P a n g a e a
broken your servant I kneel
it seems what's left of my human side
is slowly changing in me
Pangaea would be the first to admit that her life hadn't been easy. She knew it with every scar that crossed her skin, every painful memory. Every instinct told her to not get attached, to not get too close to others. To keep a distance, to keep a level of protection. But, there was a quiet level of . . . not yet comfortable, but of content in this stallion's company. Especially without her attention half being on the clear disapproval of his companion, his . . . Bonded. Could she blame the elk, though? She was just a predator in his eyes, in both of their eyes. A creature to be treated with apprehension, with the knowledge that she could turn and bite the hand that feeds her. She didn't try to dissuade them, she wouldn't have the words to explain she wasn't just all 'chomp, chomp, eat, eat.' She glances at him from the corner of her eye, as he spoke of how he met his bonded, noting the smile that tugged at his lip in response to her words. The slight approval settled some of her nerves she wasn't aware she had.
Her ears flicked, catching his rumbled words with an unintentional eagerness. Not so much for the knowledge he was parting with, although she considered it vastly valuable, but for the very nature of his tones. Rumbled, and husky, like the dull heat of a fire on a cold day. There was something about his baritone that could lead her to listen any time he chose to speak. Something hypnotic in his voice, "I wonder if there is one for me." Someone who would never leave her side, who would be a constant companion. She was losing hope in finding Duellum, the very idea the raptor had survived this long while separated from her felt unlikely. Extremely unlikely. And that was even if that rare moment of magic in her homeworld that had saved Duellum's life as their former pack lay dead around them, the little raptor struggling for breath.
Perhaps it was a sixth sense that had her slowly having to acknowledge, Duellum wouldn't be waiting for her in these parts. But, maybe that just meant there was another being around here for her. The unintentional skin contact had startled her, if only to have not realized just how close she had gotten to his side, her apology almost bashful. He'd shaken his head in response, and it was like another balm to her nerves, his casual acceptance of the contact. Maybe he didn't find her as scary and predatory as she'd been fooling herself into believing. She did finally begin to speak, her words soft as she spoke of Jurassic, barely even touching on the struggles the two had faced from the moment they were on their own. Her gaze averted, trying to obscure the vision. The press of his body against hers was not expected, and she turned her eyes back towards him, his heat, the soothing feel of his pelt against her hide and fur. She forced her breath to even, blinking back the tears at just that gentle touch, the support almost being her undoing. She didn't have the words to express her gratitude in that moment, and if for just a brief moment her forehead pressed gently against his neck, accepting the comfort, and using his heat to ground her.
The tears dried, that well refusing to be tapped, and after just a few quick breaths she pulled herself from his body heat, so they could continue their walk, "I don't . . . talk about home often. Don't get the chance to really." She explained with a quiet shake of her head, before her ears perked slightly when he spoke of his grandmother raising him. The gentle smile on his face told her all she needed to know, his grandmother met the world to him. She could understand growing up without parents. Her own had abandoned her fairly early on, their visits infrequent, with longer gaps until they stopped showing up. Had she been that figure for her brother? The one that had taught him, had helped him. Barely a few hours older through the luck of hatching, should she have even had to?
She liked the way he described the woman who raised him. A force of nature. When his gaze turned back towards her, she met his gaze without hesitation, her expression surprised at the idea of the plants actually have used to heal the sick and wounded. "That is why you've gathered the plants? They actually have such uses?" She asked in bewilderment, "How does that work? You don't have to eat it do you? Because I tried eating grass, and it's disgusting. Has no flavor what-so-ever!" The words came out before she could stop them and for that brief moment a glimmer of her real personality, what a happy and healthy Pangaea was like. She fell quiet, her gaze dancing away as if waiting for the scoff of a 'predator' eating grass. As an omnivore, she'd tried it, tried to see what grazing was like. But . . . it'd been unimpressive. She preferred roots, vegetables, and fruit. And the occasional sweet roasted nut. She'd been surprised by how tasty those were.
He spoke more, about this grandmother being direct, plain, would know if she didn't like you, but she was also always willing to help. She glances at the vial around his neck, her gaze curious, as he spoke about being lost when she had passed away, that he'd kept a part of her. He looks back to her, and she blinks in surprise at his gentle tone, golden eyes softening slightly in response to his own gentle nature. "I might not have known you long, Gareth; but I would imagine she would be immensely proud of you." She agreed just as gently, her gaze looking ahead to the trail before them as well, "I'm sorry for your loss . . ." Her words were soft, peacefully gentle, "When my brother passed . . . it wasn't peaceful, for him or I. We knew the risk of the world we lived in. Who wouldn't. You eat, or you're eaten . . . Jurassic didn't even hesitate." She glances up to the sky, her wings shifting, as if the very memory was twitching them to life with the need to fly, to escape, "We were hungry, just kids, barely a year old if I remember - it was a long time ago; went where we shouldn't have too hungry to not try chase a snack into another predator's territory. A large creature, like a wingless dragon." She tosses her head, the bound mane flipping to the other side of her neck, exposing the violent and ugly scar that had nearly taken her life, even before the infection had set in, "Jurassic pushed me out of the way, took the bite meant for me." She admitted. "I still almost didn't survive. We lived in a humid jungle, and . . . humidity has a habit of breeding bad things, and I don't just mean the predators. I was hot and delirious for days, struggling to take care of the wound enough to survive it. Some days I don't know if I ever actually woke up."
She smiles faintly, a glimmer of pride in her eyes suddenly, "I'm not so easy to kill, but it was hard to suddenly be on my own." She glances back towards the stallion, "We're pack animals, my kind. I know some horses form, I believe the term I heard was herds? I don't know the general mechanics, but it sounds similar? Maybe a different name because we're not herbivores? But it made being alone hard. When I came across Rex, and the pack of raptors, I barely gave it a second thought when he offered me to join them." She laughed softly, the memory of the meeting a warm part, "Of course, when you're a small pack in a world of bigger threats, you're survival rate is low." She didn't need to continue, after all, she was alone again, wasn't she . . .
Or she had been. "It's what I've hated the most about being here. Being an outsider. It's like being alone again with nowhere to turn to." She shook her head, violently, curls slapping against her face from where they fell chaotically down her forehead and cheeks. "But . . . I know what others see when they see me. They see fangs and claws. They see a scary being with eyes that glow at night, slit pupils of a predator. A weird pebbled hide, as well as the traditional fur. They see a weird monster, a predator." Her ears lowered, her gaze momentarily dejected, "I'm not . . . by the way." She finally admits, refusing to look at him, "A predator I mean. I'm sure it seems that way, with how we met. But meat is more valuable when I'm ill like this. But normally, I only need to consume it maybe once every other weak. I'm an omnivore. I eat plants too." Her words are meek as she admits it, finally corrects his assumptions, his bonded's assumptions. For a moment, a hint of a smile is visible, "If only we'd have met under different circumstances - no?"
Her gaze turns away again, back to the darkening sky, and she frowns, instinctively stepping into his warmth again when a chilly breeze sweeps past them, carried from higher up the mountain. She shivers at the slight drop in temperature, her body pressed against his until the breeze dies down, "Let's pick up our pace maybe?" She asks, glancing up at him, still shivering slightly, "It's starting to get colder."
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: I'm liking this very slow development. She sets the starting ground work, he takes the steps to demonstrate positive behaviors. And it's adorable <3
when suddenly it changes
violently it changes
there is no turning back now
you've woken up the demon in me
