March 30, 2013 - 2:28am — Seed
I do not fight often. I sensed the storm brewing; I think a lot of us did. I think that's why we were waiting there, on Dag's hill.
I do not fight often. I think it's the easy way. I don't think it accomplishes anything, really, except maybe stopping someone from fighting you. And only for a little while.
Today, I accepted that a little while was good enough. I learned my lesson -- I'm not a hero, not a warrior. I can never be that...And most days, that's for the best. Most days, I believe the world is better off with one less warrior -- one less person willing to surrender to doing hurtful things because they're an easy way to pass on hurt. But today...
Today, I felt there may be some worth in just stopping the fighting for a while.
When the first one came, it felt less like a war, less like a battle, and more like a stampede. Everyone just bore down on that solitary scout, pouding him and chasing him. For my own part, I stayed back; I think everyone got more hurt from being in a clutter than being for him...I only came forward when it felt like the creature itself was on the offense, when it was running to something, instead of just escaping the crowd.
I...Even if its life may not be the same as ours -- or maybe it was, as brief and insecure as so many...Or maybe it's just moved elsewhere. I don't know, but...
I wasn't happy. Seeing it fall.
...When I saw one fall...No, each time one fell... I found myself thinking "It didn't have to be this way." I suppose that's childish, naive thinking. Maybe it's their nature, that all they wish to do is fight deer like us, kill deer like us. But...If that's the case, then what I really felt, what I really wanted to say was "Nature isn't everything." and "I'm sorry."
Even if those sentiments are meaningless...One day, I would like to be able to say such things to them, or their representitives, or someone. I feel like I owe it.
The waves after that, where there were two or more, didn't offer me such luxury. I dashed around, not being very effective -- I was fast enough to keep pace, but couldn't time my efforts well. I switched targets often.
Not long before I left, I saw a little group, clustered defensively. I was growing tired...And felt like what I was doing was not really just. But I felt, seeing them, that if I could help them somehow...That would be enough. There were others standing there, winded. I made trying to protect those people my mission, for what little I would do. I only chased one more, when it came near a fawn I was watching. That fawn...I hope it was alright.
Between waves, I'd try and see how people were doing -- if they were hurt, if they needed help... I don't think they understood what I was asking, but I tried anyway. I tried to give a little comfort to the fawns, who largely shook me off. Oh, well; at least they seemed energetic and unharmed.
I was rarely more than scraped, but one very nice bright red stag and his starry-pelted friend would answer me, and try and clean what little damage I could take, in moments of confusion. Eventually, my rather useless efforts wearied me, and I said a particular goodbye to them before departing.
I'll keep on guard...And keep trying to write a poem for it...
And when this is over... I'd like to find someone to apologize to, to make peace with. I'd like to find some way of cleaning myself for this, for hurting something.
There's a reason I don't fight often.
Tracking for later
♥
This is neat! I like how you
Perhaps Seed should speak with Dag when he's back and well - he dealt with them by himself before, so perhaps he might be able to settle Seed's conscience?
That may be the less crazy
Still, I bet Dag could say a lot to put his mind at ease. Worth a shot, anyway.