I, too, have known autumn too long (p, j)

Pripyat Soul · 04-26-2011, 01:43 PM

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<333 In Optime as well

Long, steady strides took him towards the most eastern edges of his tiny world. Ever since Pripyat Soul’s rather un-triumphant return to his father and Phoenix Valley he had not dared to slip past the borders again. The guilt that he was not contributing enough, the ever widening chasm between him and the others, and the fear that he might not return if he did leave kept him glue close to home. The slate boy had been away too long and he had to make up for lost time, but even if he physically existed within the boundaries of his home he was still very much absent mentally and emotionally. Existing alongside his father was easier now; he turned a blind eye to the missing limb and simply pretended that they were both very much whole beings. He pretended that they weren’t both mourning the absence of his mother. He pretended that his heart was all in, when really he wasn’t even sure if he had any heart for anyone or anything left.

In small ways the young boy did contribute, but never overtly, never alongside the others. Leaving a pile of nails he had collected by whatever building needed reconstruction. Catching a hare and leaving it on the door of the church for his father. Whatever small acts he could muster in private he did, but whether they knew the friendly ghost was him or not he did not care. Stubborn and sorry for himself he still couldn’t bring it upon himself to mix and mingle. When he tried the anxiety was too much, it knotted his stomach and pressed hard against his lungs and the only escape was in solitude, which was how he spent most of his time.

It was this quest for solitude that sent him almost out of Phoenix Valley, right on the edge and he lingered along the border, following it south. Patrolling perhaps, Jefferson would be pleased with that, but Pripyat really had no intention of meeting and greeting strangers. And so it was when he saw her he almost turned tail and ran the other way. She perched on what he perceived to be the edge of the world, for what lay past the ocean still mystified him, but she did not immediately turn to face him. And so he stopped and took her in. Nothing about her reminded him of anyone in the pack, everything about her seemed warm against the grey of the day whereas the others all seemed so grey themselves. This was comforting and it was only her total unfamiliarity that gave him the courage to approach, slowly, brilliant eyes a start contrast from the rest of him that seemed to be melting into the oncoming evening. “Hey.” Gentle and barely there, he waited for her to turn away from the ocean and prayed that she still seemed foreign when he saw her face.

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