i'm told that to be human i must stand still
you can try your hardest, but i never will
She dreams of many things. Many of him, of days long gone. Lost forever to the winds of time (they steal so easily, leaving only memories in their wake). And she wakes. Sometimes when she wakes, it is not where she had slept. Sometimes she is left in the echoes of her memories, wondering if they ever truly existed.
It had been so easy to lose herself. She had once frequently thought she had not been made as they were. Had too often wondered if the wolf had taken her too quickly and too thoroughly. And then she had forgotten to wonder. Had simply forgotten she was anything more.
Today she remembers. She awakens and she remembers. Perhaps it is the scent in her lungs, familiar and nostalgic, tangling in her brain until it knocks loose those forgotten pieces. Firen it whispers. And she knows him. Knows his scent. Knows exactly who he is (or rather who he should be) to her.
She does not question how she had come to be here. Her paws are too quick to press against the leaf litter, her nose too quick to follow an old and nearly faded trail. The soft whuff of her breath and the gentle padding of canine feet against spongy earth are the only sounds of her passing. She loops and winds through the trees, her tenacity unchanged, even after all these years. She does not stop until her steps bring her to the water's edge.
Until the trail grows stale and too distant even for her to follow.
And though she hunts, plunging through the chilly waters to the other side of the river, there is nothing more. She had failed. And failure, such as it is, had always sat poorly with her. Finally, when even she must be forced to concede, she stops. Settling slowly to her haunches, she lifts her gaze to the star-blanketed sky peeking through the branches above. After a contemplative moment, a low, plaintive howl rises from her throat.
An achingly lonely sound, even in the loneliest hour of the morning.
ferran
@[Firen]