12-12-2009, 09:46 AM
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Eh, this is crap. Sorry :/ Word Count: --
time will heal even a heart of steel
He reacted much like any coyote did when faced with her opinions, and usually she did not care; usually she took great delight in their anger and their hurt. But now she felt something like shame, and her eyes landed on the ground and stayed there as he barked at her. She was still angry, and she was still sickened by her mother's actions, but she was not used to feeling confusion. She revered her bloodline more than anything, and now here he was, a mix of what she hated and what she loved. He was messing up the jigsaw, sullying her world; unsettling everything she believed in. She stood still; silent. His voice grew less angry and more bitter, and he sighed and sat — she could hear him do it, but she did not look up. Simultaneously she listened to him and ransacked her emotions for some that made sense, finding nothing of what she was used to finding. But when his final sentence landed she burst out and looked up at him, angry in return. Her face was furious, but her voice was controlled, a shake lurking in the back of her throat. "You don't know the hell that I've been through because of coyotes." She spat the word, and there was a desperate look on her face, as if she pleaded him to take it back; to be something other than what he was. Life would be easier if she could just hate them in peace, if she could go about her life in ignorance, instead of having to face this painful revelation. She had been here before, and then she had lost the weight around her stomach. But this one did not attack her, and it only angered her further.
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Eh, this is crap. Sorry :/ Word Count: --
He reacted much like any coyote did when faced with her opinions, and usually she did not care; usually she took great delight in their anger and their hurt. But now she felt something like shame, and her eyes landed on the ground and stayed there as he barked at her. She was still angry, and she was still sickened by her mother's actions, but she was not used to feeling confusion. She revered her bloodline more than anything, and now here he was, a mix of what she hated and what she loved. He was messing up the jigsaw, sullying her world; unsettling everything she believed in. She stood still; silent. His voice grew less angry and more bitter, and he sighed and sat — she could hear him do it, but she did not look up. Simultaneously she listened to him and ransacked her emotions for some that made sense, finding nothing of what she was used to finding. But when his final sentence landed she burst out and looked up at him, angry in return. Her face was furious, but her voice was controlled, a shake lurking in the back of her throat. "You don't know the hell that I've been through because of coyotes." She spat the word, and there was a desperate look on her face, as if she pleaded him to take it back; to be something other than what he was. Life would be easier if she could just hate them in peace, if she could go about her life in ignorance, instead of having to face this painful revelation. She had been here before, and then she had lost the weight around her stomach. But this one did not attack her, and it only angered her further.