01-18-2012, 11:39 PM
The words of Orin made him stop, the blood draining from his face. He leaned on the wall for support. He could see his mate, at least, but her words made him shudder. How could she know what had happened to him? He had never told anyone that his own father had raped him. No one except his mother, and that had been just a few short days ago. He felt nauseated as Orin's screams continued, how he had been conspiring with Liam, how he was as tainted as Liam and Lucifer. She didn't know Lucifer's father. She didn't know his own mother. She couldn't see that his lineage was equal parts good and bad, she couldn't see he strove to be more like his mother than his father.
He was still leaning against the wall when the door opened. His head jerked up, expecting it to be Orin out for his blood, but it was the leader, a woman he had come to consider a friend. Her look was clear, and he nodded as she returned to the others. He turned, seeing other pack mates gathered, hearing the accusations. He swore he could see Orin's ideas mirrored in their gazes, and he leaned with his back on the wall and slid down. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on them, making himself as small as he felt.
He could hear Skye's words to Orin, but the kindness of her speech failed to lighten his heart. Yes, she pointed out the good he had done for the pack, but what was the point when he was to be judged by those he shared blood with? Yes, Lucifer was his father, but he had never hurt a woman, nor would he. No matter the rage he felt, no matter how the woman might hurt him, he would never raise a hand to a female. And yes, Liam was... no, had been his son, but he would never hurt an innocent child simply for their fur color.
How the pale scholar wanted to start yelling, wanted to proclaim his innocence of the deeds Orin laid at his feet, deeds that had yet to be committed, deeds that he would never commit. Yes, he had a temper, but it was rare it got the best of him. The rare times it did, his anger came out in words long before he resorted to violence. He closed his eyes. When he opened them he was staring into the gaze of Auntie Rosie, who had left her house to see what the commotion was about. A cat came up onto the porch, a long furred black cat. He felt a sharp sting as the cat swiped at him with a slap of it's claws. The feline then ran away, hissing. "Great, even the cats think I'm some kind of monster." His voice was a resentful and rueful mutter, meant only for himself and Rhiannon to hear.
He found himself longing to return to Crimson Dreams, to return to his mother and her comfort. Then he remembered she and Soran were moving to the new pack further north, New Dawn, and he felt a bitter resentment rise up in his throat. This just wasn't fair.
((WC:544))
He was still leaning against the wall when the door opened. His head jerked up, expecting it to be Orin out for his blood, but it was the leader, a woman he had come to consider a friend. Her look was clear, and he nodded as she returned to the others. He turned, seeing other pack mates gathered, hearing the accusations. He swore he could see Orin's ideas mirrored in their gazes, and he leaned with his back on the wall and slid down. He pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his forehead on them, making himself as small as he felt.
He could hear Skye's words to Orin, but the kindness of her speech failed to lighten his heart. Yes, she pointed out the good he had done for the pack, but what was the point when he was to be judged by those he shared blood with? Yes, Lucifer was his father, but he had never hurt a woman, nor would he. No matter the rage he felt, no matter how the woman might hurt him, he would never raise a hand to a female. And yes, Liam was... no, had been his son, but he would never hurt an innocent child simply for their fur color.
How the pale scholar wanted to start yelling, wanted to proclaim his innocence of the deeds Orin laid at his feet, deeds that had yet to be committed, deeds that he would never commit. Yes, he had a temper, but it was rare it got the best of him. The rare times it did, his anger came out in words long before he resorted to violence. He closed his eyes. When he opened them he was staring into the gaze of Auntie Rosie, who had left her house to see what the commotion was about. A cat came up onto the porch, a long furred black cat. He felt a sharp sting as the cat swiped at him with a slap of it's claws. The feline then ran away, hissing. "Great, even the cats think I'm some kind of monster." His voice was a resentful and rueful mutter, meant only for himself and Rhiannon to hear.
He found himself longing to return to Crimson Dreams, to return to his mother and her comfort. Then he remembered she and Soran were moving to the new pack further north, New Dawn, and he felt a bitter resentment rise up in his throat. This just wasn't fair.
((WC:544))