of childhood and paper cranes

Shandom Qi'Vaex · 01-11-2012, 08:51 PM

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HAH. Just cracked a thousand. Smile

Nuki, love, for you! / +1,001

To have a childhood must be a wonderful thing, Shandom thought.

He never had much of one. Growing up, some of his first memories were of blood and terror, of a vivid nightmare brought to the harsh colors of life. Red, even in the strange in-between of dreams, was never brighter than in those terrifying moments. Sometimes, Shandom wondered if his parents' abduction was the source of what he was, the reasoning behind the crimes that shaped him. He knew that was a cop out, though. Nothing had made him draw blood that day except the green monster of jealousy.

Like Linquilea, he had flaws. While her stone heart was wrapped in hatred and she had become the embodiment for things that were terrifyingly awful in this world, Shandom's own soul was twisted through with currents of envy. Envy of those who were loved more than he, envy of the wolves who could find love; but especially envy of those who still interacted with his Lea-Belle. She would never belong to anyone else, in his mind. Even though years of hatred and decay transformed her into something beyond his recognition, underneath everything there was still a laughing little girl, set in her convictions and confident in who she would become. Shandom had loved her for that, when he was a child without a childhood, and for so many other reasons as well. The sparkle of her smile and the impish look that entered her eye when she thought of something truly mischievous: he could remember every individual moment, and held on to them like precious jewels. To have that again, if only for a moment, would be an incredible thing. As the years passed, Shandom wondered why he was not lucky enough to have a life like that.

His Alphess, the transcendent and ethereal Titania, brought him sadness if for the reason that her childhood was squandered on the responsibilities of adults. She was prepared for it, he knew, and it was her birthright and destiny. But she had not yet seen the full turn of the seasons; he would not be surprised if this were her first full winter that she could remember. An Alphess could not frolic in the snow and gaze in wonder at the strangeness of ice; she had duties to her pack that could not be ignored in favor of the wonders of youth. Sometimes he wondered if she noticed it, or accepted how strange her life truly was. Her energy, though, was serene, and Shandom would not mistake his place to tell her otherwise. The man respected her, and it was for that reason that he padded along in freshly fallen snow, seeking out the girl-woman-leader.

She had, at the informal pack meeting several days ago, asked him to meet with her to discuss his story. Shandom knew what she wanted, even if she were discrete and polite in front of the rest of the pack. The male had not been particularly stealthy about the hideousness of his crimes, though he did not mention them. Like any Alphess, she would want to know the details, and the potential danger to her pack. He had a sense of foreboding in his heart, as if he already knew the outcome; that was, of course, absurd. Shandom hoped, prayed even, that the name of the pack - this New Dawn where he now lived - would give him exactly what it promised. A new horizon, a new day on which to start his story. Sometimes, he wondered whether or not it would be prudent to change his name and completely begin again. But that went against his very nature. The male was rooted in history, a strange barrier between what happened, what was happening, and what would happen. In the strange canvas of his mind, Shandom transcended it all.

It was a relatively simple process, finding the Alphess. Since coming to New Dawn and fully entrenching himself back into his Lupus form, the powerful sense of smell that came so naturally to him returned with great strength, though he had not realized he'd lost it to begin with. Then again, perhaps it was all a mental game, something his alienated conscious had created in order to further convince him that a life on two legs was no life at all. He wandered through the pack lands, away from the den, following the familiar perfume. There was something comforting about it, something that reminded him of his own childhood. He wondered what it was.

She was at a small stream, and he yipped softly to alert her to his presence. Immediately, his body curled into itself; tail tucked, ears flattened against his head, eyes away from her regal facade. In a situation such as this, it would be proper for him to show as much submission as possible. If there was one thing he did not want, it was to present himself as any sort of threat. The scarred man might not be entirely a submissive wolf by nature - too many regal ancestors would at least attempt to negate that particular character trait - but he knew how to behave like one, and would not disrespect his superiors. In this case, Titania was his superior, regardless of her age. She would always be his superior, as long as she were the Alphess, and that was the way it should be. My Alphess, my lady, Shandom murmured as he approached her, nearly crawling on the ground. I have been looking for you. I... You have a right to know my sins. His words were soft, and they carried years of burdened shame.

Glancing at her for a moment, Shandom quickly realized of who she reminded him. He had to suppress a chuckle when he recognized the utter absurdity of the thought.

This young girl, this Alphess who was not yet a woman, reminded him so very, very much of what he imagined his biological mother to have been like.

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