(no subject)
I keep waking up, sitting straight up in bed, and remembering that eye. My pack standing, staring at it, deer wearing the shape of wolves. In the dream, I have nothing to throw, and I can't lift the rocks that line the shore. And then, just before we die, I wake up in a cold sweat, boat rocking gently, and me afraid for a moment that I'm running solo again, just a weekly visit to my mom, and then no one else to talk to, sitting in the basement of the dusty offices, building and thinking and putting things together.
The woman in the green scrubs calls out a friendly greeting. She knows who I am, they all do. Like clockwork they used to say. And then when everything changed, when I changed, it got harder. How to explain it to these people, that want to form something they call a pack. Who turn into giant half-wolves 8 feet tall, except that I can do it, too. Ok, so not quite that tall for me.
I enter the room, door groaning just a bit. She's lying in bed, staring dreamily out her tiny window. I speak to her in a voice full of false cheer, the tone everyone uses with children, or dying people, or people that are just really stupid. She's none of that, but I don't know what else she is. Sam came with me last time. Just cause they didn't want me wandering alone after the crazy shit that was on the boat. Don't know what he thought. Don't much care. She's my mother. Even if she doesn't remember my name.
It's suddenly summer, and the waves in the harbor are peaceful. Sun sparkles off water that is somehow less menacing than it was only a few weeks ago. I'm lying on the deck, trying to lose some of this geek lack-of-tan, and I hear the howl. I let out a sigh, but know I have to go.
But when I get there, it's not what I expected. Not remedial Iron Master school, because I sat there and did nothing and the problem solved itself, kind of like a badly tied knot. But this isn't about learning to be an Iron Master, to feel beating heart of a piece of technology, and learn how to change it, or fix it, or end it. Rahu lead the way into battle. That doesn't sound like me. But in a sense, I guess I did. Ran after my two idiot pack mates who went running with the speed of Father Wolf all the way to the damn monster, and then got stuck. Following behind, I chased after them, at the speed of my own two feet. And behind me, a string of n00bs, who still don't know how this city works. I've spent time learning what it means to be a werewolf, what it means to be Uratha. I've spent time learning how to be an Iron Master. Maybe now it's time to learn to be a Rahu.
Last night I had a dream. Again, finally catching up to my pack. Seeing the spirit, and it's great, malevolent eye. But unlike the dreams before, the nightmares, like reality, no one is going to die. Not on this one at least. The phone flies, the monster blinks. My pack mates shake their heads, growl, and change form to fight the thing. Behind me, all the n00bs follow my lead, throwing rocks or whatever they can find.
I wake up calm and peaceful, rocked by movement of the ocean. I laze there for a while, listening to the calls of the gulls and noises of the other boats, the sounds of engines much more soothing than the birds. I think to myself... Maybe, just maybe, I can do this.
The woman in the green scrubs calls out a friendly greeting. She knows who I am, they all do. Like clockwork they used to say. And then when everything changed, when I changed, it got harder. How to explain it to these people, that want to form something they call a pack. Who turn into giant half-wolves 8 feet tall, except that I can do it, too. Ok, so not quite that tall for me.
I enter the room, door groaning just a bit. She's lying in bed, staring dreamily out her tiny window. I speak to her in a voice full of false cheer, the tone everyone uses with children, or dying people, or people that are just really stupid. She's none of that, but I don't know what else she is. Sam came with me last time. Just cause they didn't want me wandering alone after the crazy shit that was on the boat. Don't know what he thought. Don't much care. She's my mother. Even if she doesn't remember my name.
It's suddenly summer, and the waves in the harbor are peaceful. Sun sparkles off water that is somehow less menacing than it was only a few weeks ago. I'm lying on the deck, trying to lose some of this geek lack-of-tan, and I hear the howl. I let out a sigh, but know I have to go.
But when I get there, it's not what I expected. Not remedial Iron Master school, because I sat there and did nothing and the problem solved itself, kind of like a badly tied knot. But this isn't about learning to be an Iron Master, to feel beating heart of a piece of technology, and learn how to change it, or fix it, or end it. Rahu lead the way into battle. That doesn't sound like me. But in a sense, I guess I did. Ran after my two idiot pack mates who went running with the speed of Father Wolf all the way to the damn monster, and then got stuck. Following behind, I chased after them, at the speed of my own two feet. And behind me, a string of n00bs, who still don't know how this city works. I've spent time learning what it means to be a werewolf, what it means to be Uratha. I've spent time learning how to be an Iron Master. Maybe now it's time to learn to be a Rahu.
Last night I had a dream. Again, finally catching up to my pack. Seeing the spirit, and it's great, malevolent eye. But unlike the dreams before, the nightmares, like reality, no one is going to die. Not on this one at least. The phone flies, the monster blinks. My pack mates shake their heads, growl, and change form to fight the thing. Behind me, all the n00bs follow my lead, throwing rocks or whatever they can find.
I wake up calm and peaceful, rocked by movement of the ocean. I laze there for a while, listening to the calls of the gulls and noises of the other boats, the sounds of engines much more soothing than the birds. I think to myself... Maybe, just maybe, I can do this.