To exist, for the female, was not the same as the constant living force that was the air or land. To exist, as she learned through relentless repetition, was to fulfill a purpose either directed or discovered. Else there was no reason to look upon oneself. Without fulfillment of that purpose, there was no existence only a waste of fur and flesh and bone. She, as she knew it, did not exist in such a profound way. And thus did not believe herself to 'matter'.
Her brows betrayed her calm, telling of her confusion however sincere and believed his expression. She mattered? Her tail flicked passively as the whole of her shuffled uncomfortably. "To matter means to hold an essential place," she whispered. "It means that without that presence, others would fall to a disadvantage. A leader to a pack. A hunter to its family. A careless life lost would not hold the same impact." Again she shuffled, but bore nothing of her discomfort other than a slight twitch of her tail. She sounded neither sorrowful nor pitying of her views on herself. She had heard it enough from the mouths of others, that it was almost natural to regard herself in such a manner. If there was a sentiment of herself that warranted worry or care, it was that she was a breeder, and upon her death, the world, a pack, would be at a loss of one. |