hell is repetition

Gabriel de le Poer · 10-07-2010, 06:31 PM

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He stood on the rise of a slope and felt the cold wind try and cut through his fur. It did not breach the thick wolf-pelt of a coat that he wore, but it stung at the exposed scars that spattered his body like constellations. His eyes roamed the empty landscape below, a field of tall tan-brown grass, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. From behind him came the smell of salt-water, masking anything from below. It didn’t matter. Inferni had once more fallen into pattern. It had fallen into repetition. For Gabriel, that was hell—he despised repetition as much as he despised stupidity.

It had been three months since Haku’s death. His body had been destroyed, and all that remained scattered amongst those who deserved the pieces. Conor had asked for the peculiar necklace, which Gabriel had allowed him. After all, he too wore the sign of his dead father and no one would deny that Ahren had been a monster. For his mother went the jawbone, and all that remained was what was intended for his sister. Gabriel kept nothing. He had the scars, and they were enough.

He had retreated within himself for the past few weeks. The only living being he saw much of was Enkiel, who had been pestering him about medical knowledge. Gabriel had taught him how to set broken bones and how to stop bleeding. Beyond that, he had taught the boy how to fight. Though small, the jackal was fast—he was not strong enough to be a fighter, but it was clear to Gabriel what his role within the clan would be.

The black and tan coat (which was becoming more black then it had been during the summer) was ruffled in the wind, and Gabriel pinned his ears against the rush of cold air. He exhaled into it, realizing as he had weeks ago that things were back to normal. This repetition, this hell, it stung as bitterly as the autumn wind.

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