Time is Running Out

The Warlord had been in shock when they had delivered the news to him. It was like his head was under water. Slowing down the world, and drowning out their voices. There had to be a lie somewhere, a cruel joke. Something admiss, anything that meant this wasn’t the truth. A few words stuck out infection and litter. Enough to know that his size and the unusual size of their litter had led to this. That he was physically incompatible with Zee, and their coupling was now her death.

The white noise had lasted until he arrived at their room, when sudden boiling rage had overtaken him. He’d already gone through her death. Through the states of rage and denial and grief. It had almost killed him to lose her the first time. How could he deal with it again? At first he raged. He tore through anything within reach without prejudice. He destroyed wooden toys as he tossed them to the walls, he shoved the bed hard enough to bruise his shoulder and topple it over. He raged like a hurricane, and when he was done he stood there panting and hurting. The pain inside was far greater than the ones on his body. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. Not again. He crumpled to the ground a moment before the door opened, his chest heaved once in what would have been a silent sob, cut off by the sight of her. He had hoped to… to what? To drive himself to exhaustion before he had to face her? To shed himself of the tears he knew would come, so she wouldn’t have to face them?

Too early. She had returned too early. He rose to his feet, haunted and silent as he grabbed her with painful gentleness, pulling her into a hug and resting his head in her fur. “I can’t. I can’t” It came out as a moan.


"Speech"