it has come to pass...

“You stupid girl,” the words plummeted from his tongue. Was she so stupid? Or was it ignorance that kept her from knowing the dark and dreary depths of the wolf standing before her. It was the battle of emotions through speech; verbal warfare that would take little energy and in turn wreck more havoc. Nadira listened quietly as the toxicity leaked and poisoned the sweet air. She wondered how far this would go before it would all turn to vapor and blow away with the afternoon breeze. Was it so hard for Osiris to stop trying so hard to protect himself that he pushed everything else that he cared about away? It took more energy to be mad, to frown, than it did to just accept one’s feelings.

But then, hadn’t she been doing the same thing? Hypocrite, she thought to herself. It was so easy to pick out someone else’s faults, especially when they were your own as well. Setting her gaze aside, the cold had subsided some, and her listeners were no longer tense against her skull, but remained facing backward. The battle of wills against two stubbornly strong souls was not a comfortable place to be, and Nadira felt bad for the cowering dragon upon the wolf’s back. Poor Comadre did not deserve this, but she couldn’t help feel that Osiris needed to be checked of his temper and not feel free to throw words around to protect himself while in the act hurting others.

“Am I not the one who has robbed you?” His question pulled at her heart strings. Robbed me? Of what? She asked herself. Confusion replaced the cold bitterness, and she raised her crown to bestow her gaze upon him. His long wolf like limbs, paws that devoured more space than her dainty cloven hooves. She was lucky it was warm where she stood; otherwise she would have replaced her alabaster canvas on land.

What have you robbed me of, Osiris? Taken of me in what shape? You led me to the safety of the Foothills when I first came. You guarded me from more harm during the Boggart invasion, and you chose to stand aside, as I did, when the Foothill’s meadow became a blood bath. What have you taken from me that it has tainted you so?

She let her piercing inquiry slither from her tongue. Accusations did nothing but cause trouble and brought dismay and distraught emotions. She may look younger, still yet, but had the wolf-horse not grown accustom to her knowledgeable and wise understandings of someone two centuries her age? In agitation, she flicked her tassels at her flanks wondering how damaged this being before her stood. She knew of betrayal like the back of her hoof, like her best friend, but had he also experienced betrayal like she had. Then why was she fighting so hard to get his approval when she did the same thing to Tharos. Was she that twisted, or was it fear that overrode her emotions.

It might take more energy to protect oneself from hurt, while in the meantime creating the other to be hurt. But it didn’t mean it was hard to do. Maybe it was easier to run from your problems than to face them. And if that were the case, then how could she expect to win this argument if she herself would not own up to the mixed emotions that ran rampant within her over both souls. One who denied her, and one who fought for her? Was this not a twisted plot to make her go mad? Collecting all her emotions, she tied them tightly, bound them together and threw them in a locked chest, buried beneath her soul. She had one task at hand right now, and to be side tracked would do her no good. If the object was to at least free Osiris of his spell, at least she could try and do that much. Though she couldn’t do anything if he wasn’t willing.

Monsters should be respected for what and who they are and not to be pestered or provoked. No beast or living soul should ever be caged.

With these words, a hurt filled passion flooded her jeweled façade. Harsh recollections consumed her memory of her time on earth. What a horrible way to live.

A beast who is caged builds hate, but it’s soul deteriorates, while beautiful creatures are cursed and hunted down. A monster and a beautiful creature cannot ruin each other, only the world around them can do such harm.

She moved closer to Osiris until her crown came to barely meet the wolf’s muzzle. She could feel the warmth of his breath warm her and insulate her inner core from hardening, fragile as it was. She desperately wanted to reach out to the little dragon that had perched itself on Osiris’s back, but restrained herself. She waited for some type of change, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. She could feel each inhale and exhale like it was her last, as her heart pounded and ravaged against her chest. Only then did one ear take a gander and hesitantly tried to face forward. What would the outcome be?