The wound is healing well noted by the intense itching beneath the layers of gauze. I forget that it is there much of the time, but the Mistress watches me like a herlit, scolding me if my hand even twitches in the direction of my shoulder. There is a sore spot on my scalp too, not from the tangle with the beast but from having gotten her handi-work wet. That was what I was supposed to remember about the stream. She made a trench between the fire and the healer's wagon with my bottom, dragging me there to check how much damage I'd done.
Today the bandaging will come off. I've kept up with my chores despite it all. Some I could not have done without Oquai and Raven's help. Some I learned to do with the use of one hand and still not disturb the gashes on my back. I'm too busy to think of that afternoon much or the after affects. But today it teases the back of my memory. Parts of Edmund Larl have been distributed among the tribe. A taloned claw hangs from the throat of one of the new Mistresses. It was not until I saw it there that the ice water feel trickled up my spine. I should be pleased that he is no longer a danger to the tribe but it leaves a deep sadness as well as some wariness behind that I cannot explain.
The connection that I have with the wild animals allows me to understand them, how they think, how they follow natural instincts of survival. Often as fleeting thoughts though still understood. Their passings are simply a part of life as it is for humankind. Edmund and his mate were not merely wild animals. The spirit that lived within them held a different predatory response. It was cold and calculating. It thrilled at a kill. As if it could not wait to savor the richness of that taste, it longed for it. I wonder if that spirit still clings to the talisman or any of the other bits and pieces left of the beast. Was this Edmund's retribution, to slip back in when no one was looking, to touch everything, to leave his mark for being pushed from the Tuchuk treehouse? He had touched me and left his mark, I must share part of that spirit too now.
I cannot help glancing to the high grass now and then watching for the hollowed indention of movement. When the wind blows over the tops of the stalks setting them to motion I feel a shiver. I reach up to touch my shoulder to shake it off then stand taller knowing I know that I am stronger now because of it ...
even if more superstitious in my beliefs. I wanted his eyes.
Today the bandaging will come off. I've kept up with my chores despite it all. Some I could not have done without Oquai and Raven's help. Some I learned to do with the use of one hand and still not disturb the gashes on my back. I'm too busy to think of that afternoon much or the after affects. But today it teases the back of my memory. Parts of Edmund Larl have been distributed among the tribe. A taloned claw hangs from the throat of one of the new Mistresses. It was not until I saw it there that the ice water feel trickled up my spine. I should be pleased that he is no longer a danger to the tribe but it leaves a deep sadness as well as some wariness behind that I cannot explain.
The connection that I have with the wild animals allows me to understand them, how they think, how they follow natural instincts of survival. Often as fleeting thoughts though still understood. Their passings are simply a part of life as it is for humankind. Edmund and his mate were not merely wild animals. The spirit that lived within them held a different predatory response. It was cold and calculating. It thrilled at a kill. As if it could not wait to savor the richness of that taste, it longed for it. I wonder if that spirit still clings to the talisman or any of the other bits and pieces left of the beast. Was this Edmund's retribution, to slip back in when no one was looking, to touch everything, to leave his mark for being pushed from the Tuchuk treehouse? He had touched me and left his mark, I must share part of that spirit too now.
I cannot help glancing to the high grass now and then watching for the hollowed indention of movement. When the wind blows over the tops of the stalks setting them to motion I feel a shiver. I reach up to touch my shoulder to shake it off then stand taller knowing I know that I am stronger now because of it ...
even if more superstitious in my beliefs. I wanted his eyes.
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