Immolation

[ksirafai.livejournal.com]

There’s a growl, bone deep, that I’ll always know.

Father is calling.

Father is calling, and alpha is calling, and we will be there where he needs us.

Everything is so bright.

Remember what it feels like.

Remember the rough weight of the Stone of London, bargained for and won.

Remember the delight of Fells and Jamie being back, and being able to bundle them and dance.

Remember Katrina’s face when she stood up for herself like a proper alpha.

Remember the feel of the frost this morning, crisp on my skin as I ran around the Bawn before the world was awake.

Remember Rowan half-laughing, half-scolding, when I clambered wolf-small through a window she left a bit too open to sit on her kitchen floor, tongue lolling and demanding breakfast.

Remember Rowan making bacon, and Robbie kissing her and stealing the frying pan because she never cooks it well enough for him and me both.

Remember Rowan looking at me when she thought I wasn’t looking, hoovering up the food and the warmth of their company, and seeing the little worry-lines frown as she tried to work out how long it had been since I slept.

Remember Rowan-

Remember Rowan.

I love her, more than anything in the world. I follow Howl because he’s in charge, and that’s how we work. I trust Fells because he’s the beta and because he teaches me. I like Robbie because he feeds me, Jamie because he laughs at me, Katrina because she’ll grow up to be more than her uncle, Kira because she’s like me but was brought up in the real world. I like Adam and Tolly; Adam because he’s trying to fit in where no one trusts him properly and because he has wonderful jumpers, Tolly because in spite of being quite important for his kind, he still is long-suffering and world-weary and looks at me like I’m an overgrown puppy with rabies and no manners and doesn’t say anything about it.

But I love Rowan.

I will miss her.

Howl has called us, and Fenris has called us, and I know what that means, and the only thing I can think is that my axe is broken, and the sky is bright with the winter-sun that sharpens shadows and shocks you with its warmth.

I’m hungry for the heat. I will chase the sun today.

- Rowan.

I told him. I told him to look after her, and I hope he will, and I can’t think about Rowan any more because I feel the heat of the sun on my shoulders and the rage building and I must care about nothing but the anger.

I am not born to love, or to care.

I am born to die, and I love the world so much right now, and I stare at the sun as I step into the office block I’ll die in, and the only thing I see is the fire I’m chasing.

I’ll reach the sun today.

The rage flames higher, and thought vanishes.

I am Skoll-Fire.

I burn.

Comments

[annwfyn.livejournal.com]

That's beautiful. Really really lovely and kinda heart breaking. Bless Skoll.

[twicedead.livejournal.com]

That gave me shivers.

[wraithwitch.livejournal.com]

Not that I'm an expert or anything, but I think that is the best short piece of garu fiction I've ever seen.
It sums up everything garu are supposed to be, and neatly explains why they're psychotic loons and why actually they're worthy of everyone else's respect, compassion and blessing.
(hm, I'm not explaining me at all well, perhaps I sould have just said - 'that kicked arse!')
=)

[lanfykins.livejournal.com]

The little fat man finds them sitting on their borrowed beds, unable to rest.

"There is news from London," he says. "I'm afraid... the Alpha is dead..."

What he says after is almost lost in the howl of anguish from Kira. Katrina winces a little, stiffens, turns her shoulder to her packmate, tribemate, cousin.

She is a Nikitinevich. Can't she behave like one?

"...Fells-Trees and Skoll-Fire..."

His words cut her, and for a moment the perfect mask she must show the world shivers.

I am a Nikitinevich.

She thanks him politely for the news and asks for an audience with someone in authority. The worst has happened, now surely it must be over. It is time to return.

I am a Nikitinevich.

He leaves, and she turns to meet Kira's verbal attack, curses and blame for preventing her going to Howl's side, for letting them die.

We couldn't have got there in time. We couldn't. I am a Nikitinevich, and I stand by my action. There was nothing I could have done that would have saved... them.

She stays with her cousin as fists, then claws, beat against the unyielding wood of the tree in patterns familiar from long hours of training. Skoll bouncing, encouraging, infuriating, never, it seemed, happier than when they were doing something well.

I am a Nikitinevich. We do not grieve over Metis.

She oversees Kira's raging grief over someone who had barely touched their lives, seeing in every move the patient/impatient training of the one who had taught them, fought them, stayed with them, shielded them.

It's the ingratitude that's annoying me. Nikitinevich don't grieve over Metis.

Kira kicks the tree and turns away, rage worn out. Night's Shadow is near her, a voice she will listen to where Katrina's would inflame her. She's done all she can. All her responsibilities have been discharged.

Now it's dark, and she's tired, and she's fifteen and a long way from home.

Nikitinevich don't cry.

She walks away, careful, quiet steps, into the wood where sound doesn't carry. She puts her back against a tree and allows herself, finally, to hear the words 'Skoll-Fire is dead.'

Not where anyone can see.

[sea-cucumber.livejournal.com]

awwww :'( :'(
some good writing, there...