Warmth

[Unahzaal]

My breath had become steam rising towards the sky. I stood in front of the large maple and pine forest which during late fall had been enriched with beautiful colours. Even in this desperate moment I so reluctantly had opposed, I could see the vast beauty expanding in yellow, green, orange, red and silver crowns above the mountainous grounds. So I stood in the valley. As sure as my body was calm breathing over my knees, my mind was but stiff. I could not think, so I decided it was not time to think, or trying to think, until the moment at which my mind would be enabled to do so. Meanwhile I would just have to stand there, hands on my kneecaps, breathing in some sort of calm exhaustion.

The decision I had made may not have been the smartest of options. But a common mind does common work, doesn't it? Yes, my mind wasn't noble or privileged but at least I had the decency and virtue of courage. The reason of me breathing being the lack of my other supposed virtue, namely patience. Damn patience. It is not that I feel less happy for striking that cursed warlord, who had it coming, it's just that the consequences the event had triggered were not expected by me to be so haunting. For three days I had been running from the king's soldiers. And I felt the ending draw closer. As well as the soldiers whom I had spotted few moments ago. Killing the warlord had meant instant death penalty, possibly by the worst methods the simpletons could imagine, not that I hadn't expected such a penalty. Still better than having to live dishonoured and oppressed by that gutless warlord. I now lived honoured by citizens, depressed by myself and hunted by a king. Much better. So this is the price of valour, I thought.

As I discovered my ability to think again my feet were instinctively starting towards the woods, away from the valley which I had breathed upon. However, they started lazily, the stupid, tired and slow feet.

Just as I entered the woods, my courage fell deep down the chain of loneliness once more. Because ahead of my stupid feet stood an encounter, namely a huge, dire, unfriendly-looking lone wolf. She growled two times and suddenly stopped to stare at me. Depressed as I was, knowing I would never be able to find refuge throughout Skyrim, I did the most amazingly stupid thing done in the history of Nirn. I agitated her. Because of a death-wish. But the wolf only stared at me. And I stared at her, finding only compassion in her sorrowful eyes. Compassion and the warm wish of love. The bastard who has said it to be wrong falling in love with animals, send him to Alduin, because when that wolf laid herself down, whimpering, I immediately found love for her too.

 

Two lone wolfs had become infused with gratitude in a state of clarity that could only be described as the landscape in which they were situated. The warmth in their souls rose to the same height and colour as crowns of late fall trees. What the man had found in the wolf was a loyal passion. He named her Faad (Dragon language).

 

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Please do me the honour of posting a reply of what you think of this short-story. Should I write more of these? Have I inspired or enthused any of you?

Also, I am sure you too would feel it necessary only posting creative answers; whether it be criticism or encouragement is independent.

 

With warmth I thank you,

~~ Unahzaal (Eternity) ~~

[Maharg67]

Liked it very much! Needs some editing; wolves, not wolfs, and might be better if broken into smaller paragraphs. :thumbsup:

 

Kudos for for the courage to post in Druid's Garden!