Because Of You
08-03-2013, 12:21 PM
Cut me loose
My parachute won't let me fall Don't be afraid of a chance for a miracle
The little bird held her ground as the male turned to face. She didn?t worry about any sort of violence to herself. There didn?t seem to be any threat of it; not any longer. She had hoped he would change. Once or twice she had prayed he would change. A little while ago, when she had reached the top of that snowy peak and peered past the treeline, she would?ve said that those prayers had gone unanswered. And then this? Suddenly he had stopped, he?d stepped back, he?d even sunk down into the snow and then ran. Something was going on here that the girl just couldn?t wrap her mind around. Apparently the male could change, then ? but it wasn?t he himself making him change? it was her. Or at least? she was the start of it. For a girl who always put others first, it was strange to suddenly have that kind of importance thrust upon her. The full meaning of the realization didn?t come to her until the male?s words reached her ears; ?My little medic?; But the words themselves didn?t say nearly as much as their tone did. It was enough to set her heart racing. Not like it had before, when they'd first met and she'd thought her days at an end, no, though the beat was perhaps the same speed, it was a very different emotion that sent it pumping now. It was the sort of feeling that inspired gentleness, and concern, and protection - the things that the healer readily gave to all who need her help. But this was different. This was... more. She couldn't explain except that what was going through her head sounded like something out of the tales her family told her. Love. Oh, this was still puppy love by most wolfs' standards, of course, but it was bigger than anything she'd felt. And it was more painful too; Because that's what it means to love a flawed creature. This-this was enough to make her lungs burst. She'd just seen him torturing - on the verge of killing an innocent wolf - and yet those same bloody lips were telling her that he cared for her? What was she supposed to make of that? Her posture hadn't changed. Her tail was still stiff and low, her ears were back, and her eyes were still softly glowing in the gloom of the caverns. She still wasn't trembling, even though Creator knew she half felt like shivering into a heap. She couldn't figure this out! She didn't know what it meant! How could a wolf act so totally different so quickly? How could she still believe in him? There rang that old voice in her head that she barely knew him. That she was just a girl who knew nothing of the outside save the for a handful of old stories. And what were those things supposed to teach her?! ...Well... for starters, they'd made it clear that sometimes there were saints, and sometimes there demons, and then there were the good wovles who turned bad... But could bad wolves also turn good? It was rare, oh so very, very rare, but Orica knew it had happened. Of course, when its a story, you already know the ending. You don't have to ask what it all means, because in the end it's clear. This was real, this was here and now, where a monster was learning the pain that came with putting someone else above the value of your own desires and urges. And where little girl in a cave had to make sense of powerful things beyond her comprehension. At last the blue eyes bunched and blinked - words being knit together behind them. The healer's voice came out soft and hushed, and her chin quivered as she stared up at Demyan. "...What are you?" |
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