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 Posted: Sat Apr 26, 2008 10:30 pm
"Look at the stars. Look how they shine for you. And everything you do, yeah they were all yellow."
That's what she had said. Like a winter's thunder, rolling back and forth, those words sunk deep into his mind, to stay firmly stuck among the few other parts of his life that he remembered. Memory was not a challenge, but some memories he had been careful not to ever recall.
With those words, he wished he could do the same.
"For you, Wyatt."
In this world a dozen leaders were born every day. A million souls to be marvelled at, a trillion smiles to show approval. Wyatt was not a leader. Wyatt was not a genius. And Wyatt rarely received approval. But Wyatt loved, and Wyatt loved all things deeply.
When tackling the buck, Wyatt didn't go for the throat. He didn't go for the leg. He didn't go for the stomach or back or face or foot. He wrestled down a daisy instead and laid it beside the slain animal. He did not cry, but he was filled with shame and pity at what he and the girls had done. He was supposed to have been the one to have given the final blow, taken it down with vigor and joy. Instead he quietly mourned the loss.
"Yellow."
The male wasn't a coward, or maybe he was down in his heart. But his heart was dominated by love above all else, and he was sure given the circumstance his love and devotion could conquer any fear.
Soweto was everything that Wyatt was not. She was bigger. She was stronger. She was a tad bit fatter, and above all else she was faker. The he-wolf wore his emotions on his sleeve, and lived with great faith in the goodness of others, and to greater beings. Soweto didn't live for anything, except the hope that she'd find something to live for. Wyatt believed that perhaps if she didn't hide herself as well as she did, perhaps she could become all the things she pretended to be.
But his fascination with her was singular. He had never truly matured from his youth, and held steadfast to it, with an almost abusive grip. What he felt for Soweto he could not understand, and likely never would.
Wyatt had always been babied. Pitied by others. When they finally came out and told him he was a coward, and would not amount to anything until his reality came into check, even Soweto found herself offering him consolance.
"It's true, look how they shine for you. Look how they shine for you."
He liked her. He surely loved her. But he loved her in a way that he could understand. In a lead-me-please fashion, and he hoped surely she would not give up on him. Nelos hadn't yet, so that meant there was hope. But Soweto was growing restless, and he could see Soweto wanted to leave.
Who then, would assure him? Or perhaps, open his eyes to what he hadn't yet seen?
Rolling onto his back and lifting his muzzle from the dirt, the black and grey wolf rubbed a paw against his maw before taking a final stretch and surging to his feet.
It was beginning to rain. The waters rose around him in his sunken hole, filling in the cracks and starting their way up his fur. It was a low point, and would soon be engulfed in water. Wyatt couldn't swim, but no one had ever admitted this to him after bailing his half-drowned-self out.
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Posted: Sat Apr 26, 2008 11:57 pm
The rain reminded her of that day. The day fate tripped her and stole her kill and laughed in her face. She could still feel the agony biting at her soul, even two years past. She smiled down bitterly at a mudpuddle, then slammed a paw into it, sending it up into a violent splash.
She'd ostracized herself from the pack that day. She'd heard them whispering. She'd felt their fear and their anger and their pity. But she didn't need their ******** pity.
Her mind was diseased. Her body moved on its own. She'd go without memory. It was as if she were two different wolves in one, mood swinging rapidly 24-7.
Her jaws had snapped down on flesh and bone and blood sprayed out and the half-year was dead. Just like any other kill, she supposed. She didn't actually remember doing it, but she had to've.
She'd come around to find them crowded around the mountain edge, staring at her in horror, blood coating violet fur. And her beautiful daughter slain at her paws.
She'd ran then; ran right off the cliff in a panic. She landed in the river, the current sweeping her downstream and cleansing her coat but never her soul. It was stained.
She'd been running since. Now, as her coat matted to her skin from the icy rain, she gazed out to see a racoon-tailed wolf pulling himself from a hole. Her legs quivered at the sight -- she'd not been with another wolf for weeks...
He didn't seem harmful.
No, it was herself she'd have to worry about.
And with that, she dipped her head and hurried over to him, careful to keep herself low -- lower than him, even, her stomach scraping the mud.
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Posted: Sun Apr 27, 2008 6:07 pm
Drip drip drop. The rain followed it's pattern as it began to steadily increase from a drizzle to a pour. By the time Wyatt began to think of the pattern in his head, it had changed. Drop drop splash.
Smiling upwards, the male shook water from his coat, only for it to start absorbing the leaking sky once more. That was the thing about rain, when it rained, it poured. And there was no use in fighting it until it decided on its own to let up.
With muddied paws he was trudging in the direction he hoped to find cover in. There wasn't much in the area, but there was always at least one place to wait out the grey clouds.
Soweto would have already found it by now had she been here. Mother would have already been cuddling him close. Yet he was alone, and yet he never really was.
Bright pink was difficult to miss on a sunny day, and in the rain? Impossible.
She was drenched, he noticed. Wyatt smiled at her and gave his tail a little wag. "I don't suppose you like making mud angels?"
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Posted: Sun Apr 27, 2008 7:17 pm
She noticed his smile, a smile that reached his beautiful eyes. Beautiful to her, because he was wolf. Her own ice-hued gaze met his, then jerked downwards once, and up again, uncertain.
When his tail wagged, the tip of hers took on a life of its own and began to twitch as well.
Mud angels? What were mud angels? She cocked her head, three little earrings clinking together for a second.
"Show me?"
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Posted: Tue May 06, 2008 5:54 pm
Hopefully she wasn't a wolfess who preferred to be clean and warm, though if she was, what was she doing out in the rain anyway?
Mud angels, were simple. You just had to wiggle, it was all in the jiggling wiggling.
Flopping onto his back into the mud Wyatt took a second to feel out all the mud around him, before deciding this was indeed just as good a place as any.
"You just have to move," he coaxed. He never saw anything ridiculous in such an art. It was fun. And fun was far more important in life than most wolves ever realized.
"And your angel is left behind." Carefully, he lept out of the muddy hole, and indeed his outline was vaguely present. Sliding a little in the mud as he regained his footing, the wolf turned back to his bright new companion and offered a hopeful lopsided grin.
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Posted: Wed May 07, 2008 9:09 pm
She blinked the rain out of her eyes, giving her dark coat a shake as she watched him from her place on the ground.
He flailed around in the mud, covering himself and his fur and splashing it up on Bipolar's green and white paws.
Then he hopped up. She was entranced, her eyes focused on the oddly surprising wolf-esque shape on the ground where he'd been.
It didn't look like an angel, at least in her opinion, but then again, she'd never seen one. An angel, that is. So perhaps it was...
"But...if your angel is left behind, aren't you alone then?" she asked, ears flipping back in a brief sadness.
She didn't wait for a reply. She sloshed through the wet to the space where his angel was and slowly, carefully, lay down inside it, trying not to disturb what he'd already done.
She rolled and stretched her legs up in the air, as if reaching a paw out to the rain that continued to fall, and when she got up, her angel lay inside his, almost a perfect replica.
"Like that?"
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