the night we met
08-07-2019, 02:42 PM
The more Deity watched the silhouettes in the distance, the more they seemed... off, somehow. Their actions were lurch-y, and they didn’t seem to follow any set route, scattering haphazardly in each direction, distractedly moving from place to place... and they did seem small. After she’d howled her presence, they’d frozen briefly before gathering together like magnets. Now they clustered before her, watching closely. The goddess squinted, trying to figure out what exactly two tiny rogues could be doing out here, all alone. Perhaps they were rabid— it would explain their erratic motions. Something nagged at Deity though, some part of her told her this wasn’t the case. That and the fact that she was terribly curious about the situation prodded her to move forward. She did so tentatively, hesitantly placing one paw in front of the other. She kept her head lowered, muscles tensed in case something went wrong and they were indeed rabid. The funny thing was that they didn’t seem to grow any larger despite the distance she crossed. As she slunk forward, she let her tail fall, trying to don an aura of friendliness, to communicate that she meant no harm. She was close now, just close enough to reveal what she hadn’t even considered a possibility: the figures were mere pups. Deity furrowed her brow, confused and concerned, and stopped in her tracks. She straightened up, raising her nose to the sky— she could smell their two scents intertwined, but no hint of a parent nearby. There wasn’t a lingering scent of any adult at all, not in the air and not left on their fur, that she could tell. The goddess was still too far away for her voice to be heard clearly without having to shout. She didn’t want to scare them away, so she decided to just wait and see if they’d approach her. Deity remained standing, but tried to posture herself to seem as friendly as possible. She wanted to find out who their guardian was, and why they weren’t present now. Who would leave their pups alone like this? With a slight pang, she recalled her own parents. Well, what she remembered of them, which wasn’t much. Warm air. A firm tongue running down her back. And the seasons of loneliness. She wasn’t sure what had happened with her parents. There was a wall in her memory, a blurred area that she couldn’t see. It was like a part of her life had been stolen from her, and she was left with only shreds of the past and the present. So, though she wouldn’t admit it, not even to herself, perhaps Deity saw a part of herself in these pups. Perhaps that was what drew her to stop and hope for their approach, instead of turning to leave. |
And so our haloes became collars and golden chains; our proud, shining divinity became the very thing that bound us.