"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Just stay away from the white light. I'd say your worst side's your best side.
Deep breath. I can do this. I can respect the goddamn line no matter how much I want to drag him into me and wrap myself around him and claim every little bit of him. Even if my heart is racing just because he's next to me, even if I want to melt into him and trail my lips over the line of his shoulder, the curve of his neck, the plane of his cheek—fuck, okay, distraction. The kid, focus on the kid. I ruffle his little mane, and he doesn't even twitch, he's crashed so hard. That was a lot of learning to cram into such a short period of time, but he loved every minute of it and I bet he'll wake up hungry for more.
The maternal pride that washes over me is safer than everything else I'm fighting not to fall into, so I hold onto it, stroking my nose along his neck. Clever little demon. I'm going to have a hell of a time keeping up with him. I wonder if his voracious appetite for knowledge includes exploring. That's something I could share with him, if so. Traipsing around the wilderness by myself sounds fucking dull now even if I used to love it, but watching Tycho learn? I could do that all day. It would be fun, discovering what's just over the next hill, just around the next bend in the river, climbing a mountain just to see what the world looks like from so high. God, it's been a long time, but I used to live for that shit. Maybe...
I force my gaze to stay on Tycho's face instead of glancing over at Pazuzu. It would be stupid to let myself want him there too. So fucking stupid to imagine him walking beside me, his body brushing against mine, stealing a kiss, a caress as we follow behind our eager little demon. Shit. Breathe, Ryss. And fucking stop that. My ears pin back, and I breathe out a snort of annoyance against Tycho's mane, shaking my head and twitching my skin to dislodge the stupid, dangerous little fantasy like I would shake off a fly. Idiot.
And then. Just beyond Tycho's face, where there's no missing it, a tiny flower grows up out of the grass. Oh, it's small, just a dainty little thing peeking through the blades, but the second I see it I know I'm in trouble. I gasp, lowering my head to brush my lips against petals that look like little powder blue butterfly wings lined in violet toward the center. I haven't seen one of these in years, not since...
I used to see them whenever I went exploring, tiny butterflies hiding in the grass, painted to look just like me. Any time I was out having an adventure, wandering the world for the joy of it, I would see them in patches, little flocks of butterflies dancing in the breeze running through the grass, sharing my absolute wonder for everything I saw. I haven't seen them since...since Gendry set me on fire, dammit, since those weeks-long wanderings changed from delight and curiosity into a fucked up, broken, scared little patchwork monster girl hiding from the world and trying so hard not to hurt anyone else or ruin any more lives.
Shit. I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to fucking cry. Even if tears are welling up and making my stupid vision blurry when I look at Pazuzu, they will not fall. I won't let them. Even if that goddamn perfect little flower just reminded me of a piece of myself I'd forgotten for so long, mended something I didn't even know was broken. That line is looking more and more like a cliff, and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold onto the death grip I've got on the edge. Slipping one finger at a time, fighting not to fall into the endless abyss of his eyes.
I can't stop my lips from brushing against his cheek, or my forehead from pressing against his neck as I close my eyes and try to remember how to breathe. Fuck. “Then I won't also thank you for the” stupid fucking perfect little beautiful goddamn “flower.” A damn flower, and I'm melting. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm not that girl, I've never given a fuck about romantic gestures or mushy bullshit. I don't even like flowers. I don't dislike them, they just don't matter. Except this one. Shit. What happened to just chemistry? What the hell happened to wanting nothing more than sex?
I'm going to fucking ruin this if I'm not careful but I can't stop touching him, can't stop my body from leaning into his. It would be fine if it were just electricity, just another storm building between us, but that's not it. This is so much worse. There's a bizarre kind of safety in the raw animal passion between us, but there is nothing safe about falling into him, wanting him beside me, wanting to look into those damn eyes and know he's mine and I'm...
His.
Fuck. No. I need to walk away, need to wake up our little demon and get the hell away from him while I still can. Go, I beg silently, not sure if I'm pleading with myself or with him at this point. Either would do. Five minutes to get a fucking handle on my rampaging hormones and the stupid damn butterfly flowers fluttering inside my chest; five minutes to drag myself back over the edge of this cliff and make it remember that it's just a damn line in the dirt, that it's nothing. Five minutes, before I completely lose my grip.
