Altavro Of The Nomads

Golden paws carried the male across the sands, and Altavro was struck by how vastly different certain parts of Alacritia were from one another. The deserts, which had been full to the brim of sand, were a far cry from these sandy expanses of beach. The water seemed to cool the air, and the salty breeze brought fresh scents for Altavro to sample every few seconds. The male seemed to be content here, or as content as he could be in a foreign land. Nothing about Alacritia had really begun to strike him as a place in which he could settle down, and Altavro had criss-crossed most of the east and west of it during the season he had spent there. He had visited the desert - and gotten lost there. He had visited a pack, infuriated an (admittedly pretty) Alpha, and now he was here. Altavro wasn't entirely sure where 'here' was, to be entirely honest. The sandy expanse and the large bay were nothing familiar, though Altavro knew of few landmarks. But with no home to go to, did it really matter if he was lost? Though the lack of a densite didn't bother the male, and the freedom offered by being alone was pleasant, the golden wolf had found himself getting actually lonely every once in a while. He had not healed a single injured wolf during his time here, which made him wonder, more than any other part of his loner life, if he had made a bad decision in leaving the Nomads. He had learning nothing new about the arts of healing and had used none of his knowledge to assist others who were less fortunate. Guilt was a mostly unfamiliar emotion to the male, but he was feeling it more often here than he ever had before. After all, he had spent most of his life training. And now that his training was completed and he was on his own, Altavro wasn't sure what to do with himself. He could sleep in late (though Altavro was mostly an early riser), and wander where he willed, and sure, he enjoyed it, but Altavro was starting to wonder if he needed something. This introspection ensured that he was oblivious to the scents and sounds of another wolf, should any others be in the area. And all the while, as Altavro thought, he plodded mechanically on, legs carrying him smoothly across the crystalline sands of Fontamo Bay.

HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T SAY A WORD nevermind that noise you heard The light of a soft sun that settled upon the far reaches of the sea seemed to spur a golden touch out against the waves. A golden glow that filled the land and sky both and the touch of a rainbow seemed to be upon the horizon. To the wolf who watched the alluring shades of fading colour it seemed that its brilliant lightwas never ending. And that just beyond the horizon of sight, lying amongst the stars would sit a shape so familiar to her she could have etched his face for every detail in the sand. Her paws moved, and her eyes seemed to indicate a surprise for this simple movement. It was so lovely! How the very world around her seemed to slip past her with a few sweeping movements of her strong, lean legs. It was a wonder that captivated until she was moving faster, and faster, and in no time she was running. Lean legs and long strides swallowed away the surroundings until it was a blur against her own eyes. Even though she barely seemed to control her own movements, they were agile and beautiful in fluidity. Each space of her stride was even and almost purposeful. Yet, when her eyes slipped closed ? to properly enjoy the strange feel of the wind whipping across her face and smothering along her hair ? everything went topsy-turvy. It was like the world couldn?t stand to watch her move by and not make a movement of its own. Everything changed and up became down, the lady wolf found herself lying in the fine sand, blinking open her eyes once more. What wasn?t clear to her fragile mind, was that when she closed her eyes her mind could no longer see where she was going. It was not the world moving around her, it was simply her paws slipping, tripping on the ground and bringing her down against the firmness of the sand. Her front paws would stretch out and feel against the ground. Child-like wonder, awe across her face at the course, yet soft feel of the sand the claws of her front paw. If she ground it together it was like a solid shape between her paw and the earth, yet when her claws of her paw un-grasped it slid to the ground, free of restriction. A soft laugh would escape her lips, a wondrous sound so soft in her unspoiled tones. She would lie there, in the sands of time, oblivious the world around her until the rising tide would spread its water to touch the tips of her back paws and submerge her full, fluffy tail. Still she did move, as with each rise the water spurred ever closer to her unmoving form.

