01-21-2020, 01:07 AM
risk
He hates the words the moment she speaks them and he visibly winces to hear them. Could he ever leave a child to fend for itself in that awful den? Risk doesn’t imagine that he could ever hate a child or find it so painful to be around them that he had no other choice. But Sochi has never been left in the den and he has never had a child of his own, so their perspectives will never align, he imagines. Are there parents who have put down their own young, he wonders? The thought makes him feel sick and he forces himself to find her eyes.
“It’s awful, being left there,” he begins, carefully picking each word as he continues. “But I don’t know her reasons. Maybe someone was after her. Or she just hated me.”
He swallows hard. Somewhere out there, Virgo cries each night for him while Caw searches endlessly, but he remains horribly unaware. His world is built on fragile little unanswered questions that grow more numerous each day. Sochi may find herself in much the same boat but he is afraid to pry into her life beyond the simple minutes they are together. The secrets come trickling slowly between them and eventually they may know each other well enough to call themselves friends.
“I know you don’t owe me anything, but would you stay a little longer this time?” he asks suddenly, a nervous laugh tumbling from his lips. Risk hates to admit how lonely he gets and so he dances around the confession instead. But if she bristles at the question and swipes her claws across his face, he wouldn’t mind that either. At least it would leave him with something to remember her by and a story to tell. And yet, some defiantly hopeful little shard of him holds its breath for her answer.
“It’s awful, being left there,” he begins, carefully picking each word as he continues. “But I don’t know her reasons. Maybe someone was after her. Or she just hated me.”
He swallows hard. Somewhere out there, Virgo cries each night for him while Caw searches endlessly, but he remains horribly unaware. His world is built on fragile little unanswered questions that grow more numerous each day. Sochi may find herself in much the same boat but he is afraid to pry into her life beyond the simple minutes they are together. The secrets come trickling slowly between them and eventually they may know each other well enough to call themselves friends.
“I know you don’t owe me anything, but would you stay a little longer this time?” he asks suddenly, a nervous laugh tumbling from his lips. Risk hates to admit how lonely he gets and so he dances around the confession instead. But if she bristles at the question and swipes her claws across his face, he wouldn’t mind that either. At least it would leave him with something to remember her by and a story to tell. And yet, some defiantly hopeful little shard of him holds its breath for her answer.