She looked at him, and stepped back, confused. No, he’d said. This isn’t love. A gasp threatens to choke her as she steps back, not bothering to mask the pain and hurt she felt in her eyes. Tears slink down her snout and hit the ground with a green puff of smoke, and she raises her hackles, bearing her teeth at him.
“What? What then?!” Reagan is in pain, and it is the wolf that threatens to overwhelm her—to claw her to death. She cannot take it anymore. It is the wolf form she assumes for him; He has not earned that privilege. And so she turns herself back into the grullo mare she was born as, wild and angry. Irish in all her glory. The wind picks up and the snow begins to fall as her words are carried away on an echo, accompanied by angry snorts of cathartic release.
“You say ‘this isn’t love?! I am hungry for you, Ruan! When I needed you to believe in me and to trust me most, you LEFT me. Betrayed my trust, left my side, and went to find them.” She spits the word, knowing it would sting as she intended. She did not care about not hurting his feelings anymore. She was in pain, and wanted to know that their love was still worth it; that it was still worth fighting for.
The breeze changes to a blustery wind, and her voice follows its crescendo. “I am hungry for your love, your prescence. I CRAVE your trust and affection. And you spread it around to them. Your lady wolves. Our daughters. You have even abandoned our son. All for what? Your wings? You knew they were temporary. And instead of TRUSTING me, and BELIEIVNG in me, you slink off. For the good of the forest…” the wind stills, and her voice quietens down, as she shrinks away from his warmth, as if she’s been singed. The need for him has not wained. Her desire remains edied and unchecked. But she stills her heart—her blood. He does not want her anymore. “but you let us die in the process.”
“I need you. I need to hide in the lee of your shadow. I need everything you are, everything you’ve ever promised me. Everything I have ever been. Everything I have ever done. It is meaningless without you.” She is sobbing now, her chest moving with her racking sobs.
“The bear,” she gasps. “He is just a horse. Siberian. He is a good man, tricked. He has…” she hiccups, looking down as her tears stream openly down her face, congregate her nose, before dropping into the snow. “…a daughter. He is a father, just looking for what is best for his family. Like you. He was tricked. By Deimos. I swear to that on my love for you.” She looks up at him again, her tears dissipating as they are replaced by a look that is hard. Foreign.
“But you didn’t trust me.”
it’s always darkest before the dawn
Reagan