Altavro Of The Nomads

The laughter was entirely missed by the oblivious male, whose thoughts were still focused entirely inwards. In fact, Altavro didn't notice the presence of another until he had all but tripped over her. The feminine scent that he was just now picking up on was rather strong, and Altavro found himself blinking as he looked around curiously, only to spot the wolf that lay sprawled out in the surf mere inches from his front paws. Altavro jumped a little at that, nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. It was hard to pick up on much around the scent of the water, but the white figure was definitely female. And quite possibly dead. She wasn't even twitching as the water lapped at her paws and tail, which spurred the wolf to pad a few steps closer, attempting to nose the figure that lay sprawled in the sand. "Miss?" Altavro's voice was careful as he drew back, regardless of whether or not his muzzle connected with her body. "Are you alright?" What a stupid question. If she was really dead or comatose, she wasn't going to answer. And yet, if he wasn't mistaken, her chest was rising and falling, which certainly ruled out death. But she could still be comatose. Or asleep. Or any manner of not-alright. It was, however, equally possible that she was just fine and laying in the sand just for fun. The wolves of this land made no sense. Ears pricked in the other wolf's direction, Altavro allowed his gaze to wander just a little. He wasn't sure what was going on with her, but staring at her wasn't going to change anything, and if the other needed any medical attention, he was going to need to be able to locate the closest place to find any applicable herbs. It was unlikely that he'd find much growing in the immediate vicinity, but Altavro's gaze scanned the horizon anyways. This kind of thing always seemed to happen in the most inopportune places. Couldn't wolves get hurt in slightly more convenient places? Did they have no sense of common courtesy?

HUSH LITTLE BABY DON'T SAY A WORD nevermind that noise you heard The feel of warm breath and cold nose against her coat caused her to amit another sweet peel of laughter. She would roll against the sand until her back was against it and her paws to the air. That simple, blissful delight would form her smile as her front legs would paw at the air before her, searching for the nose that had touched her just before. Her expression would only now however latch onto him and she would tilt her head in wondermeant as she took him in. Still, she ignored the water that even now lapped against her side and soaked her coat with its cool, salty touch. She had attention only for him now, her eyes looking deeply into his as through with the mere force of her gaze she could look into his soul. With an expression that had gone still with her penitrating gaze, she suddenly burst into another round of sweet, childish laughter. She squealed with it for a moment, her gaze never leaving his. ?Polly wanna cracker?? She asked in her own following silence, her expression had never moved from his face since the first moment she looked at him, and her maw would hang open now, her breathing rich against her coat. ?Big yellow Polly can't have a cracker!? She said now, her flailing paws mving to catch against his coat now, she wanted to touch him to feel the yellow texture of his coat and see if would be the soft deepenss of fur or the smooth touch of feathures she would feel at the touch. There was no clarity, no reality in her eyes. They where a deep pool of shocking emptiness, if they where eyes to her soul or the life inside of her, it was like there was simply nothingness beneath her unwavering gaze.

Altavro Of The Nomads

The white female took a moment to react to his question, but when she did, well, Altavro found himself even more confused than ever. She was staring at him, gaze locked on his form, and Altavro shuffled his paws uncomfortably as the seconds grew out and still said nothing - and then that laugh. Altavro's ears pricked in her direction, but still he remained silent as she laughed joyously. It was a refreshing sight to see such happiness, but he wasn't sure what had spurred it. Was he that funny? He had only been trying to check on a potentially dead wolf - who was still laying in the surf, not reacting at all to the water. How weird. Polly? His name definitely wasn't Polly. But the 'big yellow polly' certainly described him. Altavro remained silent, confusion painted across his features as her paws caught against his fur, blank gaze still fixed on his eyes. "My name is Altavro?" His statement was unsure; Altavro was quite caught off guard by this female's antics. "Not Polly. Are you alright?" He went back to his previous statement, examining the white figure for any exterior wounds. There were no obvious wounds on her body, but there could be internal injuries or something that he could not see immediately. Altavro was walking on eggshells around this wolf, unsure of what was going through her mind, but still determined to help her if she needed help. He was a Nomad, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like a communication barrier stop him if she was injured, which was still his best explanation for why she was lying in the sand like a dead wolf. At least he knew for sure that she wasn't comatose anymore. "What's your name?" His tone was a little bit more brisk than it had been when he first reached out to her - Altavro was still determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, and the cryptic comments weren't helping him figure out what was wrong.

Her face was stretched into laughter, the giggles soft on her tongue and her eyes luminescent, large orbs. She could barely contain her glee as her Polly looked down at her. Her eyes, however, where oddly serious. He had spoken again at his words where a hum against her skull. She couldn't find herself, the terrible moments of reality where few and far between, and the was no clarity in her eyes, everything held a surreal glean that seemed only normal and past her ability to grasp. ?My name is Alaterverio? she declared, dragging out syllables and throwing in some new ones at her pleasure. ?Your my Polly? She declared, as through this was an irreversible fact, cutting through his words as he tried to declare himself not Polly. A strange flash of anger seemed to spur beneath her empty orbs and she set her teeth, glaring up at him. ?Polly.? She said sharply.

