11-29-2020, 06:45 PM
He knows her better than most, and for that she is grateful. That he can pick up on the almost unreadable worry and tension in her voice, but does not ask her to speak of it. She has never been very good with words. She does not know how to turn the storm of emotions that have locked themselves inside of her chest and mind into words, does not know how to shape them into something that he, or anyone, would ever understand.
And she knows, too, that most of her worries are self-made.
If he didn’t want to be here, he simply wouldn’t be.
If he didn’t want her to stay, he would have made that clear.
She could tell herself that over and over, but believing it was another thing entirely.
For so many years she had learned to be content with what she was given, had become accustomed to being an afterthought, that it still felt strange to be wanted in any capacity.
She can hear the smile in his voice though, and the way he touches her neck is enough to abate her worry, at least for now. There is a smile on her lips too, faint though it was, when she reaches to pull at a tangled strand of his mane and say, “I’m glad you weren’t named Mass Murderer Jr.”
The sound of someone approaching distracts her, and just as Atrox shifts and leaps forward, she instinctively steps just behind him, in front of the twins still curled on the ground. She lowers her head, touching her nose gently to their cheeks, her voice a soft, nearly inaudible murmur below the growling of the panther and the tiger. Her heart catches when she realizes that it’s Breach, and then flinches at what she says. Six months. That didn’t seem like very long, but she knew that it was more than fair, since they should not be here at all – especially her.
Her sightless gaze turns to Breach, and as was her nature there was no malice to her tone when she says quietly, “Understood.” But there is a clench to her jaw, a rigidness to the muscles of her neck and back when she turns to touch the colt that now nuzzled against her chest.
Perhaps fighting to stay had been a mistake, but along with the rest of her worries, she buries the thought away.
And she knows, too, that most of her worries are self-made.
If he didn’t want to be here, he simply wouldn’t be.
If he didn’t want her to stay, he would have made that clear.
She could tell herself that over and over, but believing it was another thing entirely.
For so many years she had learned to be content with what she was given, had become accustomed to being an afterthought, that it still felt strange to be wanted in any capacity.
She can hear the smile in his voice though, and the way he touches her neck is enough to abate her worry, at least for now. There is a smile on her lips too, faint though it was, when she reaches to pull at a tangled strand of his mane and say, “I’m glad you weren’t named Mass Murderer Jr.”
The sound of someone approaching distracts her, and just as Atrox shifts and leaps forward, she instinctively steps just behind him, in front of the twins still curled on the ground. She lowers her head, touching her nose gently to their cheeks, her voice a soft, nearly inaudible murmur below the growling of the panther and the tiger. Her heart catches when she realizes that it’s Breach, and then flinches at what she says. Six months. That didn’t seem like very long, but she knew that it was more than fair, since they should not be here at all – especially her.
Her sightless gaze turns to Breach, and as was her nature there was no malice to her tone when she says quietly, “Understood.” But there is a clench to her jaw, a rigidness to the muscles of her neck and back when she turns to touch the colt that now nuzzled against her chest.
Perhaps fighting to stay had been a mistake, but along with the rest of her worries, she buries the thought away.
R y A t A h
and you can aim for my heart, go for blood
but you would still miss me in your bones
but you would still miss me in your bones