08-30-2018, 10:57 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]He wonders if they had known, even when he was little more than a child, that his response to a direct approach was to tense up and dig his feet in. Had they tried? Had they snapped at him, ordered him to do something? He can't remember. Still. All he can look back and see is a sickly sweet warmth and encouragement that should have made him trip. Scars, for Winter, were his decorations. Not streaks of gold and earrings that would chip, nothing that he could wash off later. The blood, perhaps, but only that. There had been a time where he hadn't questioned anything. There were no acts of disobedience, not even the smallest of things, and life had fallen to the comfortable monotony of a job that would never end. Day in and day out, it was the same tasks, the same ideas. He would fight, he would drag, he would break the wills of people who didn't deserve it. Once upon a time, he had been little more than they were. That was what they had said, whispered as if he'd been raised up, made better — these days, he realizes that it was something of the opposite. He's still climbing out of a hole he made.
It's slow, strenuous work. Like Danyla, he has come to the conclusion that he would still go back if asked, and it drives him to work ever harder to make sure that he never will. There will come a day when he can bare his teeth and snarl at the idea. Not today, and probably not tomorrow. But eventually. A killer was no easier than a distraction. Both were emptied and refilled with what was wanted. An idea, nothing more.
They're both distracted by the unsubtle fluttering of fold that catches the light, turns to flakes of fire and ash before settling in the dirt. His mouth had opened with a quiet, reassuring reply before he catches another voice, and his jaws clamp down the way they had before. It was likely better that way, with how clearly he makes the wolf — not uncomfortable, but subservient. A reminder of things he didn't need to be reminded of. In truth, he was something opposite of Isidore, at least now. There was no digging required to find level commands and a cold attitude. Instead, one would have to search for something softer, something that didn't carry this heavy violence he'd had branded into him. "Noli commoveri," he murmurs after the other has finished speaking. "I don't want anything."
It's slow, strenuous work. Like Danyla, he has come to the conclusion that he would still go back if asked, and it drives him to work ever harder to make sure that he never will. There will come a day when he can bare his teeth and snarl at the idea. Not today, and probably not tomorrow. But eventually. A killer was no easier than a distraction. Both were emptied and refilled with what was wanted. An idea, nothing more.
They're both distracted by the unsubtle fluttering of fold that catches the light, turns to flakes of fire and ash before settling in the dirt. His mouth had opened with a quiet, reassuring reply before he catches another voice, and his jaws clamp down the way they had before. It was likely better that way, with how clearly he makes the wolf — not uncomfortable, but subservient. A reminder of things he didn't need to be reminded of. In truth, he was something opposite of Isidore, at least now. There was no digging required to find level commands and a cold attitude. Instead, one would have to search for something softer, something that didn't carry this heavy violence he'd had branded into him. "Noli commoveri," he murmurs after the other has finished speaking. "I don't want anything."
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｢ I KNEW THAT SOMETHING WOULD ALWAYS RULE ME. ｣