I remember… I thought it was strange at the time. That you permitted my approach. Told myself it was a trap or that [ … ] perhaps it was only that you were weary. That your bones feel the exhaustion seeping through my own.
I watched you through the brush, and didn’t act. Didn’t strike; the thought never occurred to me. It would have been a shame to set onslaught on a sleeping wolf, I must have told myself. A game ill-played against a seeming-antagonist so majestic.
I didn’t wish to harm you; I know that now, and clearly.
It hurt to look upon you long. What I recall of those visions, those sightings [ … ] is followed by a day’s worth of blistering headaches. Pains I told myself were incidental. Pains I attributed to the posturing of varied nobles
In fairness, their natterings did yield countless irritations.
And in truth, I know it wasn’t that. It wasn’t them. It was the sight of you, and—
I knew you too well, or some part of me did.
I wish I would have known you better. More clearly.
[ … ]
Some day, we’ll learn what they did to us.
Some day, we’ll ruin them all. Through hunt, through machination, through any route we please.
Gods, I’d be unsurprised to find the perpetrators thought themselves virtuous. Acting for the good of the realm, ‘to spare the kingdom.’ As if I could care a shit about devastation when I had my wolf to love.
As if anything could matter more than you, or tear me from your presence.
One thing I’m pleased to know, and to consider: They took you from me, and me from you, but they could never burn my fascination with my wolf. My desire to see you, know your peace, even when I took you for a foe.
You have always been the sight fondest for my eyes. Know this, my Fe Puppy. My mate, here and in all worlds.
2
I remember, yes. Distantly; as if dreaming.
I remember… I thought it was strange at the time. That you permitted my approach. Told myself it was a trap or that [ … ] perhaps it was only that you were weary. That your bones feel the exhaustion seeping through my own.
I watched you through the brush, and didn’t act. Didn’t strike; the thought never occurred to me. It would have been a shame to set onslaught on a sleeping wolf, I must have told myself. A game ill-played against a seeming-antagonist so majestic.
I didn’t wish to harm you; I know that now, and clearly.
It hurt to look upon you long. What I recall of those visions, those sightings [ … ] is followed by a day’s worth of blistering headaches. Pains I told myself were incidental. Pains I attributed to the posturing of varied nobles
In fairness, their natterings did yield countless irritations.
And in truth, I know it wasn’t that. It wasn’t them. It was the sight of you, and—
I knew you too well, or some part of me did.
I wish I would have known you better. More clearly.
[ … ]
Some day, we’ll learn what they did to us.
Some day, we’ll ruin them all. Through hunt, through machination, through any route we please.
Gods, I’d be unsurprised to find the perpetrators thought themselves virtuous. Acting for the good of the realm, ‘to spare the kingdom.’ As if I could care a shit about devastation when I had my wolf to love.
As if anything could matter more than you, or tear me from your presence.
One thing I’m pleased to know, and to consider: They took you from me, and me from you, but they could never burn my fascination with my wolf. My desire to see you, know your peace, even when I took you for a foe.
You have always been the sight fondest for my eyes. Know this, my
FePuppy. My mate, here and in all worlds.