However, as she asked also if she was alright the clouds seemed to dissipate and the sun shone again within her features in light. ?Right. Right as rain? She declared, and, with a request for her name repeated herself in a patient tone. ?Al-a-ter-veri-o? She declared once more. She shuffled her back against the sand, feel the coolness of the water rush against her. It swept under all her body now and touched against the underside of her head. From here, it would only get deeper for her with every ripple of the water. Still, she ignored it, looking up at him with her wide, empty eyes.

Altavro Of The Nomads

He was starting to suspect that there was something seriously going on with this female, something beyond Altavro's expertise. He was a healer of the physical body, not the mind. Illnesses of the mind were far beyond Altavro's ability to help, as much as he might desire to. At any rate, her name was certainly not Alataverior or whatever she had said. "That's literally just my name with a little extra thrown in." Altavro grumbled, half to himself and half to the female who stared at him with her blank gaze. But when her fangs came dangerously close to forming a snarl, Altavro backed down quickly. "All right, all right. I'm Polly." Distaste touched the last word, but Altavro was no fighter and felt no desire to get involved in violence with a wolf such as this. He could not justify even attempting to fight a wolf acting in this manner; there was obviously something affecting her outside of her realm of control. Which meant that he was going to need to walk on eggshells for a little while, a serious difficulty for the crotchety wolf. When his pelt was on the line, however, Altavro could shape up pretty quickly, to say the least. Right as rain? As if. There was no way this was the natural state for a wolf to be in. She was staring like she didn't see anything, which was weirder than many things Altavro had seen in his years, and he had seen some strangeness. Perhaps not enough to prepare him for this female, but he was giving it a valiant attempt. Mostly because he didn't fancy getting his fur shredded or anything like that. "Enjoying the water?" Altavro would question with a flick of his tail, amusement touching his tone. There was something to be said about the happy way she rolled in the sand. Strange acting or not, Altavro was kind of glad she was enjoying herself.

ooc: oh gosh, i'm really sorry about that!! I hope this works better and yeah i'm sorry. I am very derpy sometimes ;;

Her eyes still watched him, and as he grumbled beneath his breath about his name and hers there was (for the first time) a deceivingly intelligent twinkle in her eyes, an expression of mirth and merriment as he agreed with her and called himself Polly. A self-satisfied smirk would take hold across her lips as she appraised him. Everything about Albatross was unpredictable, to her emptiness, to the light of intelligent, to her anger and harshness or angelically sweet compassion, she was everything rolled into one and chaotically as unpredictable as all that sounded. This was her state of insanity, this was the madness she had been driven to and the being that took hold of her more often than her once true-nature ever could.


?Mm? she mused, in clearly pleased tones, rolling the humm about her mouth like she tasted something fine against her lips. ?My Polly? she agreed, clearly soothed as her eyes rolled up to him and her tongue lolled from her mouth as she continued to appraise him. ?Polly really wants a cracker? she sighed as she pulled herself from the grip of the sea and standing, shook out the droplets in a cascade of salty sea as she stood across from him and eyed him with a serious expression once more, like he was a mystery of the universe. Her transfixed expression did not move until she darted forward to attempt to touch her forehead to his with a surprisingly nimble movement. She would pull away every bit as quickly and a grin would transform her delicate features yet again ?Bop!? She declared and with a giggle she pranced against the water, dancing within its cool embrace.

Altavro Of The Nomads

The wolf seemed pleased by his acceptance of the new name, so Altavro shrugged a little, tail wagging cautiously as he examined the white female. My Polly? He wondered internally at the statement, but after a moment he let it roll off his shoulders. There was no point in getting too worried about it. At the rate he was going, he was going to end up getting his ears shredded and he would generally like to avoid that. "I do?" This was getting really confusing. He wasn't particularly sure what it meant that he wanted a cracker, but it took him a moment to just shrug again. That was rapidly becoming his go to response when this female (he was pretty sure that Alta-whatever wasn't actually her name) was concerned. With that, however, the female was on her paws, lifting herself up from the surf and staring fixedly him. Altavro stiffened under the stare, biting his tongue on a comment roughly to the affect of 'What are you looking at?' But there was no use in saying anything, and for the moment, he was on his best behavior. They remained silent, gazing solemnly at each other until she leaped into motion, her head brushing against his before she moved back. He stiffened a little at the touch, head cocking slightly as she moved happily, a rapid change from her earlier mentality. How odd. "Is this tag?" Confusion colored the wolf's words as he examined her, ears pricked in her direction as he waited for her to react. Would she lash out again? That was really what Altavro was worried about - he wanted to get out of here with his pelt intact, after all. The female's wild mood swings were throwing him off his game a little bit, for Altavro was certainly not used to dealing with wolves like her. But he wasn't sure that anyone really was - she seemed like she would be something different every moment of every day. Maybe it was just with him though. Maybe he brought out the crazies in her. That would be his luck.

