tears of the wolf (original version)

Tears of the Wolf: Chapter 6:
Truth – Sen – Side Story – Daily, Peaceful Living

(Toura)

          Blood… roses… Those eyes, so dark and
cold. Full of cruel malice… odd, I never believed in evil until I met
him. Pain… and blood, so much blood… claws.

(Okami)

          It was always hard for me to make friends, even as a child.
In fact, I only had two friends before my life was diverted onto the path of
revenge. I was never able to trust anyone, especially after my family was
murdered. The few years after that, I looked around me in paranoia. I thoughtclass=GramE>, just about anyone could be that wolf. Later on, I learned
my trade well, I learned the signs, learned how to kill. Then, I met class=SpellE>Toura. I never really thought about how a werewolf felt
about its state. But living with Toura, I realized
that he wasn’t just a monster, but a living being, constantly tortured by his
illness. It wasn’t fair, he had never asked to be that
way. I wonder how it is that I could get to be so close to him so quickly. I
trusted him, when I knew very little about him. Was it because he wore his very
heart on his sleeve? Because of my, though I was hesitant to admit it, growing
attraction to him, or even because I was quite a bit of myself in his eyes, his
beautiful, soulful, violet eyes…   

          Toura is a victim. What of, I’m
not so sure. But it is in his very walk. Getting him to talk about himself is
nearly impossible, but still, that pain in his eyes is there.

          Love, I guess everyone at my age thinks of it at one point
or another. But, up until I met my own resident werewolf, and even for a bit
after that, I had never even giver it a bit of thought, but as the weeks went
past, I started to realize something… Toura was
beautiful. I don’t mean that because he is tall and lithe, his hair is silky,
or that skin was perfectly smooth. No, though all those things did make him
easy to watch. It was something different that spoke to the thing inside me. class=GramE>That thing that I had buried long ago. Trust, affection, all
the things humans long for. All the things I had given up in pursuit of what I had
believed was right. But now, little by little, I’m not
so sure. Was I really so ready to throw away my happiness? Did I have the right
to throw away Toura’s? Did I dare? class=SpellE>Toura deserved someone who could soothe away his pain. class=GramE>And me… I wanted him, not just sexually. At first, I mistook
my feelings for friendship, camaraderie. And maybe that was what it was at
first. But, I started to long for his presence more and more. Whenever he said
that he had to leave, I was filled with a tremendous fear. I always came up
with some excuse to make him stay. Toura was the
first and only attachment I had had in the better of a decade. I saw myself in
his eyes. The guilt, the need. I wanted to shelter
him. I wanted to protect him from the agony he felt every day. I wanted
something I could not describe or understand. Somewhere along the way, the one
thing that I had used as an excuse not to get involved,
became totally inconsequential. And then, living with him, watching him it
melted away altogether until I had forgotten it.

          Toura was a werewolf.

          Three long weeks had past since Toura
started living with me in my lonely cabin, far from the small town. And since
that night, I realized that I had never again seen Toura
in his wolf body. That, for me, he had taken on the pain of subduing it. ON
some nights, he would lock himself up in our room, I
could hear him in there, if I was close enough to the door, curled up in the
bed, silently crying in frustration and pain. The pain that
only comes when something is building up and up with nowhere to go.

          At night, he has nightmares. Toura
is not a screamer. He whimpers. That cabin only has one bedroom, with
fortunately two beds, so listening to those sounds… it is impossible to block
them out. If I were anyone else, I would be crying. I can always tell when the
nightmares start. His entire body tenses and he squirms a little, shifting
around restlessly. Then, the sounds start.

          I try to comfort him. I can’t help it. He looks like a
helpless little kitten bunched up like that. I run my hand through his hair and
rub my knuckles against his cheek. It’s such a small thing, but, if the
nightmare isn’t too bad, it settles him right down. That’s another thing: class=SpellE>Toura purrs. I was startled at first when I figured that
out, but its actually pretty sweet. If you touch his
hair just the right way, he practically melts.

          It’s ironic: “Toura” means
panther and “Okami” means wolf. That
made Toura laugh when he realized it.

          “A match made in heaven,” he had said. I guess we are. class=GramE>A hunter and a wolf.

End Chapter 6 side story

I just realized that no one’s
reading this fic, which means I can write anything I
want. *evil laughter* Then I realized that I already do that… *sigh* style='mso-spacerun:yes'>