people create stories create people

[Urma]

[html]

OOC: ::Word Count:: 500+       The tears threatened to tear her apart, deliberately, piece by piece, and she found in the reserves of willpower that still remained the force to push them back into the recesses of her mind, where worries and the daily turmoil took refuge. Her heart felt heavy with bitterness, and had it not been Gotham sitting next to her she would have probably shed all her defenses and allowed her share of unhappiness to take its toll on her. As it stood, however, the wolf beside her was still too young to know all the troubles of adulthood, and the impact her anguish would have upon him would be devastating. In due time, he would taste the true bittersweet aroma of maturity, and learn to live with it on his consciousness, a burden to be carried for the rest of his life. Urma clearly remembered the shock that had sent her into early adulthood, and did not wish any such thing to befall another young wolf. She composed herself with great care, and turned to face the pup just as he spoke his gentle, heartfelt words. His innocence was the only thing that made her muzzle take the shape of a true smile; the probity behind his intentions gave her a warm feeling deep inside, caressing her bruised soul.       "Thank you. You're very kind to offer such a thing to me. Maybe, someday, we'll set on that adventure, together." Her own words spoke of better days to come, of the hope that she had so far prohibited herself from enjoying. One day, she would meet Pilot again, and she would look back upon these moments and think of them as little more than a nightmare. She knew, and it was a deep-rooted certainty, that she would always love Pilot, no matter what; in the depths of the night she felt it more clearly than ever that nothing, not even what had happened in Inferni, could ever make waver her convictions about the white male's true self. That conviction warmed her soul, somewhat, renewing her stale hope. She looked at Gotham with different eyes-- a more optimistic gaze, perhaps? She felt she owed the small wolf beside her something for his warmhearted words.       She smiled once more at the pup, delving deep into her memories, thinking of what would take her companion's mind off the sadness that she had let loose upon the both of them. The night's air was getting chillier, speaking of early autumn and smelling of soon-to-come rains. She scooped in closer to Gotham, allowing her generous pelt to cover his side, her eyes radiating gratefulness and kindness. There was nothing about the Sadira-Marino pup that did not give her the smallest ounce of belief. Being here with him lifted her spirits considerably, and she wanted to do something for him to show her thankfulness. "But you know what gives me the most hope? That stories don't have to end, ever. There's nothing to stop you from keeping to try to make it work." She paused a bit, her tone soft, and continued, "I come from far away. I was born in lands covered by mountains and snow, with deep valleys and dark forests. And I grew up listening to the stories of the wind and the tales of the age-old trees. There's never been a day in which I haven't remembered the myths of my ancestors."

[/html]