Making Moves

He had asked what was on her mind and for some reason she had actually told him this time. Often Bowen just brushed off her own feelings, saying that she was fine. Everything was always fine externally simply so that she wouldn't have to do... this. Whatever this was. She brushed over the truth, saying everything was okay just so she wouldn't have to see that look on his face. Or anyone's face, for that matter. Mentally, emotionally, Bowen was a mess and she had been for a long time. On the ship, she had been confident. Life had been so simple then. Here, things were much more difficult. She didn't know how to process emotion like a normal wolf and sometimes it bubbled over. Like today.

Bowen hadn't realized how much of a tirade she'd gone on, her words and emotions undulating and shifting like the rise and fall of ocean waves. While she had been speaking, she hadn't heard Artorias say her name once. Only when he grasped her shoulders in a bruising grip, giving her a well needed shake, did she snap back into the present. Celadon eyes widened momentarily as she accepted the jostling, looking up at her exasperated brother. She hated seeing that look on his face. It was why she so often held her tongue. It wasn't right or fair to burden him with her inadequacies. It wasn't his fault that she was an emotional basket case and he shouldn't have to deal with it. There was already so much on his plate. Allowing him to see this side of her and adding to the worries in his life... it just made Bowen feel incredibly selfish.

Artorias spoke fervently, telling her that he would never lose her again. His words held a ferocity within them that made her believe every syllable. The tenacity in his golden gaze shifted to one of sadness and Bowen frowned. That look. A reminder of why she kept these things to herself. The woman's russet ears drooped upon seeing that look. Her brother continued to speak, assuring her that he wouldn't be laying with any other women. Hearing that didn't alleviate her fears, however. She knew how easy it was to get swept away in the undertow of lust. Look at her. She had admitted to him that she could and most likely would be unfaithful. He didn't care about that either, he assured her. Artorias then told her that he wasn't some deity or king and the woman sighed, giving her crown a gentle shake. "But you are. To the wolves that you protect, you are." Bowen locked their gazes. "To me, you are." Was it so difficult for him to believe that she practically worshipped him? He was the sole reason that she even woke up anymore.

Black pads found an ivory cheek and Bowen leaned into them, eyes closing momentarily. He said that he wouldn't change her, but she wished that she could change herself. A moment later, she was standing alone in the room that she had shared with Haiku. The space was as empty now as when she had first chosen it. As empty as when she was living in it. The woman moved to sit at the edge of the bed, her chest pressed against it while one dusky paw reached out to gently stroke the glass orb still laying on the furs. What a mess she was...

Sound from behind brought her looking over one burnished shoulder. Artorias returned, sitting a small wooden box before her. As she slowly opened the case, her brother gave his explanation. The delicate craftwork of the bracer brought a soft gasp from the woman. Her full visual attention was on the gift, but she heard every word that Artorias spoke. He'd made this specifically for her. Bowen wasted no time in sliding the bracer over her right foreleg, tightening the laces at the back easily. She almost felt bad wearing it, as though she wasn't worthy of something so grand. Her heart ached and her throat tightened as though an invisible paw was cutting off her air. In the end, she turned, placed her forehead against his chest, and cried.

"Bowen & Artorias"