she watches him, dark eyes unblinking, almost cold, almost hard. it is something that is in her, that hardness, coldness, something that lies coiled in her heart ready to take over should she give it the chance. her life has given her the tools to become a monster, sorrow, emptiness, loneliness… so far she has chosen a different path but sometimes she can feel the temptation, beckoning her a darker way. she lets it take hold for a moment, tries it on like a second skin and is surprised by how easily it suits her. her expression changes from emptiness to irritation as she watches panic overwhelm him, take over his mind and body… her people are bold, brave, strong..not this. she stands rigidly, straight and proud, watching as he falls to pieces before her. she does not move as he rushes backwards only snorts in disgust, surprising even herself.
her own blood is pumping fiercely through her veins, burning hotly, threatening her to choose. a war rages in her head, one she never would have dreamed of a year ago. part of her soul, deranged by grief and now desperately angry with the creature who had brought it to the front of her mind so abruptly, wishes she would step forward and erase him from the world. she never would have thought this violence lived within her but it does. another part of her wishes to flee, to burst from the treeline and run until she stands at the top of the peak, lungs burning in agony, and finally part of her that wishes to crumple into a wretched heap just as he has done. she is just as broken.
her eyes are glazed as she chooses, advancing one deliberate step after another, slowly closing in the distance between them. she keeps her head high, silhouetted against the dawn, until she is within inches. looking down at him, she sees herself, broken, shattered….with a soft huff she lets out the breath she had been holding in.
the anger and disgust that had engulfed her suddenly burn out and she shudders. she reaches down with her velvet nose, all gentleness now, to brush the long tangled mane from his face. she indulges in the moment, wishing she could bestow these gentle touches on her rodina, and traces the bold curve of his head with her nose, lingering almost intimately. her voice is soft, quiet as she speaks, not wishing to alarm him any further than she already has. jsme spolu v našem žalu. she lowers herself before him, dropping softly to her knees to lie unthreateningly at his feet.
