12-03-2024, 12:35 PM
I’ve never met anyone with a sense of humor like this Stra … toe … Ravin. Meyer is my protector, the big brother I never asked for, but he’s always quiet and calm, more often than not just rolling his eyes and sighing at what he calls my "shenanigans". I glance at him sideways, catching the flash of pain across his face when he shifts his weight. I’m flooded with guilt immediately, my skin prickling.
Too often I let my emotions get the best of me. Meyer says it’s from repressing so many things while I was growing up (“Which you are still in the process of,” he’d sidetracked sternly as we lay in our refuge for the night, whispering quietly to one another as if the darkness could not steal our secrets.) He’d also cautioned me against using it as an excuse for bad behavior, something I often struggle with but don’t fall back on now. We’ve been gone from Niklas for nearly two seasons and Meyer still can’t travel far in a day, or play-fight like we used to. I made a mistake. Again. I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat when he catches my frown and winks at me before shaking his mane out.
Meyer begins to explain how we don’t really have a home. “We know the best hidey places!” I shout, eager to be a part of the conversation and move past the troubled feeling of having pushed my brother past his limits. Meyer groans and shoves my shoulder with his nose. Oops. I don’t react to his admonishment, physically or otherwise. Instead, I turn my attention back to the toothy boy, staring at these so-called fish-catching teeth. I’ve never tried catching a fish myself. They’re smelly, too, but in a bad way, not the way Ravin smells funny. He said I smelled like the Forest … While he and Meyer talk about boring things, I crane my neck around to my side, inhaling deeply. I can smell Meyer and … I do smell like the Forest! It’s a warm, earthy scent, familiar and comforting and wild.
“Did you eat it?” I interrupt, tilting my head in question.
I scoot closer, even bolder now that we’ve exchanged each other’s scents and Meyer rests a hind leg. “What are the Gates? And if you have a home … why would you be out here?” I lay my ears back and frown at this last thought spoken aloud.
Too often I let my emotions get the best of me. Meyer says it’s from repressing so many things while I was growing up (“Which you are still in the process of,” he’d sidetracked sternly as we lay in our refuge for the night, whispering quietly to one another as if the darkness could not steal our secrets.) He’d also cautioned me against using it as an excuse for bad behavior, something I often struggle with but don’t fall back on now. We’ve been gone from Niklas for nearly two seasons and Meyer still can’t travel far in a day, or play-fight like we used to. I made a mistake. Again. I swallow against the sudden lump in my throat when he catches my frown and winks at me before shaking his mane out.
Meyer begins to explain how we don’t really have a home. “We know the best hidey places!” I shout, eager to be a part of the conversation and move past the troubled feeling of having pushed my brother past his limits. Meyer groans and shoves my shoulder with his nose. Oops. I don’t react to his admonishment, physically or otherwise. Instead, I turn my attention back to the toothy boy, staring at these so-called fish-catching teeth. I’ve never tried catching a fish myself. They’re smelly, too, but in a bad way, not the way Ravin smells funny. He said I smelled like the Forest … While he and Meyer talk about boring things, I crane my neck around to my side, inhaling deeply. I can smell Meyer and … I do smell like the Forest! It’s a warm, earthy scent, familiar and comforting and wild.
“Did you eat it?” I interrupt, tilting my head in question.
I scoot closer, even bolder now that we’ve exchanged each other’s scents and Meyer rests a hind leg. “What are the Gates? And if you have a home … why would you be out here?” I lay my ears back and frown at this last thought spoken aloud.
salomea
@Ravin