Wapun Meadow through it all

Even when she screamed, he didn’t dare move. He couldn’t. Cemented to the very spot he stopped in, he stood against her shouts, not moving even when she took a step towards him. A posture that would typically make his blood boil only made him hang his head, ears back and gaze averted. He was not the guilty one here, he would never hurt Indra, and yet—and yet he was the one blamed, the one to receive her anger. And he knew he deserved it. He knew this was just, even if he wasn’t the killer. And for that reason, he couldn’t physically defend himself. He left himself open to whatever she saw fit, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to stand against her, no matter the circumstances.

Another scream, and then a lunge. He drew in a breath and closed his eyes, waiting for impact, for the piercing sting of teeth driven deep into his flesh—but all he felt was a weight against his own body, warm breath against his skin. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open and stole a glance at her, relaxing against the contact. And when she whispered into his fur, proclaiming her hatred, his body slumped forward and he uttered a quiet, “I know.” It hurt him to hear her say it, even though he expected it. But he deserved it, he knew he did. There was not a single moment to pass between them that he didn’t cause her grief, not a single moment that would even out the scales after all he put her and her sister through.

Knowing all the pain he caused wasn’t enough to silence him, though. Not when he could still hear Indra’s voice in the back of his head, could still hear her telling him to make things right. That wasn’t something he knew how to do, not something he could figure out. But he had words in his head, in his heart, that screamed to be let out, and he… well, he was weak. “I love you,” he said, his own voice hardly anything more than a whisper. “You can hate me forever. You can blame me for this if it helps you heal. But I… I’m going to keep feeling this way.” If hating him was what would fix things, then so be it. Whatever she needed to get through this, whatever made her feel better—he would swallow his own feelings, for her.