But aw, that stinks, and yeah I know. Even I feel uncertain as to how things will progress from here. I'll archive this after a few days.
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If the little red wolf had been more experienced, she might have been more aware of the games she was playing with the big, black wolf. But unfortunately, she felt blameless. Part of her realized that she was being rather influential--manipulative was a term she was not yet ready to admit--but part of her felt as if she were being logical and part of her felt so right. She was all parts, pieces if you will. Like a broken mirror that had never had a chance to pull itself together again. Forever fragmented. If the little red wolf had been more patient, she might have entertained his tirade. Or even bothered to listen. But instead, it was lost in the heat of her own emotions. His anger both hurt her and gave her more energy to fight and to kick and to scream. However, it was his care for her that infuritated her the most. Not because she did not want him to care for her--oh, she wanted it, and so very, very badly--but because it reminded her of how great the distance was between them. It was a chasm that could not be crossed without some divine intervention. If the little red wolf had been more brave, she would have embraced what she slowly began to realize sentence by sentence. He was falling in love with her. It was a strange thought, one she was unfamiliar with, and it scared her. Not knowing what to do, she could only maintain her vanity and pride. When he looked straight at her, she felt herself freeze, but her face also froze without changing into something softer, something more reflective of what she felt inside. So he left without further complaint. His offer for further assistance lingered with her and surrounded her, threatening to suffocate her. Who knew that love could feel so much like death? "Don't leave me," she whispered, but it was far too soft for anybody but herself to hear. His big, black form eventually receded into the shadows of the mountain, and she was left alone. She had everything she had asked for and more, but never had she felt more dissatisfied. The tears came easily once she had solitude, and they felt ran hot across her cheeks but became cool once they reached her chest and heart. |