the branch will not break

The Tainn knew there wasn't a single soul in his pack that would agree with him on the topic of his mother. He knew, yet he still talked about it. "Zera, I..." With a sigh, the prince contemplated how he'd word his next sentence. 'She's a bit fragile.. I guess an apology would be best... Let it all go...' Keeping a stern expression, Darrah looked directly into his sisters eyes. "I didn't mean that.. I'm sorry.. It wasn't her fault, she didn't ask for it to happen. You're right." He knew she didn't ask for it, but her actions were careless nonetheless.

"Heh, just three months huh?" It really had only been such a short period of time, but to the Prince it might as well of been a lifetime. He couldn't eat, sleep, converse. The boy was practically a zombie while his mother was away. "Then I suppose.. I really am just overreacting, as I said. You'll have to forgive me sister, I've been a bit delusional as of late..." Or was it selfish? He couldn't quite decipher the difference these days. "If she died..." He'd never really thought about that before, what would the yearling of done had news returned that Nayeli was dead, instead of back in pack territory? 'Honestly there might not be much of a difference. I'd still be angry, bitter, alone..' Knowing that best not be something said aloud, he decided on a fib. "Then I guess I'd be worse off.. I should learn to appreciate what I have, not what I could of had..."

Not positive enough that his white lie would satisfy his sister enough, Darrah decided it might be best to just head back for the night. It was enough they were talking again, for now at least. 'If we stand out here arguing for much longer, I'll lose her again.' Now that he had Zera back in his life, he wasn't going to let her go. The young boy couldn't bear to be separated from her again. "Perhaps we should head off to bed now, we can talk again in the morning.. That is, if you're not too mad." He turned his back to the inky Princess, assuring himself she wouldn't be able to see him if he'd start crying again. "I know I can't stop saying it, but I really am sorry Zera..."

(This post was last modified: Apr 28, 2015, 03:01 AM by Darrah.)

At some point,

I started looking at the ground more than the sky

It’s hard even to breathe.

Quietly, reason came to her. First through the nose, settling in the pause of her lungs, dispersing out over her tired body. There was nothing one night could change. Her haughty fire fled, leaving an aged soul cold with fatigue. Zera always knew Darrah was different than her, more sensitive to the sweeping ideas around a moment than the flame-quick impulse of detail. Every word he'd interpret, but never fully understand. Those pragmatic instances tended to resonate and brew strongly with him, so she decided it was best to leave the coals where they lay dying. Zera was aware, even in youth, that change came with forces stronger than the wind. Forces someone would need to feel with open skin, see in broad daylight. Change would come with time, the strongest force of all. Until then, she felt the old memory of a resolute bluejay migrating to the soft place behind her eyes. She remembered lurching in the tall grass, creeping onto those bright colors, thirsting the plume of energy as it pecked away at the ground. That jay saw her before she could push puppy teeth into those ripened feathers, and it bounded to the sky for a moment, settling down on a bare branch. The weak twig bowed in effort to hold the frightened bird, but promised to hold with all the strength it had, that one soul. Zera knew her brother was that blighted bird, propelling energy at the first thing that promised to care.

Like a new branch, bearing the weight of darkness, smoke, and Darrah, she promised not to break. She would have to hold more than leaves and birds one day. One day she would hold the weight of the sun and the wind and the rain. So she glanced to her brother one final time that night, sunlike eyes giving their best effort to forgive his firey ones, and smiled through his words; too tired to hold any more words. Her memory held onto that image of the branch, and undauntedly she turned her shoulder, feeling her heart cringe with soft pain. "Yes it's late, good night, Darrah." And as if she'd even heard his words she spoke over her shoulder, "You're braver than you think for admitting that."

zera

<i>the end <3</i>