he could think about, every fibre of his being set to the task of examining how definitive and absolute his loneliness was. What he wouldn’t give to have his mother returned to him. The longing to look up into her familiar face, and know that everything would be ok.

Instead, he was left with the impossible task of avenging her. Left waiting, uncertain, for someone who might train him body and might to take on the murderous stranger who had ripped her from him. The woman who had always been quick to smile, to show him the wonders of the world. ‘Look, my little dawn’ she would say, her nose nudging upwards, directing his gaze. ‘its a macaw. Isn’t it beautiful?’ and whatever he she was pointing to, it would always be wonderous and fascinating. More so for the way her voice changed, the wonder in her tone as though she herself saw it for the first time. Every time.

He was so lost in his memories, that he would catch no sign, sight, or sound of the newcomer. He would not know her presence until her muzzle nudged into his fur. He jumped in startelement, backing from her touch. He was no longer accustomed to physical comfort, it was as strange to him as speaking. Stranger perhaps, he had said more words since his mother’s loss, then he had felt touch.

He didn’t waste any now, turning his backing into a rising, his paws firming against the soft ground, his stance cautious, through not afraid. What did he have to fear? He had already experienced the worst loss the world was capable of giving him.he regarded her curious, silent. The blue of his gae tracked the scars the lightened across her face like crackings in wood, or the fine webs of a spider.