05-19-2008, 12:36 PM
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The coyotewolf could have contested the girl's claim that he was not the worse of all the others she had known, but he could see how and why she'd come to that conclusion based on what she knew and he wasn't ready to explain the details of exactly why he would have to disagree with her. No one really knew all the details. Maybe not even those that had been directly involved (did he know that Phasma was dead already?). Maybe no one ever would.
Laruku found himself giving Cercelee the same small, weak half-smile that he'd given his cousin.
I guess that's true,he said of Cercelee's assertion. It was strange for him to hear her call Colibri his mother though, as he hadn't thought of her as such for several years now. All the same, he no longer tried to deny that she had a connection to him and had played some significant role as a parent in the few months after he'd been born. As his cousin's child continued to speak, Laruku found that he could understand why Iskata had drawn the comparison between the younger Sadira (whether she recognized that or not) and himself. Family had always been a controversial and emotional subject and even now, though he acknowledged the fact that Iskata was his cousin and that all of his cousin's children were related to him, the hybrid did not consider himself really a member of that family. He was not a Sadira. He belonged on the other side of the tree with his dead mother and her brother. And he was alone there.
The coyotewolf could have contested the girl's claim that he was not the worse of all the others she had known, but he could see how and why she'd come to that conclusion based on what she knew and he wasn't ready to explain the details of exactly why he would have to disagree with her. No one really knew all the details. Maybe not even those that had been directly involved (did he know that Phasma was dead already?). Maybe no one ever would.
Laruku found himself giving Cercelee the same small, weak half-smile that he'd given his cousin.
She does care too much. Always has. Maybe it's not such a bad thing.It gives her a reason to be alive, doesn't it?
Maybe we should care.But it was just so goddamn hard to anymore. He had cared before. He had cared a lot too. He had cared so much that it had almost killed him three, four, five times over. And now, he was just too sore and too tired to anymore. Caring was hard. Living was hard. He didn't know how he still did it.
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