The Grudge

As the tiny figure stood in the doorway, staring at the far off storm clouds brewing, she listened to Roan speak. She had a different view on storms. Well she liked them for different reasons at least. Already, she'd shared so much with the man, despite having spoken little. What was a bit more?

Still leaning against the stone doorway, the skin tucked between her body and the cold rocks, Iolaire spoke. Her voice was soft as though she didn't care if he heard or not. Perhaps she wasn't even speaking to him, but to the storm itself. "I used to be afraid of storms when I was younger. It was a good excuse to curl up with the man that I loved and let him comfort me." A gust of wind blew into the cottage through the open doorway, ruffling the small woman's thick fur. "During each storm we would curl up in the den that we'd built and he would hold me close. He'd tell me over and over that he would always keep me safe." It sounded like a nice story, eh?

"And then he discovered that I was barren. Being unable to bear his pups, that made me less than worthless." She refused to look at the resting man, but continued to speak. "After he gave me to his pack to use and abuse, I had to wait for an opportunity to escape." Lifting her nose, she pointed to the night sky and the far off storm. "I escaped during a storm. The rain washed away my tracks and scent. The thunder muffled my cries." Her snow dipped tail flicked once. "I saw storms differently after that."

As if realizing all that she'd just said, Iolaire's brow furrowed and she tucked her chin momentarily. "Get some rest, Roan." Not wanting to see pity on his face if there wasn't any, Iolaire slid from the dwelling like a ghost, just as the first peals of thunder rumbled the land.