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it's all good :]
cradle me in your crooked heart
So what had happened to all those promises? The naive yellow-eyed wolf had believed, he had held faith in that which he loved, he had thrown himself into the fire. Blind and deaf and dumb, he had believed. On that crisp autumn day when the sun had smiled on the earth, and the leaves blew in lifeless trails on the ground around his feet, on that beautiful afternoon as the Earth still turned and the Mother Moon waited her turn to reign over the helpless planet's creatures, Tsunami had left something behind. But he had still believed, because true love was forever. He believed, because he was smart but not wise, cynical but not jaded. He believed because he had to, so thoroughly that without it he would have become nothing without it.
He remembered meeting Laruku later on. The hybrid had smiled a toothy grin that simply shone with malice. And it would have belied his once-beautiful red eyes if they had not altogether become someone else's. There had been someone else pulling the puppet strings that day and Tsunami had known it -- he was crazy, and the insane always knew these things. That smile, those eyes, they had threatened to eat his children and Tsunami had promised that if that happened, he would die. What had happened to the forevers? What had happened to all those times he'd said he'd never leave? All those times when everything clicked in his head, when everything made sense, when the words flowed from his tongue like he read directly from a poetry book? Love songs and words of courtship. I'll change the world, just for you.
He didn't believe anymore.
On the outside, Tsunami looked calm. He was in the eye of the storm, the dead center, safe from Mother Nature's wrath. He wanted to change the world for the beautiful woman kneeling before him. He'd always been the romantic type and that had not changed in the least. Perhaps it really wasn't that he didn't believe anymore. Because ultimately, nothing had changed. Maybe he just didn't believe in the past. Things that had gone by. They were long dead, the mismatched pair. Long dead, and now so was his son. Eaten. That was what had happened to the promises: most had been thrown by the wayside. That one had been kept.
He smiled at Phasma. He wanted to stay and hold her, tell her that everything would be fine, remind her that she was loved and chase that despair from her eyes, but he knew what he needed to do. When he came back, there would be time for that. I'll come back, he told her in a soft whisper. I promise. He hugged her then, holding her tightly for a brief second. Then he stood and left. The determination in his eye, the detachment, maybe gave away his intentions. She knew him like few others did. But he would return to her: that he did believe.
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