The cool embrace of the water would wash against her legs and splash against her underbelly with her frolics within its bulk, clearly she seemed to enjoy its touch against her. For a moment it almost seemed as through she had forgotten the brute that stood before her, suffering her antics. But as she stilled the void within her eyes would dim, and she would cock her head to the side, appraising him with a puzzled frown. ?Polly?? she would say, this time fraising it as a question, pausing again as through she was trying to remember something that stood at the tip of her tongue. Finally, after a moment of silence she would begin again. ?Polly? Thats an awfully strange name you know, makes me wonder what on earth your parents where thinking? Her voice was oddly controlled, her eyes appraising him with some level of intelligence behind those silver eyes. It was as through a soul had sparked to life there, that added a new dimension to her being that simply had not been there before.

Altavro Of The Nomads

Oh, for the love of everything that was holy! Altavro's eyes practically bugged out of his skull when the female spoke next, and the utter confusion on his features would have surely amused him had it been on any other wolf. "Are you serious?" Altavro huffed, ears flicking irritably as he eyed the female. Had something changed about her? He thought something might have, but Altavro couldn't quite put his paw on it, and he was a little too cranky to really try to figure out what was different. "You were the one who called me Polly!" Though he didn't raise his voice, Altavro was definitely a little grumpier than he had been moments earlier. Still, the wolf took a deep breath, trying to remember that this wolf was potentially crazy - he was feeling distinctly less charitable now that she had decided that the name she had given him was 'strange.' Hmph. He'd have her know that his name was actually a very solid, proper name. Good for a Nomad such as himself. "Altaraverioar or whatever is a pretty weird name too." He grumbled under his breath, eyeing this female balefully. What was she going to call weird next, his pelt? Altavro liked both his pelt and his name, and even though she wasn't calling his actual name weird, Altavro took the comment to heart.

The comical expression of confusion would flood his face as he looked at her now, and she would tilt her head, appraising him back. She found herself with thoughts in her head for the first time in possibly weeks as she wondered is he was a simpleton. He couldn't seem to comprehend the thoughts of parents, and naming. She considered telling him as much before his own words broke out in what seemed like anger, as he asked her is she was serious She smoothed the laughter off her face putting the expression of thought and seriousness there, in a frown and pinched cheeks to let him know that she was definitely 'serious'. Her eyes, of course, where laughing at him.

He accused her now of naming him Polly, and she would roll those laughing eyes at him as he put on the grump. ?Truly, I am not old enough to be your mother dear, so don't go blaming me? she would scold him, and there was the possible insult of age within those words, by they where hardly the matter at hand here. ?Yes, that does sound like a weird name, and I'm so glad we've established that? She would tease this strange brute, god only knows why he was throwing words like 'Altaraverioar ' as her, maybe to imply that his name 'polly' wasn't as strange as that.

ooc: albatross is literally perfection oh my goodness <3

Altavro Of The Nomads

Altavro relaxed only slightly when the laughter faded from the face of the wolf that stood before him. His eyes remained narrowed, but most of the anger melted from his frame. This wolf, holding a serious conversation with him, was a far cry from the wolf that he had been faced with just moments ago. Maybe she was just crazy. That was probably it - he had thought that maybe there was something going on with her earlier, after all, and this rapid personality change certainly supported that thought. It didn't make it any less irritating to deal with, however. She was definitely making fun of him, and it made Altavro bristle, and he continued to glower in the direction of the female as she spoke with a playful edge to her words. This wasn't funny! He'd been dealing with craziness earlier, and now she was acting like he was the crazy one! "My mother gave me a perfectly normal name, I'll have you know." The wolf sniffed irritably, ears twitching irritably as he continued to glare in her direction. Why, this was absolutely ridiculous! He wasn't going to have this youngster laughing at him like he was the weird one. That was unacceptable. "So you admit that your name is weird?" His voice was huffy, but for the first time, Altavro was beginning to relax. He was still feeling grumpy, but there was nothing to be done about that, was there? Altavro was always grumpy, after all. But this female didn't seem to mean any harm, and it probably wasn't her fault that she was so weird. Which she definitely was.

