(no subject)
I do not know if there is anything that might have rendered me even the slightest bit prepared for the events of last night, but unprepared I was, supremely so. The recent days had slipped past peacefully, with the exception of a very short sleepwalking excursion on Lucy’s part, which was quickly interrupted by Liza. It has been so very quiet round the grounds otherwise. I suppose it was that tranquility that influenced my already developed inclination to venture out once more. I should find nothing strange in that, for I have done so before, only I felt curiously distracted, even by the smallest things - the sound of the wind, the creaking of the door as I shut it behind me, even the view of the darkened sky, which was cloudless and immaculate. I might have drifted onward, taking in such details, indefinitely - but there was one detail yet to be discovered.
Our deceivingly peaceful forest harbours wolves.
It is not the first piece of information regarding our secluded retreat to have descended on me as something of a shock, but assuredly it was the swiftest in prompting a reaction. One approached me (an introduction I could have done without) from the mist - which had clouded my view but apparently had done little to obscure his. And, mindlessly frightened out of my wits, I made the very appealing mistake of gazing back at it in horror before fleeing for my life - but perhaps I ought to have avoided looking at the animal at all? I cannot tell. All my instincts were screaming to place as much distance between myself and the wolf as possible; which was sadly difficult, as he had stamina and four legs and I had merely two (in addition to twisting skirts and ridiculous boots, all of which fought against me infuriatingly). It should come as no surprise that I collapsed at length, but at that moment, nothing could have surprised me more. What is to be said of it? How can I describe the terror that numbs your senses to be trapped beneath such an animal, its breath on your face? What describes the knowledge that the next breath you take will be your last? Having fallen, certain my life had reached its end, an influx of thoughts crowded my mind, one more prominent than the rest. How shall they ever tell Lucy?
There was a sibilant whisper and a imperious clap, and the moment passed - the wolf stepped back, granting me a chance to hastily snatch up my skirts and prepare to run off again, but upon sitting up, my gaze met the Count’s. He spoke to the animal with utter calm and control, and the wolf sat down in perfect obedience. He then knelt beside me and asked if I had been hurt - I replied that I had not, but as I was still shaking, he beckoned the wolf to draw nearer, holding out his hand to the animal and petting it as one might a dog. All the while he explained how the creature had really only been protecting his home, how even the most ferocious of beasts have a very different side, and how I must not forget either side. I think I must have nodded silently, petting the wolf in astonished obedience. All seemed surreal in that impossible moment, when even the nature of an untamed animal bowed in submission to the will of my extraordinary friend.
When it became evident that I had injured myself in my fall, he accepted none of my refusals and proceeded to graciously carry me back to my room, alternately speaking to me soothingly and gently laughing, so that I did not notice either the pain or the time it took to reach the chamber. He then set me down easily, as though I were a light child. Taking my hand, he wished me a peaceful night. It remained to me only to fall asleep; a feat I could not quite accomplish immediately. It is curious, but I felt as though I had been hiding from the very thing I was searching for, and in the chaos, I had been rescued twice.
Our deceivingly peaceful forest harbours wolves.
It is not the first piece of information regarding our secluded retreat to have descended on me as something of a shock, but assuredly it was the swiftest in prompting a reaction. One approached me (an introduction I could have done without) from the mist - which had clouded my view but apparently had done little to obscure his. And, mindlessly frightened out of my wits, I made the very appealing mistake of gazing back at it in horror before fleeing for my life - but perhaps I ought to have avoided looking at the animal at all? I cannot tell. All my instincts were screaming to place as much distance between myself and the wolf as possible; which was sadly difficult, as he had stamina and four legs and I had merely two (in addition to twisting skirts and ridiculous boots, all of which fought against me infuriatingly). It should come as no surprise that I collapsed at length, but at that moment, nothing could have surprised me more. What is to be said of it? How can I describe the terror that numbs your senses to be trapped beneath such an animal, its breath on your face? What describes the knowledge that the next breath you take will be your last? Having fallen, certain my life had reached its end, an influx of thoughts crowded my mind, one more prominent than the rest. How shall they ever tell Lucy?
There was a sibilant whisper and a imperious clap, and the moment passed - the wolf stepped back, granting me a chance to hastily snatch up my skirts and prepare to run off again, but upon sitting up, my gaze met the Count’s. He spoke to the animal with utter calm and control, and the wolf sat down in perfect obedience. He then knelt beside me and asked if I had been hurt - I replied that I had not, but as I was still shaking, he beckoned the wolf to draw nearer, holding out his hand to the animal and petting it as one might a dog. All the while he explained how the creature had really only been protecting his home, how even the most ferocious of beasts have a very different side, and how I must not forget either side. I think I must have nodded silently, petting the wolf in astonished obedience. All seemed surreal in that impossible moment, when even the nature of an untamed animal bowed in submission to the will of my extraordinary friend.
When it became evident that I had injured myself in my fall, he accepted none of my refusals and proceeded to graciously carry me back to my room, alternately speaking to me soothingly and gently laughing, so that I did not notice either the pain or the time it took to reach the chamber. He then set me down easily, as though I were a light child. Taking my hand, he wished me a peaceful night. It remained to me only to fall asleep; a feat I could not quite accomplish immediately. It is curious, but I felt as though I had been hiding from the very thing I was searching for, and in the chaos, I had been rescued twice.