As the conversation veered away from that of the wolf's past, Delta realized that his tone notably lightened like that it had been before. A sore subject then; Delta would remember to not poke further. Even still, he couldn't stop himself from wondering, and hoping that it had not been too horrible for the stranger. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind before he found himself getting lost in them, and blinked with surprise at the wolf's statement of surface worship. The little cat had never heard of one not following Tsillah, and tilted his head as he continued to speak. At the mention of Ohr, his ears instinctually pulled backwards.
"Huh," Delta muttered, fear creeping into his voice, "I had never thought he'd be worshipped," at least, not in the water. He supposed it made more sense that land dwellers would seek his favor, but the thought of it still made his pelt crawl. Had the warnings of Ohr not made it deep enough to reach the abyss? Had it died in the shallows and shelves where his influence, despite Tsillah's efforts, was still at its strongest? "We were--it was told that, ah, he loved the land. And he grew jealous of water, where his light is scattered. He wanted us too, but he was so hot and bright, any water he touched would boil."
He shut his eyes, thinking back to when his sleek pelt had been fluffy and kit-soft, and he curled between his mother's paws. She'd told him this story then; the memory was hazy now, but the fear which stirred in his little heart still carried to this day. He'd seen it in her eyes then, and in the eyes of all the others before they went away. A pang of longing hit him then, and he tried to remember.
"So he tried to hold the water. He tried to take it all and keep us tight, and in his light we turned to steam. We boiled, but he was blind. He would not accept we could not love him, and he hurt us trying. Tsillah told us it was because he had not love for us, it was greed. If he loved, he would not make us something we were not. Her rage washed him away, and the blood she spilt from him, she covered in darkness--so we could swim and be safe again under her."
Delta finished, and noted with some surprise that he hadn't noticed the wolf laying down beside him as he recited bits of the old tale. He should have been startled, but strangely? He wasn't. It was nice having him lay down at his level, and Delta found himself relaxing again. Loch, he introduced himself as, and Delta gave a small smile.
"Loch. It is good to meet you," he said. Loch's next question caused him to furrow his brow, expression settling back into its perpetual worry as he instinctually looked upwards at the distant sunlight hitting the surface. "Ah--um, not much. I have looked. Laid on the bank once," he didn't mention the time something had scooped him from the water and nearly eaten him; he was in the air most of the time then. The very few times he had stepped on land had been unpleasant, his fins felt heavy and ungainly, and his stumpy legs made it impossible to keep his muzzle out of the grass and mud. He'd only crawled around the banks then, and had never dared to make it further than a few strides from the water's edge. "Have you?"
"Huh," Delta muttered, fear creeping into his voice, "I had never thought he'd be worshipped," at least, not in the water. He supposed it made more sense that land dwellers would seek his favor, but the thought of it still made his pelt crawl. Had the warnings of Ohr not made it deep enough to reach the abyss? Had it died in the shallows and shelves where his influence, despite Tsillah's efforts, was still at its strongest? "We were--it was told that, ah, he loved the land. And he grew jealous of water, where his light is scattered. He wanted us too, but he was so hot and bright, any water he touched would boil."
He shut his eyes, thinking back to when his sleek pelt had been fluffy and kit-soft, and he curled between his mother's paws. She'd told him this story then; the memory was hazy now, but the fear which stirred in his little heart still carried to this day. He'd seen it in her eyes then, and in the eyes of all the others before they went away. A pang of longing hit him then, and he tried to remember.
"So he tried to hold the water. He tried to take it all and keep us tight, and in his light we turned to steam. We boiled, but he was blind. He would not accept we could not love him, and he hurt us trying. Tsillah told us it was because he had not love for us, it was greed. If he loved, he would not make us something we were not. Her rage washed him away, and the blood she spilt from him, she covered in darkness--so we could swim and be safe again under her."
Delta finished, and noted with some surprise that he hadn't noticed the wolf laying down beside him as he recited bits of the old tale. He should have been startled, but strangely? He wasn't. It was nice having him lay down at his level, and Delta found himself relaxing again. Loch, he introduced himself as, and Delta gave a small smile.
"Loch. It is good to meet you," he said. Loch's next question caused him to furrow his brow, expression settling back into its perpetual worry as he instinctually looked upwards at the distant sunlight hitting the surface. "Ah--um, not much. I have looked. Laid on the bank once," he didn't mention the time something had scooped him from the water and nearly eaten him; he was in the air most of the time then. The very few times he had stepped on land had been unpleasant, his fins felt heavy and ungainly, and his stumpy legs made it impossible to keep his muzzle out of the grass and mud. He'd only crawled around the banks then, and had never dared to make it further than a few strides from the water's edge. "Have you?"