Albatross would shake her head in mock exasperation as the brute spoke again, declaring that his mother had given him a perfectly fine name. Perhaps it had been rude of her to mock his name so readily, but there was something about him that seemed to make him fair game to her teasing. It was something about his seriousness, she thought, as she continued appraising him. The longer she looked at him the longer a headache seemed to bloom at the back of her mind. For that matter, she barely even remembered him approaching her ? did she know him from somewhere? She felt like she was missing something, and it was on the tip of her thoughts, but the more she reached for it, the more it eluded her.

?There?s nothing weird about Albatross, in fact I?ve always rather liked it even if it is a bit of a mouthful? she declared, stretching out, feeling the soles of her feet soaking in the cool of the water, and the salt itch against her coat. She shivered and moved a few paces to stand instead on the subtle warmth of the sand. ?I don?t know you from somewhere do I?? she asked at last.

Altavro Of The Nomads

Albatross? Altavro sputtered a little at that, his blue eyes practically bulging as he stared at the white female. She had definitely said what her name was earlier, hadn't she? And it had been some strange jumble of sounds and letters all too similar to the name he'd offered. He'd suspected that that hadn't been her real name, but Albatross? Could he take this at face value and assume that that was actually her name? Altavro wasn't entirely sure what to think, and he didn't like feeling like he'd been fooled. "Well if you're so fond of Albatross, maybe you shouldn't introduce yourself as Altraverior or whatever." Grumpy as ever, Altavro pinned his ears back for a moment to properly glare at the lighter colored female. Ugh. Women these days - they were crazy, he was certain of it. The next question threw him off a little, but Altavro was starting to think that maybe he shouldn't take anything this female had to say too seriously. Maybe he should learn to let it roll off his fur like water off a duck's fur. But that was far too easy. "I doubt it," Altavro muttered irritably, "As far as I know this is the first conversation we've ever had." And probably their last, at the rate this was going. Altavro really didn't enjoy feeling like people had pranked him. But he didn't mind the latter part of this conversation, at least, and Albatross or whatever her name really was wasn't terrible company at least. More respectful than many he'd met over his years - or at least, right now she was. Altavro was definitely going to have to keep on his toes though. She might go back to acting like she had been earlier any moment now.

As Altavro spoke again she would look at him, utterly perplexed. introduce myself as Altraverior? she mused, her eyes appraised him again and not for the first time found herself wondering if he was insane. ?I dont have the first clue what your on about, dear Polly? she admitted, and the look she levelled at him would display her uncertainty of his hold on sanity in this world. Her own expression would be met with a glare of his own, and an impish smile would creep back into her eyes. She had no idea why he was getting so upturned and frustrated so quickly, but was certain it was something she was doing ? and she loved it.

He would explain now that this was the first conversation they had had, and she would peer at him, feeling a moment of confusion. She was certain there was something familiar about him, so certain... Her eyes where almost slits as they studied him intently, but she would groan and stop as a pounding started in her head, as through dark corners in her mind where better left alone. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, feeling oddly lost, and young and confused. Her eyes would find his again, and another bewildered expression would be in her eyes. ?I had pups...? was all she could rasp out, before she sank to the sand in a sudden wave of depression.

The wolfess looked all too amused for Altavro's tastes, and he was getting rapidly tired of being called Polly - though to be fair, he'd never enjoyed it in the first place. "My name is Altavro," The golden wolf huffed, shooting her yet another irritated glance. He was distinctly unimpressed to see her look like she was fighting back laughter, but bit his tongue on anything unduly snappy when she looked at him once more, this time looking more confused than before. Stepping forward cautiously, Altavro was more out of his depth than ever before when Albatross staggered a little, stopping in her sharp examination of him to groan. She was confused looking, her expression mirroring how he felt in that moment, and Altavro cocked his head a little, mouth half-open to ask her if she was all right. But she definitely wasn't, so that would be a waste of a question. Albatross' simple statement didn't really clear things up either. She had pups? Presumably that meant that they were dead, but he probably shouldn't say anything about that. Jesus, women were ridiculous. What was he supposed to do? Altavro was not one of the gods that he followed so loyally, and he could not bring back wolves from the dead - if that was even what had happened. Maybe they'd just grown up and left the nest and maybe Albatross was just overreacting a little (or a lot, really). "I'm sorry, Albatross." For the moment, his grumpiness with her jokes or pranks or whatever the hell had happened was forgotten in the wake of her revelation. He still had no idea what to say or do, but he was a healer, and no healer enjoyed seeing pain like this. "Can I help?" The question was a simple one, but Altavro knew already that there were no herbs that could assist in the healing of a mind. He could put her to sleep, perhaps, or numb her to the world, but that would not help her in the long run. But maybe there was something he could do to help, even if this woman insisted on calling him Polly and oh gods, now he felt bad for her. Speech,

