He blundered through the quivering tendril willow blankets in a blind epiphany. He felt as if he were blind and so full of vision all at once. It was like he was open, like there was some great big crack, something split inside him, and now the world was just seeping into the crack. He was drunk with the world. He flinched with pleasure as he parted the veil of leaves with his nose, faintly tickled, faintly disturbed. He stood there, in the shade of the willow, staring out into the world while the world stared back at him. A godless world, a world that continued to thrive even though Pangur was gone. Pangur had abandoned this place, and yet it was so rich with life, so thick with silence and light. Something in him clicked, and something in him cracked. The chasm in his stomach broadened. But he didn't get it, he didn't understand, and it scared him. He stood there trembling as the world stared back at him, defiant, godless, infinite.
What came out of his throat was a strange sound. An animal, crawling and grappling and groveling. A moan, a snarl, a whine. He was so lost, and he couldn't... no.. he <i>didn't want to</i> accept the world he stood toe to toe with, the <i>wolf</i> he stood toe to toe with: himself. Kiche was himself, but he was not himself. He felt the same in some sense, but other parts of him were raw and new and painful. It hurt to stretch those parts. Part of him felt as if he has always been this way, and part of him knew that he had never been this way, and another part of him didn't <i>want</i> to be this way. If he could have just curled up right there and whined and cried until Aisling and his God came back he would. Sometimes he entertained thoughts of redemption, salvation, and deliverance, but other times he was just confused.
Vaguely, he remembered where he had come from, and tried to compare that to where he had arrived. A clinical linoleum surface, air that was turbid and clogged with human smells. Voices, noises, always noises. A voice from yesterdays echoed in his brain, <i> "If the people like you so much why are you here, instead of with them?"</i> It occurred to him that this voice had a context and a meaning, "<i>Your a wolf too and no better!</i>" The echoes frustrated him and he could just barely stomach the shame. "<i>"Believe what you wish, but you can't fight what you are!" </i> He didn't know what to think. He didn't know how to respond to that thought, to claim that he was done fighting or that there was nothing to fight about, whatever that meant. All he could bare to understand was that he could feel the leaves tickling his nose and the light stinging his eyes, and that he was a stranger to himself and everyone around him.
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(This post was last modified: Sep 12, 2012, 06:16 PM by Kiche.)