07-28-2015, 05:41 PM
He knows she’s lying, of course. They may have been apart but she is his twin, his only known kin. The only one shaped as he is, his cohort. The one who left, quiet, no words said, no goodbyes bid. The one who left him wondering what had happened, imaging her body broken, shattered, easy prey.
He knows and he wonders, if she had not left, if he would have gone to the falls. If he would have followed the wolf-girl so easily. Perhaps they both might have, and they could have beheld the waterfalls together, mouths agape as the waves crash over rocks.
But he is kind. He lets her have the lie and does not press the issue.
(Besides, he is afraid to press the issue, the bruise left upon them both that goes unspoken, unacknowledged.)
“Why…” he is asking before he can help it. He lets her have the lies but he cannot let her go without telling him why he woke up alone, “why didn’t you tell me you were going?”
Then, quieter, “you know I would have gone with you.”
contagion
be careful making wishes in the dark