Wapun Meadow i didn't drown - i couldn't seem to die

"pitaji. . .kya tum use dekhte ho jab tum mujhe dekhte ho?"

he laid among the flowers, taking comfort in their scent. it was an unusually cool late spring morning, and the sun hid behind the clouds. the breeze picked up his fur, tossing petals into his pelt, tangling the longer ends (he had yet to fully shed his winter coat).

it was peaceful here, a gentle symphony of birds and bees, and yet all he could hear was his father's silence.

"father. . .do you see him when you look at me?"

rajendra's silence had told him everything he needed to know. and so surya had not spoken another word after that, and the dark man soon had passed, plagued with fever and chills. he'd sat to the side, staring ahead, only rousing when his sister had come and pressed her muzzle into his shoulder.

"vah chala gaya hai." he is gone.

surya pressed his face into his outstretched forepaws, feeling grief overwhelm him once more. a small sound escaped his mouth, slipping past his tightened throat. he wanted to mourn rajendra properly, yet all he'd ever know was the sound of silence.

"pitaji. . .kya tum use dekhte ho jab tum mujhe dekhte ho?"

he would never escape the man that had shattered truth, that had defiled his family. he would never escape his pelt of browns and grays, such an aberration against his parents' night-dark fur.

aditya must pay. his father would not be avenged until surya took matters into his own paws.

for now, he wept.