I can't help but fear I've done this wrong
Cause seldom second chances come along
He had hurt him, hurt him bad. Dances hadn’t meant to, but in a moment of weakness and fear, he had let his desperation get the best of him, and he had pushed Neph much too hard. He had frozen, not able to comprehend what he’d done, but the sound of pain from his oldest and truest friend, it had frightened Dances more than anything ever had – he was the monster now. They had been dying slowly together, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t trust himself anymore. He was dangerous. And so he had to leave, and his heart broke, because to leave Neph to fend for himself was a death sentence. Some part of Dances had turned to stone when he left, and it shattered upon the ground when he finally stopped running.
The broken pieces lay scattered at Sai’s hooves. Once upon a time, she had pieced Dances With Wolves back together. And she tried, she tried her best to do it again. But there was no fixing this. So she just stayed with him, close by his side throughout the dark night, whispering into his ear again and again. ‘You’re not alone. I’m with you, you’re not alone.’
Other voices whispered to him now, bearing down upon him the moment he entered his glade. Voices that weren’t so kind. Voices that had left him. Voices that he’d never hear again. They turned his place of sanctuary into a place of torment, and they chased him, as the wolves had once chased a colt into the sea. Then, he had been slow to react, and now, his grief made him helpless, and he burst out into the open, emptier inside than ever before, as if every good memory had been taken from him, leaving him hollow and cold. Dances gasped for air, and faintly registered another sound, and he searched with dull eyes – seeing nothing at first.
The shadows were moving.
Fear clawed at his chest for the briefest of moments, but quickly subsided. His heart was still beating in his chest, but it was so bruised and battered that nothing could make it any worse. If not for the promises he’d made, and held himself to, he didn’t know where he’d be. A deep breath inhaled. The air was fresh and earthy. There was the sharp scent of leaves. The muddled scent of the many who had been here earlier. And a scent that was not so stale.
It hadn’t been darkness that had come for him after all. Just a like soul, lost and alone, just like he was.
As Dances approached slowly, he realised that the mare was in distress of some kind, and this stirred him into action, brushed at his broken and empathetic heart with a fleeting and feather-light touch. With a hushed nicker, and a gentle snort, he approached slowly, coming to stand near her (but not too close, not yet, not yet). He swallowed, wanting to help, but not knowing how. He had so little left to give, and he regretted coming to this place. Revisiting the past hadn’t given him closure, it had only served to remind him of everyone who was lost to him now. Instead of continuing to heal, his heart had been torn anew. There was nothing that could help him now, or so he believed, but this mare seemed in need of help, and he was the only one around.
So, Dances With Wolves stayed, and he put his muzzle to the ear of a stranger, and tried his best to comfort her. “You’re not alone,” he murmured softly. “I’m with you, you’re not alone.”
DANCES WITH WOLVES
If time can break us, will it make us strong?
|