He would give to her his name before she collapsed, but it had barely registered into her mind, but to muse over it for a moment with a feeling of recognistion and cast it aside for a later time. She had sunk to the earth, a sudden wave of memories had stormed her mind, too quickly for her to seperate and examine, she felt a wave of loss over most of those that flooded her. It was the memory of pups that took the biggest root within her now, that she was able to pause over and recall, their birth as still borns her feeling of regret and self hate for her failure to save them.


She had almost forgotten the brute was there, that there was sand beneath her paws and the sun upon her back. She was losing herself in the memory and the walls where rising inside of her again, threatning to push out her sanity and allow her the sweet bliss of insanity. But her name would push through her pain and ground her, and Altavro was there. She would look up at him, and he would ask her what he could do.


?I... I dont know. I feel like i've lost so much, sitting at the tip of my memory and evading me before I can examine it? she whispered, already wishing she had given in to the insanity, but her eyes would look up into his. He had stopped it, the insanity, and know what she was left with, this lose and sadness, that was all on him. ?Why did you stop me?? it was almost a moan.

Altavro cast a plaintive glance at the heavens, the realm of the god Sol that he so often sent a quick thought to during times of trouble. But the god in his chariot remained distant and so Altavro was left on his own, entirely out of his league with an upset female that had definitely been messing around with him earlier. Women these days. For all his grumpiness, Altavro still felt bad for her. She was clearly upset, and in pain and there was nothing that he could do to help her and crotchety or not, Altavro wanted to help her. He never would have stuck with the Nomads if he didn't want to help wolves in pain. But Altavro was an expert in sicknesses and injuries of the body, not the mind. Ears twitching, Altavro held Albatross' gaze with his own as she spoke. He wasn't used to being this helpless. He wanted to help, but none of his training with the Nomads had prepared him for this. "Maybe it will come to you when you're ready?" Of course, there was always the possibility that she had forgotten for a reason, and she would never be ready. But the mind was not Altavro's specialty and he half felt like a fish out of water, flopping around uselessly and probably doing more harm than good when it came down to it. He wasn't sure why he felt like this was his fault, seeing as there was no way that he could have foreseen this happening, but he did, and he wanted to help and he didn't know how. "I stopped you?" The blank question escaped Altavro before he really knew what he was saying, but the golden wolf backtracked as quickly as he could. "Hey, it's gonna be okay Albatross." Whatever the 'it' in question was. Crap, he really had no place to say that things were going to be okay when he had no idea what was going on. But the typical assurances of a healer would do him no good here, not that he really used them. Altavro was normally entirely honest, even brutally so, but what was there to do now but make an empty promise? He couldn't do much else, really. Speech,

The girl was swamped with a sudden feeling of inability, helplessness loss and that all the things wrong with her world threatened to drown her. This was what her life had become, from the first step of sweet bliss and insanity, to the confusion of reality before the memories, the pain and the need to push herself away from her body, to become ethereal with the world and no longer grounded to her pains. It was an endless cycle, a movie on repeat with no way out and no way to save herself? until now. The cycle had been broken, and now so was she, as one must further break before the road to recovery.

Her pleading eyes would be forced upon him, as she lay in a helpless broken heap at his paws. He would speak again, and she clung to his words in the futile hope that there could be something within them to save her. He told her that it would come to her when she was ready, and she greedily filled herself with his words. The fleeting doubts what if I can?t take it, what if there too terrible for recollection or what if I?m too broken for them to return would be cast aside, too afraid for her to face them. Then his assurances would face, his face would be a blank mask of uncertainty at a question would slip his muzzle. She would peer at him through half litted eyes, wondering why her saviour could doubt himself, and that in his doubts she would lose herself again.

But then he would return to his certainties, his voice sure as he told her that it would be okay, and again her name was uttered from his tones, grounding her, reminding her. ?You?ll save me?? she needed to know he could, for she knew that in all her time lost she had never managed to save herself.