as wine is to friends
#5
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Word Count :: 557 .


He nodded as she spoke. So she was new also. At least he had found someone who might be just as confused and unsure as he was. He looked closely at her, wondering why she spoke with so few words. He knew better than to ask, but he could not help but be curious. It makes her unique, like me, he thought. She wasn't just a pretty face, clearly. He smiled softly, looking at the girl. She was big for a dog, but still remarkably feminine. Strong, but graceful in appearance.


Octavian nodded at the woman, and backed onto Loviere's lap once more. He curled up, eyes peeking out from over his ringed tail curiously, watching the two interact. He quite liked this Bambi. It wasn't often that he and Loviere met someone with such noticeable quirks. She was a bit like Loviere in that respect.


Loviere blinked in shock as he felt her warm hand upon his. Immediately he ceased moving it up and down his leg. No one had ever really acknowledged him like that before. Often, people simply ignored the leg out of pity. It did not seem to be pity that Bambi felt for him though, he thought, but rather understanding of some type. The simple gesture sent a chill down his spine and he felt at a loss for words.


He couldn't help but feel sudden sympathy for the woman when she showed him her mark. It had clearly been inflicted purposefully. What she said next shocked him even more. He imagined the horror she might have felt. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be under the complete control of another. A pang of rage toward whoever had done this to Bambi struck his heart, but he quieted his emotions to simply answer her question. "No, I was not a slave. I was born with it, I think. My parents always thought it was... a curse."


He looked at the ground quickly. He rarely spoke of his parents' reaction to his deformity. It was part of the reason he had left them - their constant complaints of the bad luck his "curse" supposedly brought to them. But what this girl had gone through was much worse, he thought with a twinge of guilt. He had never gone through anything quite so traumatic.


"I'm sorry you were a slave. I am glad that you are free now." He knew not what else to say. Loviere did not have words for the feelings of anger and sadness her question had brought him. He had always believed that freedom was the one necessary right of all living things - to take that away was barbaric.


Her next statement amused him slightly. It was a nice offer, especially from one he had just met. He noticed her look of embarrassment, but disregarded it. In his opinion, she had nothing to be embarrassed about. "I don't have a home right now. I work with wood, so I want to build my own. Oct and I have been staying in.... abandoned house for while. You are too nice, Bambi. Oct might like company.... I would too."


When he was excited, Loviere's speech defected slightly. Often he had to concentrate on what he said so as not to speak stupidly, but he felt comfortable with the woman.





table by the Mentors!

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