>>I will take a cue from Mystress and write this in sections. It
should make it easier to read for everyone. Quite a lot happened to
Baal today, so I still have a lot to sort out. But I will get there.
>>Small amount of blood mentioned for any who would prefer to avoid reading about it.
The
rain has not stopped. The only good it has done for me is to wash the
blood from my fur. Though as I walk a trail of red follows me and I
question if even the cleansing is a good thing. I am certain it is not.
My
wounds are burning now, begging me to rest, to allow them peace. But
rest will not come for me. My rage quivers just beneath the weary pain,
dragging me back to only hours before. That stag, how I despised him.
If only he had not been there!
Everything would have been fine. If only...
Without
him there I could have sent the doe to join the fawn. The fawn... Even
now the memeory of her trembles through me. The chill burn of a body
that had once held so much life. But I had taken that. Taken it and
spilled her heat upon the emerald ground.
My chest. It grows
tighter with the memory. Chilled shards again assault me, fill me,
wound me. Wounds far greater than any the stag had given me. My body
sways and I fall, knees sinking deep within the earths sodden flesh.
Fresh sobs tear their way from my already searing throat.
I can not continue like this.
But the thought of her. Those eyes... I lurch heavily to legs that do not wish to carry me, but my will is greater than theirs.
I
run. I run from her, from those eyes. Hooves flashing through the
silvered rain, reddened mud. To where, I do not know. I know only that
I can not stop. To stop is to accept, to accept is to fall. I will not
fall.
My path believes otherwise. My traitorous hooves lead me
unerring to her. I try to stop, to turn, but the earth is slick with
the tears of the sky and I fall. Fall before her. She says nothing, but
her actions speak louder. She cowers from me.
I do not understand.
Quivering
with fear, pain, misery, I do not understand. I had thought myself
forgiven and perhaps I am, but it seems I must still atone for my sins.
For her death that should not have been. I rise to trembling legs, my
head cast down. I can do little to show her my sorrow. I can only hope
that she understands.
I was wrong. I know that now. I know you
forgive me. I do. But does it matter anymore? I took your life, and had
I not been stopped, perhaps I would have taken the life of another. I
can not live like this.
A thunder of hooves. It seems I will not have to.
I
do not pause, not even to bid my good-byes to her, for I know I shall
see her again. I find some comfort that. I hope the comfort will last,
it seems it shall be all that I will know.
Over the hill,
tearing through the rain, I run. I can hear the hoof beats behind me.
Quick, determined. They do not falter and I know. I do not need to see
the one who follows me with such tenacity because I know.
The hunt will soon begin.
