[ P ] Elastic Heart

Is ait an mac an saol -
Life is strange.

The first few weeks had gone so slowly. Days felt like weeks, and the weeks felt like months had passed as she cared for Tiberius’ son. The boy had a name, but she had never used it when addressing him, for that was for his father. Instead, she used her own native tongue when she referred to him as leanabh – child. Or, if he was being particularly difficult, she called him simply gille – boy

Every now and again, the pup would do something that reminded Blythe of her own errant sons, some mannerism that brought her back to a different time – the sound of a childish giggle, so much like Coal when he was still an infant, or the way his face scrunched up when he was frustrated, looking ever so much like Finch as a wee lad.

But never did she allow herself to see Tybalt as her own. Any moment that threatened the intentional distance she created, any stray feeling of affection and tenderness… No, she could not give in to any maternal feelings beyond merely keeping the boy alive. She sat in the entrance of the stone den she had claimed, observing Tybalt as he frolicked about, without a care in the world. Despite her distance, despite how cold she could be, the child had turned out sweet, the picture of innocence, even though his very existence was hardly pure. He was… Cute.

She was gazing now at the sky, wondering if the clouds gathering in the north carried rain. The boy’s tiny voice called out to Blythe: ”seall an seo!” – Look over here, he beckoned the white wolfess, whose amber sights turned from the sky to the pup. Her facade was neutral, hinting at nothing. ”Uill, lean air adhart.“ – well, go on.

With a big smile, the pup attempted to do something he was certain he was capable of, leaning forward on his forelegs in an attempt to push himself upward in a handstand. And he was successful – for about three seconds, he was standing vertically, using only his front paws. But he couldn’t stay like that, and with a childish yelp, he toppled over in a messy heap. His bottom lip trembled as he looked to Blythe, who made no move to comfort him. ”Is dòcha an ath thuras, nì thu nas fheàrr.” – maybe next time, you will do better. Tybalt only nodded sadly.


For a minute there
I lost myself, I lost myself


@Coal