We'll fight until you forget who you belong to
Writer
04-09-2020, 03:25 PM
D O V E W H I T E
Had Dove realized he'd been ignored, he might have lashed out again -- as it was, the guilt ate at him, a shivering, quiet man in the place of the rage that had been consuming him. He danced on his paws, anxiety evident as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ghosts he found there to leave and never grace him with their presence again. Sirius' words filtered into pinned ears, and Dove scoffed, the sound bitter and dry as it fell from his lips.
"Yes, Sirius, I have teeth and I can kill things, should the need befall me," he retorted. "I am aware of this, just as you should be so fresh after our hunt." He shook his head, astringent, tart words falling from his lips as he continued. "Did you think, perhaps before your ludicrous plan took shape, did you think to consider that I might have found you eventually for this exact purpose and been a willing participant?" Dove was as mentally unkind to himself as his sisters had once been, though not exactly in the same way. He was aware of what he lacked, when it came to battle, and he was under no impression that he could learn what he needed to learn to defend himself from himself. There was always the possibility that he would have gone to Sirius himself, after that initial greeting, and sought the help he needed.
But it was only that: a possibility. There was no guarantee, Dove thought, that Sirius would have been the teacher he chose. And while that didn't make the other's actions right by any stretch of the imagination, Dove supposed he could understand.
He clenched his eyes shut again, chagrined words on his lips, when Sirius howled. Dove's eyes snapped open, and he looked at the man with horror blatant on his features. "What have you done?"
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
Had Dove realized he'd been ignored, he might have lashed out again -- as it was, the guilt ate at him, a shivering, quiet man in the place of the rage that had been consuming him. He danced on his paws, anxiety evident as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the ghosts he found there to leave and never grace him with their presence again. Sirius' words filtered into pinned ears, and Dove scoffed, the sound bitter and dry as it fell from his lips.
"Yes, Sirius, I have teeth and I can kill things, should the need befall me," he retorted. "I am aware of this, just as you should be so fresh after our hunt." He shook his head, astringent, tart words falling from his lips as he continued. "Did you think, perhaps before your ludicrous plan took shape, did you think to consider that I might have found you eventually for this exact purpose and been a willing participant?" Dove was as mentally unkind to himself as his sisters had once been, though not exactly in the same way. He was aware of what he lacked, when it came to battle, and he was under no impression that he could learn what he needed to learn to defend himself from himself. There was always the possibility that he would have gone to Sirius himself, after that initial greeting, and sought the help he needed.
But it was only that: a possibility. There was no guarantee, Dove thought, that Sirius would have been the teacher he chose. And while that didn't make the other's actions right by any stretch of the imagination, Dove supposed he could understand.
He clenched his eyes shut again, chagrined words on his lips, when Sirius howled. Dove's eyes snapped open, and he looked at the man with horror blatant on his features. "What have you done?"
He walks. "He speaks." He thinks.
Current time: 11-22-2024, 04:28 AM
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