he stood upon the cuesta that had given morningside its name, though of course he didn't know that. the sun had just set and the sky was still fairly light, though the moon appeared occasionally from behind cloud cover and a couple of stars managed to shine through. twilight had settled upon the teekon wilds, and aditya was deep in contemplation.
life was good. it wasn't perfect—and at this juncture, he didn't expect it to be. but he had two thriving children, born of a woman he loved and respected. he was a member of a pack that seemed to stand for all the right values, and (more importantly, really) kept his pups fed. he had made amends, albeit shaky, with most of those he had wronged, and the others were so far away as to be in another galaxy. . .out of sight, out of mind.
he could chalk it up to fate, but really, aditya had done plenty of mending himself. through diligent work and soul-searching, he had managed to drag himself out of the abyss of self-loathing and made a fresh start. mistakes had been made, but what was past was passed; all that mattered, now, was the present moment, and securing a future for brook and stone.
it was a new age, an age of truth. no more would he give into his base impulses, his deep-seated desires. he had a calling beyond flesh and bone; his children were his heart and soul, and he would do anything to give them the world. no matter what it took. no matter what it cost him.
and so, his pelt lifted by a strong, warm summer breeze, he stood upon the cuesta that had given a name to a pack that had taken him in, even with no good reason to do so. there, his journey had begun, and though he had veered from the course several times since, he always managed to find it again. despite his failings, despite his flaws, he carried on.
aditya howled—not for an audience, not for alarm, not for duty. he sang to the sky and to the god who had guided his steps since birth, and in every life before. his tenor voice echoed over the cuesta, strong and joyful, filling the valley with the melody of a new era.
and deep within the stars, the earth, the moon and even the sun whilst it slept, hariji returned his call. the song of the lord, the bhagwan-geet, the deep and intangible breath of life that hummed within each and every being.
there upon the cuesta, for perhaps the first time, aditya was truly at peace.
life was good. it wasn't perfect—and at this juncture, he didn't expect it to be. but he had two thriving children, born of a woman he loved and respected. he was a member of a pack that seemed to stand for all the right values, and (more importantly, really) kept his pups fed. he had made amends, albeit shaky, with most of those he had wronged, and the others were so far away as to be in another galaxy. . .out of sight, out of mind.
he could chalk it up to fate, but really, aditya had done plenty of mending himself. through diligent work and soul-searching, he had managed to drag himself out of the abyss of self-loathing and made a fresh start. mistakes had been made, but what was past was passed; all that mattered, now, was the present moment, and securing a future for brook and stone.
it was a new age, an age of truth. no more would he give into his base impulses, his deep-seated desires. he had a calling beyond flesh and bone; his children were his heart and soul, and he would do anything to give them the world. no matter what it took. no matter what it cost him.
and so, his pelt lifted by a strong, warm summer breeze, he stood upon the cuesta that had given a name to a pack that had taken him in, even with no good reason to do so. there, his journey had begun, and though he had veered from the course several times since, he always managed to find it again. despite his failings, despite his flaws, he carried on.
aditya howled—not for an audience, not for alarm, not for duty. he sang to the sky and to the god who had guided his steps since birth, and in every life before. his tenor voice echoed over the cuesta, strong and joyful, filling the valley with the melody of a new era.
and deep within the stars, the earth, the moon and even the sun whilst it slept, hariji returned his call. the song of the lord, the bhagwan-geet, the deep and intangible breath of life that hummed within each and every being.
there upon the cuesta, for perhaps the first time, aditya was truly at peace.
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