I drag myself away from him, almost shaking with the effort, my heart racing. I brush my lips against Tycho's shoulder before sidestepping over him, putting a safe distance between my body and Pazuzu's. Between my heart and his. I just fucking promised this wouldn't be a problem. Not a minute ago, I told him he had nothing to worry about. I drag in a deep breath, letting it out slowly and reaching desperately for solid ground even though it feels next to impossible. Just fucking breathe, Ryss. It'll pass.
Just when you think that you're alright, I'm crawling out from the inside.
Her discomfort is plain to him as his eyes rove eagerly across her body. Her muscles clench and release, her legs began to shift slightly. Her ears flicker back and forth into her mane. Her gasp of breath when the tiny woodland violet creeps up out of the ground in front of her son. Her breath against the delicate flower petals and her long sigh of remembrance urges him to make more.
So he does.
Thousands of them pop up around them, bursting through the green grass, turning the ground into a blue and purple carpet. A smile curls his lips and he says nothing, even when she doesn't thank him for the flower. The tears in her eyes tell him more than she thinks it might. Others could blame it on hormones, blame the bundle beneath her hooves, and no doubt she wants to. He would feel the same. But he knows, in the gentle way she touches his cheek, brushing her lips across his skin...he knows.
She takes a moment to lean into his body and he touches her face with his lips, dragging them down her neck. He enjoys her warmth, his dark eyes still watching her, noting every movement, every breath, every hitch in her chest.
And then she is gone, sidestepping away from him, moving around their child like the little demon was a barrier. There was no getting away from shadows, they always like to chase. So he does, his hooves are moving moments after hers have stopped and his eyes might have a predatory gleam in them. There also might be a little bit of something else as he slides closer to her. Tendrils of darkness coming off his body to brush against her skin as he approaches.
He presses his chest into her shoulder, wrapping his neck across her back, his lips and teeth nibbling here and there where they could. "Rys. What if I told you I lied about something?" He begins, a small smile curling his lips as he speaks where she cannot see his face. He waits a moment feeling those muscles coil and uncoil beneath her beautiful skin because he was here and she was fighting it.
He had fought it. Fought it since that first fucking meeting when she had blown his world apart with lightning and sex and blood. Fought it until he had practically bloodied himself into a pulp. But yet the feelings were still there. She was still fighting it, but he would make it easier for her if he could.
"What if I could give you more?" His lips trailing from her back. His head moving from her shoulders so that his lips could drag themselves up her neck and he could taste her skin there. "What if I want to give you more?" He questions, lips moving against her skin as they climbed higher and higher until they reached her cheek. "What if I want to catch you when you fall?" And then he is eye level and while there might be a small smile on his lips, his eyes were deadly serious.
His thoughts no longer hidden in those dark depths, easily she would be able to see what he felt for her without any lies or premises.
pazuzu
**Disclaimer, posting to Pazuzu can result in maiming, torturing, and all kinds of nasty things possibly happening to your pony. If you do not agree, do not post to him or if you do not want your pony horribly maimed, please say so. Most of the time he will just leave some nice new scars, either mental or physical.
Just stay away from the white light. I'd say your worst side's your best side.
Even with my eyes closed, I can feel him following me, feel the lightning in his gaze on my skin. He carpeted the whole damn place in memories of fierce joy and wonder, and I can't even look without feeling myself slip farther, feeling the world lurch under me as it tries so goddamn hard to realign into one where all that matters is Us. The three of us, because he's so damn amazing with our little demon boy it steals the breath right out of my lungs and I need a goddamn minute but he's touching me, whisper-light caresses that barely feel real. And then he's pressed against me, holding me, and I could fucking kick him for making this so impossible.
Or wrap myself around him and never let go.
My mouth is moving toward his skin and I have no idea if I'm going to kiss him or sink my teeth in when he says my name. God, I love the sound of it on his lips and it annoys the fuck out of me. What do I care if he lied about something? Words are only words. They don't matter next to the delighted little shiver that runs through me as his lips and teeth trail up my back, as he lingers on my neck, making me melt into him and bare my throat to his touch. Words are nothing, just keep touching me. God, don't stop touching me. Except.
Those words sink in, and I pull back to stare at him, to search those endless black eyes of his and make damn sure he means every single one of them. And holy shit, he does. He's pouring himself out onto the damn magic carpet, offering me to catch me if I'll just fall into him. And it would be so easy to just let go, to dive right into his eyes and fall forever. “And then what?” I ask with far too much yearning in my voice, because I have more than just myself to think about. “You, me, and our new little demon, happily ever after? I don't know how to do this, Pazuzu.”
