Walk | Talk | Think
His teal-green eyes continued to wander about, more content now than before, and his smile remained quietly on his lips. Closure. That was what he felt, a peace and understanding about what had happened and where he would go from here. He missed Descant, would always, but that was as it should be. For the moment, everything felt better, everything felt tolerable, and Requiem felt as close to normal as he thought he was going to get.
Until she appeared. The soft, muted colors of the woods were suddenly interrupted by red, and the brown, arrow-marked boy did a double take. His breath caught in his chest, his gaze wide with disbelief and awe as he stared. A red wolf. Not the red wolf - the woman who had brought the cure to Ludicael had been older, and therefore bigger - but another, smaller, possibly even around his own age. She wore the same red pelt, even possessed eyes of a similar shade, and the haughty look about her face spoke of distinction, of power and superiority. She could have been no other than what he thought, what he had grown to believe when the cure had been brought in answer to his prayers. This was one of them. An agent of the divine.
How? How did she come to be here? How did he become worthy enough to be approached by one? He had always supposed his voice to have been tuned out in favor of those older, more experienced than himself. Maybe he had been heard after all. Maybe he was finally gaining recognition. Or maybe...
...it was his own wishful thinking. Realizing he had been holding his breath, Requiem made a quiet gasp, finally breaking out of his awestruck stupor. He began to speak, stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Are you real?" A part of him was so very tempted to touch her, to feel her solidness and know she was real, but that felt like overstepping his place. It was bad enough that he questioned her existence; he did not want to cause anymore offense than he already might have.
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