Whittle Away the Time We Have

She blinked in surprise at the stark honesty she had received to a seemingly innocent question. She could see it in him, that he had had and lost someone. It made him seem a little more real, a little less a ghost or a demon for it. It humanised him. She felt the urge to reach over and pat his shoulder - but no way was she getting that close. Instead she scuffed up some snow in her pad and flicked it at him as they walked. Her lips twitched in an understanding smile. She had lost her whole world when she was kidnapped from her family. She barely remembered their faces.

“Thank you” she said, more genuine and honest then she had been before. Despite herself, she was starting to feel less afraid with him. Perhaps not the safest emotion to feel, but sometimes you couldn’t help yourself.

His demeanor changed, telling her they were closer to their prey. His voice was a soft whisper, giving her instruction. She obediently raised her head to the wind and sniffed softly, keeping herself low. Easier for her then for him. She was already small, and her whites and greys blended in better with the snow then his blacks.

His practiced, confident manner meant more than the color of his pelt, anyway. He looked like he knew what he was doing as he crouched in the snow. She followed him to the bush, having a little more trouble crawling through the snow then he was. It felt a little awkward, but watching him go, she slowly began to mimic him.

True to his word, he began to instruct her. She held his black gaze and listened to the words he spoke. She considered his question for a moment, and then decided. She was smaller, more subtle. It would be easier for her to move around the herd. He was bigger, stronger. The take down would go more smoothly in his paws. “I’ll herd” she whispered. Glancing at him once more in case he had any more instructions for her, before hse started to slip away.

"Speech"