King Elk Forest don't pretend

he might be injured, hungry, weak and mistrustful but asmoses — now rasalas as he called himself — is still prideful and still interested in the stars though they remain ever out of his reach. cold and distant gods that never interfere but are comforting in their presence all the same. his eyes widen as he looks at her with a new light, hedging and hesitating as his tail wags; a tiny bit. she knows about stars and he feels himself softening some under her nuzzle. as much as he wants to shy away from her touch like a spooked deer he can’t deny that he missed those mothering touches of comfort.

she is not his amma but she has so far stuck to her word: she hasn’t hurt him.

she offers him names, of her pack, of her pack’s healer, of her mate and states that he — phox, she calls him — knows all about stars. rasalas is tentative and hesitant but his heart no longer thrums like the rapid beating of a hummingbird’s wings in his chest; spurred by fear. though he is still fearful he allows it to lessen. if only by a bit. surely someone who offers him food and shelter and who has a mate who knows about stars can’t be all that bad.

of course, it is that same childish naivety that got him injured in the first place; but like the child he is, he still clings to it even now.