Spare Ribs

She worked quietly (surprisingly) on the pieces of bone she had when Wren spoke. "My mother," her ears perked, the woman briefly glancing at the earthen wolf as she continued to work. "she bit and denied me food sometimes. A lot of time, actually. I was small and weak. I wasn't good for anything to her, so she named me Wren like the bird. She thought birds were weak and useless." She would glance at Wren again, her work going a little slower as she continued to listen. She gnawed on the ends of a couple of pieces of bone, placed them where she wanted, strapped them down with some leather, glued pieces here and there with some sort of adhesive she had stolen (hell if she knew what it was, but it definitely made things stick together), and she worked quietly. Slowly. As Wren told her story.

She didn't particularly like what she was hearing. And although she didn't appear like the sharpest tool in the shed, she wasn't stupid. She understood things, and as Wren told her story, she understood her pain. And when Wren finished her story, Medusa remained quiet for a minute or two. She stopped what she was doing and moved to press her nose into Wren's shoulder this time, if she was allowed. A gesture of attempted comfort like Wren had done for her just moments earlier. She sat back then, a look of understanding in her usually wild eyes. "Mm..." She began, though paused for a moment. "Medusa understands Wren's...hurt." She licked her lips as her head began to tic a little. She had never really told anyone her own story, nor how she came to be who she was today. But did it matter anymore? She was who she was. But still...the sane, empathetic part of her wanted Wren to know she wasn't entirely alone.

"Medusa was...very young when her mother left her to die. The little bit of time that her mother was there, well...Medusa remembers nothing but meanness and cold from her. She left Medusa to die before even teaching her how to hunt, and Medusa did not know her dad when she was little, but...she sees him now, in her dreams. Azazel said that Medusa's...dam... forced herself on him when he was not right in the mind, and made him give her pups. Medusa is one. She took the other. Medusa's dad is dead, but...he has been teaching and helping in her dreams. Azazel has been helping Medusa survive in Habari...telling her that she is stronger than she thinks. Stronger than the Habari that tries to break her spirit."

She took a deep breath as she thought about her life up until now. "She survived on rotten meat and scavenging leftovers growing up. She knew nothing about packs or how anything worked. Medusa is not like most wolves...everyone calls her dumb and stupid and says things like I should just die because she talks differently and does things differently. But Medusa isn't stupid or dumb. Azazel said it's because she didn't have anyone to teach her how to do things. Medusa has feelings. She sees things differently and knows when someone wants to hurt her. She can hunt now, and do things she didn't know before because of nice wolves she has met, or because of Azazel in her dreams."

She grinned at Wren, "Medusa has found some nice wolves that she likes as friends. Including you! Medusa won't abandon Wren. Even though Medusa is a slave right now, she won't abandon Wren. Medusa didn't know love or kindness either, but she has been learning. She...loves...Wren. She is a friend. Wren shouldn't feel bad about someone who hurt her. Medusa thinks it was good...what you did...so that nobody else would feel the way you did." And had Medusa been in her shoes, she would have done the same.

She settled back on the ground and offered a soft smile, "Medusa is sorry about the pups...but...Medusa is sure they know Wren tried. That Wren cared," She glanced up at the sky, tail lightly thumping the ground, "Medusa thinks the good dead watch us. Pups are up there watching Wren, like Azazel watches Medusa and talks to her in her dreams. He can't help Medusa fight Habari, but he helps her get better so one day, she can." She finished with a firm nod, believing in everything she said.









"Speech!"

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