Another gust of wind swirled up from behind me, ricocheting off the stone walls and sending another chill up my spine. I was deftly reminded how unsuited I was to this place, but all thoughts of the cold were put on hold as I watched her jump when she noticed my presence. The course of events to follow was evident in my mind, and I cringed even as she put her injured paw down upon the ground. Only when she had countervailed her balance, relieving the weight from the paw once more, did she lift her gaze to look upon me. Even from the height of the flat rock that I stood upon it would be plain to see that I was slight of stature, and hardly built for the cold that swirled about us. I stood in silence, letting her gaze rest upon me, perhaps even study me. Where this might make another wolf uncomfortable, I simply remained quietly in waiting of her mental assessment of me. I was well aware that I was not a common sight within these lands, and so it was only natural for one to fully assess my presence upon first discovery. I did much the same, noting the dense fluff of her fur – made for weather such as this – but beneath all that she was probably no larger than myself. Of course the most poignant of factors was the slow drip of blood from her paw, and I wondered what amongst the snow and stone of the crags could staunch the bleeding.
Only when I felt her eyes drop away from me did I revert my gaze to her face, and it was then that it became quite apparent to me that her pain went much deeper than her paw. Even before she spoke I could see the signs of emotional duress. The wearied brow, the ever so slightly downturned state of her lips – they were much the same features as I had seen in my own reflection of late. Her eyes remain downcast, studying the snowy ground tainted red with blood, and spoke of the injuries she bore. Taking a deep breath, I let it pass out through my nostrils and a cloud of vapor collected before me for only a moment before it was swept away by another gust of wind. I knew there was not much that could be said for her statement, a damaged soul was perhaps not entirely beyond repair. After all, I had heard many and more stories of this ‘imprinting’ bond that was by all means meant to complete one’s soul, though I had my doubts in its power myself. But I did not think such a bond was what she spoke of. No, it ran deeper than that.
A flicker of thought passed through my mind – what would the repercussions be if I leapt down from the rock, placing myself closer to her. She may lash out at me, though the likelihood of that seemed slim; after all she seemed to be baring much of herself to me simply in her statement. Also she was injured, and was not apt to put pressure upon the paw again unless absolutely necessary. The action would take me out of the direct line of the gusting wind, allowing me to find shelter within the slight fissure she had placed herself within. To be sure, the benefits far outweighed the potential hazards of the action. And so only a moment’s breath after her words, I leapt down from the rock, placing myself in front of her. Honest, swirling orange eyes sought hers as I shifted my weight slightly before lowering my hindquarters to the snowy earth. Whether she were to lift her gaze to mine or not, I spoke sincerely.
“The damage to mine was great, though I think it has lessened over times.”
Maybe there was no salve or balm for the wounds to a soul, but even though I so often recalled the lost faces of my mate and daughter, I knew they would want me to live a full life. Even so, every time I found a touch of happiness I turned away from it. That had been the reason I had left Moladion after I had first met Coszcotl. The thought that I had found a friend, a potential home, had stabbed at wounds far too fresh, and I had run away from that possibility. Now I had returned and taken up residence within the woodland pack, but I was not sure how long it would last.
I did not reach out to her, seek to comfort her in the way a friend might. But I did not turn away from her either. I simply sat, gazing upon the pain mirrored in her face, one I recognized so well as that of a damaged soul.