I had a really shitty example of what love is supposed to look like. One mom constantly running, doing her level best to sabotage what little relationship they had by dropping kids she had with someone else off on the other's doorstep and disappearing and then killing herself, and the other setting herself on fire, throwing away her whole life to chase after someone who thought the only way to love was to stay the hell away. Fighting even years after she was dead to hold onto someone who could never be held. I don't want that, I don't want any of it. “I don't have any fucking clue how to do this, but if I do? I'll be all in. And I won't accept anything less than the same. Either we're in this together or I'm not in it at all.”
And that's my line in the dirt. That's my goddamn cliff. I won't be my mom. Not either of them. Love means nothing, words mean nothing, unless you can fucking be there.
Just when you think that you're alright, I'm crawling out from the inside.
"I don't either Rys. But I'd like to try." Love after all was a whole new emotion for him, where he felt his heart thu-thump hard in his chest whenever she was near. When that tingly sensation ran up and down his body, coiling in whatever part was closest to her. Just waiting always for her touch, reveling in it when she did, even when those touches brought his blood to the surface.
He would have to be more open, which would be hard for him. Opening wasn't something he did. He could make others open, make them spill all their secrets or he would crack open their minds like eggs and get it himself. He could do that, but being open and willingly allowing some of that darkness to escape? Gods, that was a scary thought.
"Fair enough." He says when she is done, contemplating her words. "We will probably fight and argue and tell each other to piss off, but I am willing to go through the pain of love for you Rys." Opening up, gods damn this was hard. He practically gulps in a sudden nervousness. "The Gods know I tried to fight it, but this fucking feeling won't go away. It won't stop setting my body on fire for you or my damn heart knocking in my chest for you." His lips touch her cheek, gently, so gently.
"I've never even been close to Love. I swore I'd jump off a cliff for being so damn weak as to make a weakness. But I'm a fucking magician and if I cannot keep you safe and our son safe, then no one can. I won't be perfect. I'm not perfect. I'll fuck up and you will hate me, but I am hoping that maybe...maybe we can figure this bullshit out together."
He's such a romantic. "I won't follow you around unless you want me there. I refuse to be one of those needy bastards. I won't do everything you say or want me to do. I will make it up to you, somehow, every time I piss you off." His dark eyes falling into hers. Lips brushing against her neck even as his chest slides closer to her shoulder again so he could feel her warmth. "I will love you Ryss. I will keep you safe. I will keep our son safe. And I will give up most of my other life for you."
Sorry ladies, Pazuzu babies are now on the endangered list because the only one getting any is going to be his beautiful Ryss. Good news ladies! Most of you might even be okay because he probably won't go on torturing sprees until he gets so mad and hurt he can't cope another way.
His chest touches her now and he presses into her warmth. "Can we try Rys?"
pazuzu
**Disclaimer, posting to Pazuzu can result in maiming, torturing, and all kinds of nasty things possibly happening to your pony. If you do not agree, do not post to him or if you do not want your pony horribly maimed, please say so. Most of the time he will just leave some nice new scars, either mental or physical.
05-10-2016, 07:24 PM (This post was last modified: 05-11-2016, 08:59 AM by Daeryssa.
Edit Reason: because she said so
)
Just stay away from the white light. I'd say your worst side's your best side.
If I thought for a second throwing down like that would stop him, I was wrong. I can barely breathe, and I can't quite tell if I'm shaking or the world is quaking beneath my feet as he pours out his heart for me. And I listen, nodding encouragement, a wry grin on my face when he says we'll probably fight. True enough. But I bet it'll lead to make up sex, and I'm all for that. Mmm, there's something to look forward to. Then his lips are on my cheek, and it's all I can think about. So gentle, and still I just want to dive into him, want to never stop touching him. So I let go of the edge of the cliff and fall, because I know he's there to catch me.
“I don't want perfect, Pazuzu. I want real. I want messy, and scary as hell, and glorious. You're lightning in my veins, have been from the start. Perfect would be boring, and neither of us would be happy. It's a damn good thing you want more, because I'm yours. I'm in. I'm all in. We'll figure it out, even if neither of us has a damn clue what we're doing. You're right, we'll probably both fuck up, but we'll get over it.” I nip him on the shoulder and grin. “And when we do, we'll have fun making it better.” Then my lips are on his skin, soothing away that playful little nip.
