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Werewolves (RP12) The Day After the Storm

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"Thank you," Bianca responded, then turned to the next door. "Psst-Toby?" she asked, rasping her knuckles on the door. "Are you awake?"

Sabrina seemed mildly relieved that Bianca had moved on. She remained at the door a moment longer, listening as Bianca tried the next door or trying to find her own inner peace. Slowly she released the door knob. Her eyes fell to the still untouched food she had present to Saber. She regarded it a moment. Then she looked at Saber's bed. He seemed to be somewhat at ease. Let him rest.

Quietly she knelt down and collected the tray of food from the floor. She brought it back to the dresser before the window. And there she remained, gazing out at the autumn morn as it twirled behind soft white curtains.

Saber never opened his eyes as he continued to lay on the bed. Instead, he just listened to Sabrina’s movements.

Now with his adrenaline from previous actions dying down, he finally felt as tired and worn out as he looked. He knew if he stayed laying down much longer he would easily drift back to sleep. He didn’t want that. As much as his body clearly needed rest, there was something else that took priority.

Saber slowly opened his eyes and found Sabrina now staring out the window. He was slow to start speaking again. His words, although still covered in fatigue, were carefully placed, a hint of empathy managing through despite his weariness.

“ ...Sorry about my temper, it’s been so hard to control since becoming a werewolf.” He paused as his eyes studied Sabrina. “ ...You’ve been through a lot yourself, haven’t you?”

Ulric listened as, after Jackie explained as much as she comfortably could about her sister's situation, she warned him not to let others take advantage of him. The warning was the strangest of its kind, for taken in context it sounded as if she were warning him not to let her take advantage of him. Yet, the sincerity of her tone gave him no reason to fear and the compliment brought his eyes down into a bashful grin.

"That's okay, Jackie." He said. His tone suggested she need not worry, for the truth of the matter was rather ironic. He shrugged, giving a simple explanation. "The only reason I'm alive and the son of an alpha is because someone took advantage of me."

He followed her thoughts afterward as his eyes came steadily up to rest on the upper cabin windows. "Wonder what?" He was compelled to ask.

*****

Meanwhile, Kratos stood in the kitchen after Bianca had gone. Whether he was contemplating, or just taking in the silence, he didn't move for some time afterward. Then he lifted his hand to his chin and breathed a deep, slow breath. Beneath the smell of Bianca's soaps and perfumes, the smell of her bag, and the places her clothes had been, was the scent of paper and Jackie's hands. A thick, elegant Indian ink, complimenting a handwritten letter, adorned the trace scent of yet another hand which frequented the pen; a scent that was not unfamiliar to the Alpha. Each subtlety that touched his tongue unfolded into a picture in constant motion, leading him from one room into the next as he retraced the letter's path. Therein was the danger of shaking hands with a werewolf. Though Bianca did not know it, the past was dusted on her palms.

Toby had continued his work, keeping one ear to the wall. He really didn't have an opinion about the conversation taking place over there, but it was something to listen to while he worked.

After awhile, the voices of Sabrina and the new kid became almost imperceptible. They were speaking softer now... Or Sabrina had gone through with her threat and actually killed the poor kid....

No, Toby didn't believe she actually had, but she totally could: Without a last cry or sounds of a struggle, that was how Sabrina worked. She was an assassin, right? Known for popping folks off without a single spot of dirt or blood landing a stain on that white dress of hers.

Toby shuddered and tried to shake these thoughts from his brain when another sound reached his ears. There were footsteps coming toward his room, followed by a knock and a voice. Toby rose from his seat beside his work desk and went to the door, turning the knob and opening it a crack. Outside was a familiar face. He wasn't frightened of this face in particular, it was Bianca, and Bianca was sweet...

Too sweet. She has kissed him. He remembered that. Where did that put them though? He still didn't know. He hadn't thought about it. He should probably do that, but not right now. Right now she was standing there and there was no time to think.... He couldn't even think of what to say.

Hi.

"Hi?" Bianca responded with a giggle, stepping back once from the door. "Are you decent?" she asked, giving a quick glance up and down. She didn't give him a chance to respond before she spoke again,

"I need your help with something-I have to run errands in town, and I figured you'd be the best person to ask since you know it already. Would you come with me, pretty please?"

She held her hands behind her back and grinned widely, leaning forward just a bit.

It was a perfectly normal question to ask; he was giving every indication that he wasnt after all, staying in his room and hiding behind the door. Nevertheless the very implication made Toby's face flush bright pink in embarrassment.

Was he decent?! Of course he was decent! The very idea that he would answer the door to a young woman-- To anyone for that matter, while he was half naked! The horror! The absolute horror! He knew how to dress for the day, even if he had no intention of venturing out into it! Why, he didn't even transform in front of anyone for fear that a button might pop while in the process! Oh, the absolute horror!

Toby fumbled with his words, his cheeks hot and his stomach tight. After a moment, he clumsily adjusted his glasses and opened the door wider.

Yes, of course. I'd be happy to. he said quickly, stepping out into the hall.

 

Sabrina said nothing for a time, and continued to stare out the window as though Saber had not spoken. Finally, quietly, she said, "Hasn't everyone? When we speak of troubles... how can a man turn so against his neighbor, rather than empathize with his distress? Instinctually, we expect compassion from our own kind. That is simply who we are. Somehow our minds can project it even upon an enemy at times of greatest suffering. Show me just a drop of empathy for my pain, we say to him within our hearts in that moment, and I will think you kind to me. In desperation, our minds create a fleeting illusion, we make a rescuer out of our tormentor. He must care. Surely he must care. Would we not care for him, were we in his place and he in ours? Surely no human being could be so cruel."

"But he is cruel. His cruelty defies understanding. Does he even understand it? You cannot know. After his actions, you understand that he cannot be the same creature as you are... or can he be? When you find yourself the tormentor rather than the tormented, do you see yourself as such? Or do you see your hand as that of justice bearing down upon one who embodies the evil you are sworn to fight?"

She shivered, as though she had taken a sudden chill, and gingerly hugged her arms. "I don't expect you to understand," she said simply, still gazing outside.

Saber was quiet a moment. " I know I won't understand." He said gently, as silence was welcomed back for another moment.

" But I can see you've had to make some pretty harsh choices before, some that you might be regretting or questioning now. It doesn't matter how strong you feel, you need help carrying your burdens. I don't expect to be the shoulder that helps you, but you need to find someone. ... Isn't that why we seek empathy from our tormentors in the first place? People need people. They always have and always will."

Jackie glanced strangely to Ulric at his reply, but the energy of her expression had shifted.  Like a puppy with a new ball, what was said moments before was a distant memory to the "I wonder".  Her eyes glanced behind her, to the cabin she'd just come from, then to the other.  She did not explain further, though prompted; Ulric was little more than an afterthought.

Her feet shifted from the porch and she started walking to the boys' cabin.

"While in the lair of the beast, I wonder what little mice do to pass their time?" she replied, either to no one at all or maybe to Ulric.  Though if at all he had a moment of doubt, she turned and the vibrant shock of her eyes looked at him seriously, "I think they leave breadcrumbs... and if we're clever, maybe we'll find them".

Her stride became longer, almost a skip, and in another few moments the door of the cabin was thrown ajar by the bulk of her weight.

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