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His voice spits denial to my defenses. What had he seen? Why had it involved me? What delusions had he been telling himself? A note is made in the depths of my mind to be much more careful with whom I choose to flirt with. Another gasp of denial, before he squares his body back up, a sneer pulling at his brown lips as he reminds me that he is indeed a warrior, and bigger at that. My ears are pinned close to my head, as I glare at him. "Well, I will have to have a discussion with your supervisor, because I think you need a demotion and a mental evaluation, because something's obviously fucked up in there." The words are slick with venom. I have reached a point beyond caring. I didn't care about the anger and rage that burned in his eyes. They burned right back at him. They challenged him, dared him. Go on crazy boy. Show me your the warrior you profess to be. But he doesn't. He's ranting again, and I want to scream, and tear at the fur on his body. To turn him into a bloody mess of flesh and bone, scattered fur. He had no right to tell me what had been in my womb. I know what had been in there. Glacia had been there. Only Glacia. She was the only one. I know. I remember the pain. I remember that first moment where my heart beat for something besides myself. I remember being willing to die for her, and standing to protect my child against Aviya. To fight despite my weary body. To give my life for what grew inside me, and had only been in the world a few moments. He didn't know this, but I did. I knew it. I knew that any child I bore after, I would feel the same way. I would protect them until my death, and there afterwards. I would remember bearing them. And I know I had only born Glacia from my womb. He stood there panting at me like some dog, his chest heaving heavily, his eyes that of a wild man. It is like this for some time, the only sound from his loud breathing. But I glared with distaste, imagining all the bloody things I could do to him. How I could torture him slowly into death. Until he speaks. Saying I was there, with him, in a place called Etherim. I knew not of this land he spoke of. But he seems to come to a realization. A realization that it hadn't been real, and he goes slack. My ears slowly lift up to look at him. I relax slightly, and I feel bad for him. Whatever I had said... It had hurt. I had hurt him in what ever delusion he had. I had judged him, for things he had done. But it wasn't really me. I wouldn't have judged him based on his past. I judge on character. But despite that I felt sorry for whatever I had done in his head. And so cautiously I move closer, my muzzle reaching out to touch his shoulder, as I sidled closer to him. My face rested against his shoulder and neck, offering comfort for him. I wasn't sure if this is what he wanted. Or even needed. "I'm sorry. Whatever I had said... in your head or not, it must have been awful. And I am sorry for that Rohan." "Speech" Tag;; @Rohan Words;; Notes;; |
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