“I don't need you to hover over me all the time, or hang from my every word. That's bullshit, and I'd end up hating you in about five minutes flat. I just want you. All of you, in my life, actually with me. Spending time with me, because you want to. I can think of a few things we can do together to start,” I add with a wicked grin, and my lips trail up his neck. “I don't need all your time, and I don't need you to give anything up for me. Any changes you want to make, you do for you. I'll take you exactly as you are, just like you'll take me. And maybe that means we'll clash some, but I want you, not some prettied up version with edges sanded down to fit better against me.” I like the way we fit together just fine, even when it involves a little bloodshed.
Sometimes especially then.
“I'm not going to turn into some lovesick puppy either, following you around and doing anything and everything just to make you happy. I'll drive you crazy, make you scream, make you bleed, and that'll be on a good day.” I lean into his touch, an unapologetic grin on my face. “Also if you knock me up again anytime soon I might have to murder you. Or at least find ways to make your life...interesting. I don't want to be popping out a kid or two every year 'til one of us dies. If you have any ideas on that front, I'm all ears, because let's be honest, I have designs on that body of yours and it's going to get me into that kind of trouble,” I nod at our little demon, “again in no time.”
Humor aside, I press my lips to the side of his face, trail kisses along the line of his jaw, press my cheek against his. “I'll love you too, Pazuzu. I may not be able to keep you safe, but I can...I can be the place you come home to, like you'll be mine. I've never really had home. Never really wanted it. But I think...I think together, that's something we could be. If you'd like.” I breathe him in, running my lips along his throat.
“I never wanted this. Sounded like a damn nightmare, really, being anything but mine. Belonging. Sounded like just another cage, and I've seen enough of cages to last a lifetime.” I lean into him, lips climbing higher on his neck until I can reach over and pull him closer. “And then you showed up. And there are no bars here, just...us.” I never thought I would say that word and it would feel...right. Safe. Oh, still scary as hell; I have no idea how to do any of this and wanting to is so new. But I know cages; I locked myself away in one for far too long. I know what it feels like to have bars around your heart, and this is the opposite. Terrifying and open and exposed. For him.
“I am going to fuck up, I can pretty much guarantee it. I'm going to hurt you, but I will find ways to make it better. We'll find ways, we'll figure it out together. And that's probably going to be even harder because we'll be figuring out the whole kid thing at the same time, and...well, I trust you to handle it when I screw up, just like I'll deal with it when you do. Maybe not well, but we'll deal, and we'll fix what we break. But he is so damn little. He's so new. And I don't know how to not break him.” That scares me more than anything else. Because I've seen the damage that a parent can do even to the child they love most. And I lived through the damage one can do to the child they don't. “But you both make me want to figure it out. We can more than try. I'm yours. You're mine. He's ours. Trying is for pussies. Let's just do.”
Just when you think that you're alright, I'm crawling out from the inside.
Her lips are on my skin as she speaks and it makes it so damn hard for me to concentrate. She nips me, making me inhale a breath each time she does. A purr starts to rumble in my chest. She makes me so fucking happy I can't even describe the feeling in my chest. She says everything I have wanted to say, everything I can't say. She speaks, even as her lips touch every part of my body they can. As she pulls me closer and I go, willingly because it's all I want to have some part of her body on my body, our heat mingling until we are one giant heater. I want skin on skin and lips touching....
Gods. I want her so fucking much right now. But our kid is over there, on the ground, a tiny huddled ball of quiet and so damn vulnerable. I want to protect him, to keep him safe always and to never let the little demon have any problems. Even I know that problems are part of life and sometimes if you run into a monster like I am, your problems get worse.
I am a monster. I have hurt and killed and burned and terrorized for my own amusement. I have tested and trialed and broken so many others that I can't really remember them. I would bruise one only to forget about her the moment I started on the next. I shouldn't touch Rys. I shouldn't want to be a part of her life and the life of our monster, but I do and I will. And I sure the fuck am.
There is obviously some good in me somewhere, if I can still love. So I will work hard to bring some of that to the forefront, because they both deserve some nice, some flowery words and beautiful sights. Even if they might have to deal with the darkness that runs through my veins daily.
