Whittle Away the Time We Have

It was like a wall in her mind, and whenever she got to a certain point it was like hitting it. Like her body said no further! well her conscience could only watch with growing horror. Why was it so hard? Why couldn’t she have just reached out and booped Alastor on the nose, like it was no big deal. So close, and yet so far.

She twitched when she heard him moving, but a discreet glance over her shoulder showed him turning his back to her. She brought her head back around, looking into the cave and away from the black boy.

She wondered what was going through his head. He must think her absolutely bonkers by now. How did normal people even behave, anyway? She hadn’t been around them often enough to understand. She had been so young when He had tossed her world on her head.

Alastor was still moving, his body far nosier on the snow now then it had been on their travels. Her ears pulled backwards, listening. Then she felt something flick across her back. She snapped upright with a zing of alarm, but after sitting there, poised, she realised he had flicked her with his tail. His back to her. A twitch covered her muzzle and she fought back the urge to laugh. What was he doing?

Then she realised. He didn’t know what was wrong, but he was trying. He wanted to help her. Now she was fighting back startled tears. She blinked them free of her eyes and took in a soft breath, almost undone by his simple kindness. “ He is a dead man walking.” she grumbled. Just as soon as she figured out how to put him under ground…

“I was…” Did he really want to hear her tale of woes? But she pushed back her feelings of insecurity, and flicked her tail back at him. [color=#82b7cc] “I was taken from my family when I was… maybe… 6 months old?” she struggled to think back to that day, but it was all a blur now. Her parents' faces were just squiggles in her memory. “He said he couldn’t have kids of his own, and he dearly wanted a little girl to raise. He taught me how to tend a hearth, mix medicines, prepare him meals. Massage his muscles. He wanted a helpful little slave. A punching bag for his aggression” She cringed, as she told Alastor how she had been a complacent little slave girl, obeying the whims of her ‘father’ “He started… he started to talk about how beautiful I was becoming, he liked to touch my face, just under my chin, and compliment himself on raising such a beautiful, obedient child.” her tail flicked with more agitation behind her, almost forgetting that it was hitting Alastor. “He.. well. It reached a point where I realised I had to leave. I didn’t know how to fight, or hunt, or live a life without him. But I wanted to be someone else, anybody else. I reached a point where I didn’t care if it killed me to try” she let out a steady breath. “That last night… was rough, and my mind keeps going back to it. The feel of his hot breath, the roughness of his coat. It’s like… it’s like even now he still has some sort of power over me.” She was glad she was facing away. She didn’t know how she would meet his eyes again. She was no brave little huntress. She was a coward, and now he would know it.

Tears stung her eyes. "I'm over thinking it. I know I am. It's all in my head, if I was just a little braver, just a little more stubborn, I would push past it. I wouldn't let him control me anymore.

"Speech"