As We Wait
Aug. 2nd, 2007 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shosenI told Thrall’tukk once, that if I had my way, I would stay at home, be a tailor, and never fight again. He didn’t believe me, and I’m starting to believe he was right. I am certainly at home more now that I have been in recent days, but I find there are times when I just have to, move.
Pand is kind enough to check in on Leiral those short times I’m gone, and I’m terrified that she’ll wake up when I’m away. I believe she’d forgive me, she understands the need to go, but I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.
I just can’t seem to help it.
I take the hound with me when I go now, and she seems to enjoy being out. She’s traveled with me a few times here and there, when the days between seeing my friends were long, but I doubt it’s often enough for her. I know she’s supposed to be my protector, a give from a concerned sister, but I really just want the company.
I’m not certain when I stopped being used to being alone, but it happened. There was always someone, from the demons, to my friends, to my found family, not to mention all of their pets. The world seems so quiet now.
She’s Scarlet bred, and well-trained by Tabaqui, so the hound knows what she’s about. I’m not certain she quite knows what to make of me, though. Or what to make of the ghosts I come here to fight. She seems used to the more substantial members of the Scourge, and can’t seem to get a grip on these ethereal ones. She’ll learn though, and she’s determined to keep trying. I should find her an easier training ground.
Tabaqui made the offer to train me a hound right before I left them for a while. I think she was worried about me being off on my own, especially when I was so uncertain of the powers I relied on. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated the offer more. I’m certain of my power now, but uncertain of other things.
I remember a time in the Vale, Uzil insisting that he should take the blows, even in his leathers, because he had a shield. I’d joked that I had one, too, just not one made of metal. With the shield of my will and the shadows of my pain, I hardly felt the blows, and didn’t see why he should still have to take them.
The shadows are now gone, and the shield I forge doesn’t always last. I feel them now, and it makes me wonder.
Doctor Vines once asked me if I was strong, and I replied that I was. I believe I proved myself so in the remainder of that conversation, but the question has never left me. I still say I am, but what sort of strength is it?
The time, seems so long ago now, when I wore Tabaqui’s body, I had felt the need to move, to hunt, to fight. It was a very different sort of strength, that. I had never felt it before, and I haven’t since. The lack of it is preying upon my mind now.
I have worked in the Church, I have tended to the ill and injured. I know that people weaken in their beds. I am taking care of Leiral, doing what I can to slow that process, but I cannot prevent it outright. The longer she is asleep, the more I begin to wonder. What if when she wakes, she needs me to be the strong one for a time?
Crows told me that I was like a willow tree: that I bent but did not break. He hadn’t seen me stagger from the portal to the cave entrance trying to support a drunk Hakkajin. We made it, but I’m inclined to say just barely, and I don’t think that’s altogether because I was drunk as well. That is the other sort of strength, however. I’m not certain that I have enough of it.
Pand is kind enough to check in on Leiral those short times I’m gone, and I’m terrified that she’ll wake up when I’m away. I believe she’d forgive me, she understands the need to go, but I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.
I just can’t seem to help it.
I take the hound with me when I go now, and she seems to enjoy being out. She’s traveled with me a few times here and there, when the days between seeing my friends were long, but I doubt it’s often enough for her. I know she’s supposed to be my protector, a give from a concerned sister, but I really just want the company.
I’m not certain when I stopped being used to being alone, but it happened. There was always someone, from the demons, to my friends, to my found family, not to mention all of their pets. The world seems so quiet now.
She’s Scarlet bred, and well-trained by Tabaqui, so the hound knows what she’s about. I’m not certain she quite knows what to make of me, though. Or what to make of the ghosts I come here to fight. She seems used to the more substantial members of the Scourge, and can’t seem to get a grip on these ethereal ones. She’ll learn though, and she’s determined to keep trying. I should find her an easier training ground.
Tabaqui made the offer to train me a hound right before I left them for a while. I think she was worried about me being off on my own, especially when I was so uncertain of the powers I relied on. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated the offer more. I’m certain of my power now, but uncertain of other things.
I remember a time in the Vale, Uzil insisting that he should take the blows, even in his leathers, because he had a shield. I’d joked that I had one, too, just not one made of metal. With the shield of my will and the shadows of my pain, I hardly felt the blows, and didn’t see why he should still have to take them.
The shadows are now gone, and the shield I forge doesn’t always last. I feel them now, and it makes me wonder.
Doctor Vines once asked me if I was strong, and I replied that I was. I believe I proved myself so in the remainder of that conversation, but the question has never left me. I still say I am, but what sort of strength is it?
The time, seems so long ago now, when I wore Tabaqui’s body, I had felt the need to move, to hunt, to fight. It was a very different sort of strength, that. I had never felt it before, and I haven’t since. The lack of it is preying upon my mind now.
I have worked in the Church, I have tended to the ill and injured. I know that people weaken in their beds. I am taking care of Leiral, doing what I can to slow that process, but I cannot prevent it outright. The longer she is asleep, the more I begin to wonder. What if when she wakes, she needs me to be the strong one for a time?
Crows told me that I was like a willow tree: that I bent but did not break. He hadn’t seen me stagger from the portal to the cave entrance trying to support a drunk Hakkajin. We made it, but I’m inclined to say just barely, and I don’t think that’s altogether because I was drunk as well. That is the other sort of strength, however. I’m not certain that I have enough of it.