"We will do our best Ryss. That's all we can do for him. We will love him and guide him and teach him. He might see some fucked up shit between us, might see us fight and yell. He will know our love though and know that we do know how to say we are sorry in our own fucked up ways. I'll teach him what you can't. You'll teach him what I can't. We will do this together."
My lips touch her cheek and then they are dragging their way down her body as I move my body away from hers. Even as I look over her back I am putting protection in place over our son. It's big enough he can stand up, big enough he can move but there was no way in hell he would be able to see us. And then I am doing the same to us. A knowing smile curls my lips. "Our son is safe. No one can see us." A rather hard nip to the curve of her haunch. "I will keep you from getting pregnant unless you want to love. Never fear." And then my lips are soothing the bite. "We will put it to the test now." I say with a smile.
Just stay away from the white light. I'd say your worst side's your best side.
I love the way he purrs, that sound of utter contentment rumbling in his chest that makes my body ache to echo it back at him. I can't make that sound, but I can sure as hell make others, and a low moan is almost good enough as his lips trail across my skin. More words, and they're important ones about how we can do the parenting thing, how we'll fill each other's gaps (mmm, damn right we will), each teaching him what the other cannot.
But he's touching me, and those lovely words are getting in the way of—oh that's better. Teeth, mmm. And lips, chasing away the pain even if it's exquisite, even if it just makes me want him more. More words, and I like these ones even better because they boil down to 'don't worry about the kid, or about winding up with any more of them. We're covered. I'll prove it.' Yes please. “Good enough. Too much talking. Shut up and touch me.”
God, and he does. He puts up barriers around us to keep the world out, and I can feel the last of mine falling away. Safe, I feel so safe tucked away with him in our own little corner of the world, my heart his for the taking, knowing his is mine too. It's different this time, not just sex and blood and lightning. It's so much more, so much bigger than just the chemistry between us. It scares the hell out of me but I can't look away.
Ah, but the time we spend inside that barrier is ours, his and mine alone, and I won't go into detail. When we're done, I'm shaking for a much different reason than the exhaustion after our last encounter. I curl up against him, still breathing hard, my racing heart starting to slow as I lean into him. I still can't get enough of his skin against mine, my lips still touching him, I want to never stop touching him. So much more than just lightning when hearts are involved. I've never been so scared, and I've never been so sure.
Mine.
I rest my head on his shoulder, listening to his heart beat coming down, breathe in our mingled scents on his skin, and the corner of my mouth turns upward in a smile of utter contentment. I can't remember the last time I felt this...happy. He just snuck up on me. He was here, without me asking or expecting it, gave me everything I never wanted until it was sprawled out at my feet in a blanket of violets and ferocious joy. Mine. Him, Tycho, this love, our weird little family, all of it. Mine. I don't have words, I'm all out of them, so I just hold him close to me and breathe.
Just when you think that you're alright, I'm crawling out from the inside.
Curious. I open my eyes, and I am alone. No sign of Mother, nor of the man logic would dictate is likely my father. His presence, his patient instruction, the look of quiet approval on his face as I devoured everything he taught me...oh, and that little comment when I drank Mother's blood. I think that might be a little bit of both of us. And after that last lesson, those words mean more than they did at the time. Interesting. Father. I do like that idea, and he's rather an excellent teacher. Yes, I think I'll keep him.
In the absence of anything else to do I stand, practicing the operation of my body in its new environment. It is more complicated now that I must maneuver around on my own, but the lack of confinement is a distinct improvement. As I rise, I lose my balance and start to fall, but something catches me. Solid, where it should by all rights be nothing but air. Interesting. I use the invisible surface to push myself back up, then turn to explore it.
I see nothing but air, and—and small flowers blanketing ground that was just grass before. Strange. Do flowers grow so quickly? I do not think I slept for long, though it's hard to say for sure. The smells are the same, aside from the pervasive floral note of the violets spread across the ground around me. I still smell Mother's and Father's scents lingering in the air as well, though I do not see or hear any indication of their presence. Curious indeed.
I nudge the invisible wall, probing to discover its limitations. I can see through it, whatever it is. I can still smell things beyond it, the sprawling growth of flowers, the surrounding trees. I can hear some kind of bird calling from one of those trees. The wall itself has no scent, nor taste. It is smooth to the touch, and solid. But when I paw at it, it makes no sound. It curves around me and over me, and down into the ground. Enough room to rise, to move around a little, but I am penned in.
