Goodbye Graceful [OPEN]

[Rhodie;;]

Goodbye Graceful What is a past? Is it a medal to be worn? Should it speak of valor and courage? Infamy and wrath? Love, compassion, hurt, fear – what is a past? The past is a wound. It bleeds more with each passing day, leaving drops of crimson with every step. For Pierce that’s what a past was. An annoying scratch not deep enough to hurt but deep enough to remind him…remind him…remind him of – he didn’t know. It was a fully useless thing. It made him paranoid. Would someone ask? When he told them his story would they understand? Would they pity him? Tragedies always carried humor in Pierce’s eyes. If he was ever tasked with a recount of his story he’d die of laughter before he even reached the end. Whether it was how absurd his mother was or how absurd he was as a result. It was all just so funny. Funny in how pathetic it was. Was he laying on the lake edge feeling sorry for himself? A poor pup neglected by his mother. Left alone many a night to fend for himself. A poor pup with no one of his own to love. Alone in more ways than one? He barked a short laugh at the thought. Why dwell on it though? It was, after all, the past. She should be the last thing on his mind considering what loomed on the horizon. War. It sounded like a pesky thing, a destroyer of life and love. It was a necessary part of life though, wasn’t it? With peace comes chaos just like with the light comes the dark. It was inevitable. If not now, then it would have been later. What made it worse still was it would be a war of revenge. Pride was something wolves were not short of. It would be a matter of pride if it came down to it. This whole thing was just so…tacky but perhaps “unfortunate” would have been the more gracious word. Pierce had a theory about Midas’s death and knew one of the three was bound to be correct. Perhaps some outside force was interested in the demise of one or both of the packs, in which case a wolf from Lingua Veritatis would be the culprit. Or it truly was Animos Regum’s intent to spark war though, if this were the case, more hostility might have been shown. Besides, their Alpha didn’t seem one for war, he looked too much like a lover of peace. Adversely, it could’ve been someone from Pierce’s own pack. Think it unfair but Pierce had the most riding on the third theory. Call him suspicious but Midas’s position was coveted…and his daughter…she was an interesting one. Pierce just had to stop and wonder if thoughts like this were traitorous in themselves. He didn’t know what to think. With everything hanging in the balance like this, he wasn’t the only one dwelling on the uncertainty of it all. No one was scared they were just…prepared. No one was scared. They didn’t fear. Was he scared? Pierce emerged from his thoughts to the sound of his breath. They were steady and deep like he had gone into a state of meditation. He saw himself reflected in the water of this beautiful lake, his body strewn across its edge. Sandy disks peered back at him as he regarded himself. Was he scared? Was he scared to fight for a group of wolves who, if he was being honest, he didn’t take seriously? No, he wasn’t scared just more annoyed than anything else. The brute’s jaws parted in a long yawn. It was getting late, the sun beginning to go down. The lake’s water was still and golden in the light of the evening. Truly a sight to behold. He could stay here a little longer, at least until it grew dark.