03-08-2019, 01:37 PM
The wolf loomed, too close for comfort.
Nim folded up her legs and rested her chin on her knees. She did not look the beast in his golden eyes, unwilling to risk seeming belligerent. Instead she contemplated the grass sprouted between her toes, trusting he would not snap down at her bowed head. The grey lady herself had led Nimeda to this place of twilight skies and riddles and she was reluctant to let go just because she was unwelcome. When the wolves kept their distance it was an easy thing to ignore, but truthfully she did not enjoy the sense of being disliked. The swirl of some ancient guilt, not even tied to specific memory, deflated her already forlorn mood. “The last I met one of your kin, he was in the throes of a nightmare. It drew me from some distance, and I tried to help. But his companion found the final death anyway. Before that Bear warned me not to hurt Jon. I didn’t. I won’t. I swear it.”
It had the air of confession. My name is Nimeda. Feelings she couldn’t quite quantify oozed in muddied waters until she felt herself risk coming adrift. Then the wolf’s nose rammed her arm, the weight of him shifting her off centre. A palm braced against the dirt. “Why must I go, old one? You cannot be protecting the troll stone. I’m trying to help someone, but--”
The wolf growled. A flash of teeth warned her to silence.
The hurt flashed deep across her expression. She crawled to her feet and ran.
Nim folded up her legs and rested her chin on her knees. She did not look the beast in his golden eyes, unwilling to risk seeming belligerent. Instead she contemplated the grass sprouted between her toes, trusting he would not snap down at her bowed head. The grey lady herself had led Nimeda to this place of twilight skies and riddles and she was reluctant to let go just because she was unwelcome. When the wolves kept their distance it was an easy thing to ignore, but truthfully she did not enjoy the sense of being disliked. The swirl of some ancient guilt, not even tied to specific memory, deflated her already forlorn mood. “The last I met one of your kin, he was in the throes of a nightmare. It drew me from some distance, and I tried to help. But his companion found the final death anyway. Before that Bear warned me not to hurt Jon. I didn’t. I won’t. I swear it.”
It had the air of confession. My name is Nimeda. Feelings she couldn’t quite quantify oozed in muddied waters until she felt herself risk coming adrift. Then the wolf’s nose rammed her arm, the weight of him shifting her off centre. A palm braced against the dirt. “Why must I go, old one? You cannot be protecting the troll stone. I’m trying to help someone, but--”
The wolf growled. A flash of teeth warned her to silence.
The hurt flashed deep across her expression. She crawled to her feet and ran.