05-03-2009, 10:52 AM
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500+
His mother. This information from the past that was being shared with the black fae clarified the masked coyote’s personality. She did not doubt that his emotional distancing was a survival technique, one that would serve him well; when his opponents could not read him, could not see what it was next that would happen, could not see what drove him to do what it was that he did, the coyote would conquer his opponent mentally and physically. However, the lack of a mother’s nurturing touch, indeed her touch would have been fatal to him, explained too his lack of emotion. While intuitive, emotion was also a thing learned. Perhaps the male did not become emotionally involved because he never learned how, or perhaps he was afraid, even, that what his mother had done would happen again. Yet—the woman thought that perhaps she analyzed too much. Perhaps what his mother had done had simply been a catalyst for what it was that the male now did. Perhaps his character was simply that need to be something more than a creature, to be a symbol, and survive.
For a moment, the woman wondered if the stranger that had saved him had lingered. She wondered if that stranger had cared for him, and she wondered how he had survived. But then another question arose stronger, placed with priority within her throat by that curiosity of this coyote. For a moment, the woman was silent, wondering is such a question were rightfully hers to ask. Truly, she did not know, but she could not let the question go unspoken. "What moved your mother to do that...?" Why? At first the woad marked warrior thought that she asked the question to better understand herself, to understand her father and why he was the way that he was. But then she realized that this was not so. She realized that she asked the question because she wanted to understand this coyote, to understand Onus. At times she felt that he were so close, or that she was so close to understanding. Within the simply uttered, I know, the woman thought that she had heard something more. But the next words made her believe otherwise.
She had simply nodded in response. The woman had known from the moment she had discovered that it had been Corvus who had nearly killed Onus that her father had bitten off more than he could handle. But she wondered who would prevail. In the stories, the Champions of Justice always won, but the warrior was not so sure that it worked that way in reality. She had seen otherwise so many times.... That question. Her head turned, almost abruptly, to face him, the white orbs once more seeking the place where his eyes should be. For a moment she was silent. Many times she had sought the answer to that question. It had not been because she had known him, considering him her friend. "Because the world cannot afford to lose someone like you," the alto melody replied at length. Yes, what he did she had never seen before, and the world required the purging that he gave. But perhaps that was not it either. Unlike the coyote, the Dahlian Warrior was not selfless or altruistic. Then almost tentatively, she said, "Because I did not want to lose you." And she knew it to be true.
500+
His mother. This information from the past that was being shared with the black fae clarified the masked coyote’s personality. She did not doubt that his emotional distancing was a survival technique, one that would serve him well; when his opponents could not read him, could not see what it was next that would happen, could not see what drove him to do what it was that he did, the coyote would conquer his opponent mentally and physically. However, the lack of a mother’s nurturing touch, indeed her touch would have been fatal to him, explained too his lack of emotion. While intuitive, emotion was also a thing learned. Perhaps the male did not become emotionally involved because he never learned how, or perhaps he was afraid, even, that what his mother had done would happen again. Yet—the woman thought that perhaps she analyzed too much. Perhaps what his mother had done had simply been a catalyst for what it was that the male now did. Perhaps his character was simply that need to be something more than a creature, to be a symbol, and survive.
For a moment, the woman wondered if the stranger that had saved him had lingered. She wondered if that stranger had cared for him, and she wondered how he had survived. But then another question arose stronger, placed with priority within her throat by that curiosity of this coyote. For a moment, the woman was silent, wondering is such a question were rightfully hers to ask. Truly, she did not know, but she could not let the question go unspoken. "What moved your mother to do that...?" Why? At first the woad marked warrior thought that she asked the question to better understand herself, to understand her father and why he was the way that he was. But then she realized that this was not so. She realized that she asked the question because she wanted to understand this coyote, to understand Onus. At times she felt that he were so close, or that she was so close to understanding. Within the simply uttered, I know, the woman thought that she had heard something more. But the next words made her believe otherwise.
She had simply nodded in response. The woman had known from the moment she had discovered that it had been Corvus who had nearly killed Onus that her father had bitten off more than he could handle. But she wondered who would prevail. In the stories, the Champions of Justice always won, but the warrior was not so sure that it worked that way in reality. She had seen otherwise so many times.... That question. Her head turned, almost abruptly, to face him, the white orbs once more seeking the place where his eyes should be. For a moment she was silent. Many times she had sought the answer to that question. It had not been because she had known him, considering him her friend. "Because the world cannot afford to lose someone like you," the alto melody replied at length. Yes, what he did she had never seen before, and the world required the purging that he gave. But perhaps that was not it either. Unlike the coyote, the Dahlian Warrior was not selfless or altruistic. Then almost tentatively, she said, "Because I did not want to lose you." And she knew it to be true.