04-06-2017, 01:01 AM
Ruan
There was a brokenness inside him. An ache that never quite went away. A hollow, gaping void in his chest, always reaching, grasping for something that wasn't there. Stolen away or destroyed. Gone and empty, but bleeding out his pain. Bleeding and bleeding and never slowing, always flowing. Dripping sadness and sorrow, so much hurt.
It hid behind a dark face, behind blue eyes and a steady stare. He'd stopped patrolling, his face upturned to the sky. What was once his time to hunt as a wolf was now a walk to remember, a path through the land or around the outskirts. Alone. He knew what it was like to be up there, among the clouds and the stars with large wings of downy white cutting effortlessly through the sky. The scars at his sides burned with the memory, the muscles underneath long withered away in disuse. He never made the wings of ice anymore either. Didn't like to remember.
The beast in his mind stirred as he stared into that world he once traveled. An echo of the creature reflected the movement in his chest, maybe in his heart, as though it were in both places. Maybe it always had been. Or maybe without that foreign light, another's soul, it had the freedom to move in wherever it wished. He didn't know, didn't care to understand it. Only accepted it as a new normal. What else was he to do?
But it stirred, coiled and twisted and unraveled itself silently like a dark shadow, turning a glowing stare to his mind's eye. It never spoke, if it really was a separate being. He never needed it to, could always read its intent in the way it moved or held itself. Body language was his language too, even though this thing didn't always seem to have real form. And so he didn't turn when it signaled with a simple glance her presence, her approach. It's pleasure.
Do you remember my wings, he asked softly, as though not to wake the sleeping forest around them, eyes still staring up at the night sky, tracing slow paths among distant constellations. A sad, empty sort of smile slowly curled his lips, a hollow and short laugh from his chest. I loved sheltering Jinju and Heda beneath them. As though I could always protect them if only they could stay with me forever. Never grow older, never.. learn to hate me.
He let it fade away, finding the direction of his thoughts far too deep, too vulnerable to share. A change then. Something else instead. He finally lowered his eyes, turned to settle them on her, the familiar deepwater of her hair and evergreen of her skin faded by the darkness of night, to the dark eyes shining back.
I'm glad you're here. It wasn't really enough though, was it? Didn't really say everything he meant. He had no idea he was bringing her home to an upheaval when he found her in the field that day. The changes were so sudden, so unforeseen. So painfully surprising. But necessary. Things would settle now, wouldn't they? He'd learn to.. work his way through this. Or something.
You stayed through it all, he shrugged, turned his gaze back to the darkness beneath the trees. That feels promising somehow. Almost like trust, if he still knew how to trust anyone. It felt like too frightening a thing to try lately. Maybe in time.
It hid behind a dark face, behind blue eyes and a steady stare. He'd stopped patrolling, his face upturned to the sky. What was once his time to hunt as a wolf was now a walk to remember, a path through the land or around the outskirts. Alone. He knew what it was like to be up there, among the clouds and the stars with large wings of downy white cutting effortlessly through the sky. The scars at his sides burned with the memory, the muscles underneath long withered away in disuse. He never made the wings of ice anymore either. Didn't like to remember.
The beast in his mind stirred as he stared into that world he once traveled. An echo of the creature reflected the movement in his chest, maybe in his heart, as though it were in both places. Maybe it always had been. Or maybe without that foreign light, another's soul, it had the freedom to move in wherever it wished. He didn't know, didn't care to understand it. Only accepted it as a new normal. What else was he to do?
But it stirred, coiled and twisted and unraveled itself silently like a dark shadow, turning a glowing stare to his mind's eye. It never spoke, if it really was a separate being. He never needed it to, could always read its intent in the way it moved or held itself. Body language was his language too, even though this thing didn't always seem to have real form. And so he didn't turn when it signaled with a simple glance her presence, her approach. It's pleasure.
Do you remember my wings, he asked softly, as though not to wake the sleeping forest around them, eyes still staring up at the night sky, tracing slow paths among distant constellations. A sad, empty sort of smile slowly curled his lips, a hollow and short laugh from his chest. I loved sheltering Jinju and Heda beneath them. As though I could always protect them if only they could stay with me forever. Never grow older, never.. learn to hate me.
He let it fade away, finding the direction of his thoughts far too deep, too vulnerable to share. A change then. Something else instead. He finally lowered his eyes, turned to settle them on her, the familiar deepwater of her hair and evergreen of her skin faded by the darkness of night, to the dark eyes shining back.
I'm glad you're here. It wasn't really enough though, was it? Didn't really say everything he meant. He had no idea he was bringing her home to an upheaval when he found her in the field that day. The changes were so sudden, so unforeseen. So painfully surprising. But necessary. Things would settle now, wouldn't they? He'd learn to.. work his way through this. Or something.
You stayed through it all, he shrugged, turned his gaze back to the darkness beneath the trees. That feels promising somehow. Almost like trust, if he still knew how to trust anyone. It felt like too frightening a thing to try lately. Maybe in time.
