Little Blue Strings

Little Blue Snippets IV

The moon, that mysterious disk that hangs over the garden sky, is full, bright and overwhelmingly immense. It lights the paths through the garden with an intense light, making it seem as if it were day.

Down one of these lit paths, set ablaze by the silver glow, walks a lone, stunning white stag. He is young, having recently attained his first set of antlers, but his clear blue eyes hold wisdom far beyond his years. Currently, they are swimming with thoughts and images of another set of eyes. Golden eyes, to be exact. Golden eyes that belong to a very sorrowful creature who, at this very moment, lurks in the shadows nearby.

Life can sense the sullen presence. It is like a black cloud on a clear-skied day. It does not unnerve him to know he is being stalked by the wolf, but it leaves a feeling of empty sadness on his heart. The wolf emanates this feeling, spreading the emotion to those around him. Is this how Death feels? Empty, cold, joyless and miserable?

He pauses in the center of the little silver-lit pathway. Should he speak with Death? The wolf is rather shy and evasive... He has not seen the dreary, sentient swathe of shadow lurking about for quite some time. It isn't as if Life had missed his opposite in anyway. It wasn't like he had felt like a part of his heart was missing- not at all. He hadn't felt that way at all. ...Right?

He flickers, and the young stag is no more.

"You don't have to hide yourself from me," he says as he turns to face the darkened trees. The moon, which now rests behind him, throws his shadow far down the path. Life does not notice that it is not entirely his shadow, but the shadow of the stag that has followed him into this form.

There is a soft rustle, almost inaudible, and the lithe outline detaches itself from the mass. The wolf pads nearer to him, ears flat and tail tucked, until it reaches the divide between the light and the darkness. Death stills his movements, his eyes watching the young man in white.

Slowly, so as not to startle the farouche being, Life knees down on the trodden ground, trying to appear as harmless as possible.

"I'm not going to hurt you. It's alright."

Life extends his arm, offering a hand to the wolf. A moment passes before Death takes a tentative step forward, crossing the threshold of shadow. His fur reflects almost none of the moon's light.

It takes a few minutes of this- one step at a time, one paw after the other- until the wolf reaches Life. He stares at the hand, unblinking. Life carries the strong, sweet scent of honeysuckle, Death realizes. He moves forward, pushing his muzzle against Life's open hand.

Life is warm. Death hasn't felt anything like this before. His tail twitches on its own accord, moving side to side in the slightest.

You shouldn't be here with him. You shouldn't make room in your heart for him. He will only bring you pain. He's your opposite. You were born to hate him. You should hate him. He is everything contradictory to what you exist for. Life shuts away the little voice in the back of his head. He knows all of this. It is risky to befriend one who should be your enemy. But...Death... He isn't sure. He thought Death was simply a malicious murderer, with no regard for life or love. However, he has come to see that this is not the case. Death is shy and softly spoken. Sad and unloved. Alone.

A low whine rises in the wolf's throat as Life runs a hand through the soft black pelt. Life stops when he reaches the face of the wolf; he stops to place a hand on either side of that lonely face and tenderly caress the silky fur. He almost laughs when he realizes he is showing Death the same gentleness he gives to Peace when she is troubled.

"The moon is full and the stars all shine tonight," he says to the wolf. "Walk with me. I wish to show you something."

He smooths back the fur of the wolf's head before he stands. Death looks up at him, his head cokced to the side and his tail swishing back and forth. When Life steps forward, Death follows at his side, close enough that Life can rest his hand on the wolf's back.