free to waste away alone

[Urma]

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OOC: This is tremendously late, and I'm really sorry. I have had a heck of a life x.x ::Word Count::500+       The pale she-wolf watched with tired eyes the male before her, trying to assess whether or not she was having an honest conversation. She let the thought roll through her weary mind for a while, before tossing it aside as fruitless. It was quite clear that their contradictory feelings about Dierdre and, consequently, Pilot, would yield no common ground for conversation. She could not claim to know anything about his former life, nor could she fathom what feelings being adopted would entail. On the other hand, neither could the black wolf know of her own past experiences, nor how those influenced the way she now reacted to abandonment. In a sense, their dialogue held nothing that could convince either of them to waver, and there was nothing that could be felt for the other so as to consider the option of compromise. Why should this wolf in particular care about the way she felt in regards to Pilot’s absence-- simply because they were pack mates? Surely that made no difference to him, especially since she hadn’t returned for a significant amount of time or even been overly social at that.       The alabaster Crimson Dreamer let the lingering aftertaste of an imminent disagreement and potential argument die down into the silence that had settled and it was only a few moments before she decided it was safe to break it that he spoke first. Her ears pricked instinctively with curiosity, and she let the words settle for a moment with her before allotting herself the necessary time to answer. She needed this time so as to be able to brush over the apparent rudeness she was left with after him saying in what seemed far too casual, even for a stranger, about Pilot’s return. The pearl femme wasn’t as naive as to think that anyone and everyone could, or would, care about her worries and her fears. She didn’t expect compassion; she was simply content with finding it in her friends. But no stranger until now had acted as if her small tragedy were a personal offence. Who was she offending, exactly? Surely not the obsidian wolf, or his memory of Dierdre, or at least she hoped so, since that hadn’t been her intention in the least. The blanched female finally decided against answering his first statement, and merely listened to his question, her attention no longer peaked and his company no longer necessarily irreplaceable.       “My friends have been more than nice with me, thank you. I don’t feel as if I am not given as much as everyone else in the pack, or treated differently in any way. I have all I need, and if I don’t, it’s always somewhere that I can procure it for myself with minimum effort.” She stopped herself from mentioning anything about Pilot’s absence, knowing that this subject did not interest the wolf, despite having been, at least at some remote point in time, the white male’s adopted son. She nodded her head a bit in response to his other inquiry. “Yes, thank you. I was happy to find my former den in the exact place and condition I left it in.” These questions irritated her slightly. So who was he, the groundskeeper or something? She felt that if her emotional turmoil proved of little worth to him, her welfare should be no different. She really hadn’t expected much. She hadn’t even wanted to talk about Pilot. She would have simply liked to know that the empathy Jazper had initially offered was warm-hearted.

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