i don’t wanna take it out on you , take it out on you ; but i do
‘You know nothing of what I have done.’
Björn’s words pound a deafening rhythm in Tigerlily’s mind, drowning out all other sounds.
‘You know nothing.’ Her vision swims as a festering hatred scorches her internally. With a cruel kind of clarity, she recalls the face of the grey stallion perfectly, despite only having ever laid eyes on him two brief moments in her whole life.
‘What I have done.’ Disbelief ices her joints, freezing her in place before the angry grullo king as he steps toward her. She sees the anger in him, hears the rage in his voice – fury reserved for her alone. But it is not this whole other side of Björn that she eventually recoils from. It is the words that tumble from his mouth as he turns his back on her, cutting and cold like shards of ice. She stands numb as he continues on to address all those who’ve gathered. The hazy, disjointed memory of seeing her king facing three others compounds upon the sickening understanding that washes over her now as Björn’s pronouncement makes everything dreadfully clear. Tigerlily realises that it was not
against Björn that the demon from her past had stood,
but with him, as an ally.
And still she hears nothing but the venom-laced words that he’d snapped at her; nothing had ever hurt her quite this much.
‘I will tell you what you’ve done…’. Tigerlily found herself gasping for breath as pain blossomed within her chest, and she lurched away from Björn, her legs almost giving way beneath her. She fled from the gathering, deaf and now blind as tears blotted out the features of a place that she’d thought to be home. It was to the place she’d once felt safe that she fled – that covered clearing in the jungle, with its burbling stream of sweet water and distant backdrop of melodic birdsong. Tigerlily heard none of this now, and saw not the beauty that she had so marvelled at. Her legs folded beneath her and she crashed heavily, a strangled cry of pain ripping from her throat as she felt the skin on her forelegs scrape and tear against the friction of the soil and stones beneath her. Björn would tell
her what
she had done? Great heaving sobs wracked the buckskin mare’s body, and her head lolled in despair.
Björn could never even begin to understand what she had done.
True, in her paralysing fear, she had misread the situation, and might’ve messed up whatever dishonourable plan they were devising. Perhaps he felt embarrassed and ashamed, and some small part of Tigerlily that wasn’t drowning in sorrow fiercely hoped he did feel these things (because if that was the company he kept, then he deserved such humiliation)... It had gone against every instinct that had been screaming within her to flee and save herself. But out of some kind of insane loyalty to one she’d hardly known, Tigerlily had charged instead. Threw herself between one she cared for and the thing that she feared most.
Why? Because she’d been hurt terribly by the grey stallion; what he’d done to her had broken her. She’d believed it would kill what was left of her damaged spirit if she just stood by, turned a blind eye and left Björn to the mercy of one whom Tigerlily truly believed to be merciless, heartless.
But it was not the grey beast (whose torment often darkened Tigerlily’s slumber) that would be the death of her. It was Björn. His cutting words. His indifference. Everything, everything was broken, just when Tigerlily had begun to hope.
The mare lost track of how long she lay there, but the callous words replaying in her mind gave way to the sound of hurried approach, and it was like the very earth beneath her trembled in fear of what was to come. With a surge of desperate energy, she rose clumsily to her hooves, skinned knees protesting as fresh blood beaded upon her damaged flesh. The ache in her chest flared up again when she laid her wild blue eyes upon the scarred face of the one who’d healed her, only to tear her hopeful heart to shreds.
“Go! Just leave me!” Her squeal of anguish was piercing, and she staggered away, desperate to maintain distance between them, suddenly very afraid of what he might do to her.
“I am the fool,” she sobbed savagely, her ears pinned, nostrils flared, unable to look at him, body tensed to retreat further or strike if he came any closer.
“For trusting you. For believing every false word, dripping like honey from your lips, since the beginning.” Tigerlily’s chest heaved, and her body trembled. Her accusatory words had been born of pain and betrayal, and they hung heavy in the air between them. It was the erratic beating of her heart that pounded in her ears now, as she fought the urge to flee. She’d learned long ago that not even running could save her.
Running did nothing except set the monsters inside them free.
T I G E R L I L Y
it feels like i’m breaking down, watching my words cut you in two