06-23-2018, 09:59 PM
What do I want?
What do I want? I can't remember the last time I'd been asked that; have I ever? My life has always been what others want: what Loess wanted, what Arthas wanted, what my captors in Sylva wanted. It is not a woman's place to want things; it is her place to wakes sure that others wants are satisfied.
I am uncaged; the decision is mine to make. Wolfbane says these things like they are normal, like there is nothing unusual in what he offers me so casually. The confusion flickers across my face entirely unshielded; I am too torn to battle both my emotions and my expressions.
What do I want?
I want the last year to have never happened. That's what I want. Wolfbane can't know that twelve months ago I was a different creature entirely; bright, cheerful, happy. He is not the source of my resistance, and neither is Loess. But it never even occurs to me that he might think otherwise, that he might find himself responsible for the way I react.
He turns to the terrain, and when he looks back again the warmth that I'd felt from him a moment ago seems to have seeped away. Was that my fault as well? Had he wanted a different reaction? He offers a chance to get to know him better, and I realize that yes - that is what I want. I am not sure why. He is still a stranger. But he is also the king, and he had asked what I wanted.
'I'll be waiting for you,' he says, and it seems he means to leave. I don't want him to, I realize. This might not be what he'd meant, but acknowledging what I don't want is somehow easier than allowing myself to think about what I do want. I don't want to spend another fretful night with my terrors, and if I return to the shelter of my scrub that is certainly what I will do.
"Wait." I say, turning my head to see his departing back, and continuing the motion with my forequarters. It takes a few lengths of a choppy trot to catch up to him, but I slow to a walk when I do, careful to keep a distance between us that Arthas would approve of.
"I want to be a diplomat." I tell the ground at my feet as we walk along. "And I want to see Beqanna. I've only been here and Sylva and Ischia, the once." I do my best to keep the excitement from my voice, but there is a softness to the line of my navy mouth where a smile is almost forming.
What do I want? I can't remember the last time I'd been asked that; have I ever? My life has always been what others want: what Loess wanted, what Arthas wanted, what my captors in Sylva wanted. It is not a woman's place to want things; it is her place to wakes sure that others wants are satisfied.
I am uncaged; the decision is mine to make. Wolfbane says these things like they are normal, like there is nothing unusual in what he offers me so casually. The confusion flickers across my face entirely unshielded; I am too torn to battle both my emotions and my expressions.
What do I want?
I want the last year to have never happened. That's what I want. Wolfbane can't know that twelve months ago I was a different creature entirely; bright, cheerful, happy. He is not the source of my resistance, and neither is Loess. But it never even occurs to me that he might think otherwise, that he might find himself responsible for the way I react.
He turns to the terrain, and when he looks back again the warmth that I'd felt from him a moment ago seems to have seeped away. Was that my fault as well? Had he wanted a different reaction? He offers a chance to get to know him better, and I realize that yes - that is what I want. I am not sure why. He is still a stranger. But he is also the king, and he had asked what I wanted.
'I'll be waiting for you,' he says, and it seems he means to leave. I don't want him to, I realize. This might not be what he'd meant, but acknowledging what I don't want is somehow easier than allowing myself to think about what I do want. I don't want to spend another fretful night with my terrors, and if I return to the shelter of my scrub that is certainly what I will do.
"Wait." I say, turning my head to see his departing back, and continuing the motion with my forequarters. It takes a few lengths of a choppy trot to catch up to him, but I slow to a walk when I do, careful to keep a distance between us that Arthas would approve of.
"I want to be a diplomat." I tell the ground at my feet as we walk along. "And I want to see Beqanna. I've only been here and Sylva and Ischia, the once." I do my best to keep the excitement from my voice, but there is a softness to the line of my navy mouth where a smile is almost forming.