Confined.
My eyes narrow, and I dig at the place where the invisible wall meets the earth, only to find that wall curling beneath my feet to rejoin itself. Trapped. I do not like trapped. Interesting, though, how my blood seems to run hotter in my veins, how heat builds in my chest and my abdomen, how it claws up the back of my neck and sets my ears pinning back, my jaw clenching, my nostrils flaring. Thorough, I will be thorough. I will dig up every inch of the ground inside this invisible wall, just to make sure there is no way through it. Perhaps I can tunnel out. No sense deciding I am truly trapped until I know for certain.
All those cliches were true. Everything was bigger and better when love was involved. I sigh contentedly against Ryss, our bodies curled around each other in the carpet of violets. She lays her head on my shoulder and I reach down gently to lip at her legs as they lay curled beneath her. I smile, ears flickering as a sound outside of our bubble reaches my ears and within moments I am making our own shield disappear.
"Oh dear." I say with an amused smile to my lips. I brush my lips to her forehead, angling so I could before I lurch to my feet. "It seems our demon does not like cages." And I'm stepping closer, blood coming from one of my cuts to touch itself against Tycho's cage. And just like that his barrier is gone. Only my blood would have worked, it was the only protection I knew I could have given him that no one else would have been able to break. In the absence of my blood, Rys could have used her own.
"Sorry son." I touch my lips gently to his back. "Precautions against others harming you was a concern while your mom and dad were...busy." A knowing smile is on my lips even as I turn to look briefly behind me at Ryss. Beautiful. She was so damn beautiful with the blue purple violets around her and the blue purple in her skin.
A dark eye rolls back towards our son. "I expect we will piss you off from time to time, but next time I will make sure there is something you can do and your area is a little bigger, can you handle that?" Negotiating. I did love to negotiate. It was one of those things that just has more meaning the older you were. No one negotiated any more. It was always a give and take with no real meaning behind it. And so I wait while my son thinks over what it is I have offered him.
He will learn that I am open to adjustments and respond accordingly.
pazuzu
**Disclaimer, posting to Pazuzu can result in maiming, torturing, and all kinds of nasty things possibly happening to your pony. If you do not agree, do not post to him or if you do not want your pony horribly maimed, please say so. Most of the time he will just leave some nice new scars, either mental or physical.
I have only just begun to paw at the ground when Father is standing before me, appearing out of nowhere and stepping through air that was solid a moment ago. Eyes narrowed, I reach out to touch the wall that had confined me, and my nose passes through the space where it had been. He touches my back, and I pin my ears and snake my neck around to bite the air near him. Not him, not making contact, not even truly coming close. Just making my displeasure apparent, as well it should be.
I snort at his explanation, stepping through what used to be a wall just to prove to myself that I can. Tension eases from my back, my neck, my shoulders as air allows me to pass freely, and when I am more calm I turn back to study him. To study both of them. There is something different here. Something in the way their eyes linger on one another. From the way Mother watched Father so intently during the end of our lesson as he described reproduction, and from the new cuts on their skin, I have my suspicions what '...busy' means. It does not seem like a complete answer, however.
Further observation is necessary. Again. Too much I do not know. So much to learn, to sort through, to synthesize. One lesson at a time. It seems this particular lesson is one for both of us. I watch, unblinking, as Father outlines terms. Tilt my head, eyes narrow as I consider his offer. Then I walk the perimeter of the invisible wall, where my small hooves stomped down violets and grass as I explored its boundaries. When I have completed the circle, I meet his eyes, snort, and shake my head. Too small. Far too small.
When I am sure he is watching, I make a significantly larger loop, extending to the edge of the clearing and into the shadow of the trees. Half the size of this place, with enough room to practice maneuvering my body and with at least a few interesting places to explore. If I must be bound, which I suppose I understand given my age and my thus far limited motor control and the vulnerability inherent in my current state, then I require much more space.
When I have completed my circuit and returned to his side, I stare into his eyes, making sure he understands my conditions. I am not unwilling to negotiate, given the reasonable need to protect me from harm while his and Mother's attention was elsewhere. Then I bite my shoulder, tearing the skin enough to let rich dark red trickle slowly down the red-violet of my skin. If we strike a deal, we seal it in blood.
