10-26-2013, 04:21 PM
She’d been staring at the space Jon had vanished, thinking things through while the memories were still fresh – wondering just how quickly she was apt to forget – when Bear spoke. The reverie snapped; she recalled she was not alone, and as her gaze turned to the wolfbrother it was accompanied by an apologetic grin. “Me too.” Her tone was cheerful, genuine, and any subtext unheeded. At least, she didn’t start to feel the creep of discomfort until the silence stretched under that discerning gold gaze. What she couldn’t distinguish was whether it was his towering presence and the sobriety of his stare that pressed down on her so, or the stir of memories he caused like intersecting ripples. Looking into his eyes reminded her of wolves, and remembering them made her skin itch like they watched across the frozen tundra. They had a right to watch. They had a right to be cautious.
Cautious? Unease swept clear her mirth. Her smile faded to contemplation, brows tilted with the worry of a scolded child. Had she done something wrong? Why did she feel such a sting of accountability? For a moment it looked like she might crumble - as if she were perhaps afraid, though nothing of her presence flickered, nor did any article of clothing shift. She was solid. The emotion confused her, as did how sudden wariness snuck into her amiability now that Jon was gone. Bear was a friend, simple and uncomplicated. She was still battling those internal conflicts when he spoke again. Don’t hurt my friend. It was probably only the innate protectiveness of a wolfbrother, but it felt like a bullet. Worse, he left her with the wound of those words ringing in her head. They haunted her ‘til she woke.
She wouldn’t. Would she?
Cautious? Unease swept clear her mirth. Her smile faded to contemplation, brows tilted with the worry of a scolded child. Had she done something wrong? Why did she feel such a sting of accountability? For a moment it looked like she might crumble - as if she were perhaps afraid, though nothing of her presence flickered, nor did any article of clothing shift. She was solid. The emotion confused her, as did how sudden wariness snuck into her amiability now that Jon was gone. Bear was a friend, simple and uncomplicated. She was still battling those internal conflicts when he spoke again. Don’t hurt my friend. It was probably only the innate protectiveness of a wolfbrother, but it felt like a bullet. Worse, he left her with the wound of those words ringing in her head. They haunted her ‘til she woke.
She wouldn’t. Would she?