he was unmoving, resting upon his grandiose throne handsomely; the young cub felt her heart rise to her throat for but an instant before she felt a strange sensation... but one she presently could not identify for what it was—it was like something had caressed the entirety of her being... but, had that truly happened? the young one could only tell he had been tensed when his demeanor shifted to one at ease. his words caused her to pout, her tail lashing behind her. i was born here,
she said impetuously, why should i not return?
but, after a mere moment, she seemed to shrink into herself. i am sorry—you frightened me, yesterday... us,
she clarified. her indignity had faded to nothingness, i was upset. i should not let my emotions...
she shook her head, trying to gain her bearings; she felt w i l d l y for this one: respect, adoration, some measure of trepidation, anger, confusion... her expression drifted from petrous to one of vulnerability. she, of so many words, was lost in what to say, how to say it—o, eloquence surely failed her then! she did not desire he fall victim to immediate ennui from her incompetence, and she lowered her body, shoulder-blades jutting upward.
he protected me. i do not think you meant to hurt me,
she eyes him now, unsure if this thought was fact or fiction, but he did not know. i think he can be taught to know... i think he can learn.
the kitten slunk forward. it was my fault. do you think... we could be forgiven?
she was indolent no longer, subservient, b e g g i n g for thread, a chance!
his response was swift, and she felt the cleaver of them heavily smash against her chest forcing her to gasp sharply, bereft of breath—were she capable of blushing, surely one would bloom upon her cheeks then as she felt blood rush to her head. his voice was hard, and as he went on, her ears buzzed loudly as she suffered through her humiliation, this terrible denial of some truce between them, how horrible!. she almost did not hear him fully, so lost within her supposed failure that she could think only of the best time to escape. she could offer no scathing, crusty remark to him, and truth be told, whatever crusty words she might have to say would have escaped her anyway as she interpreted and listened. it took her a minute to comprehend, but when she did, she exhaled a long withheld breath that she did not know she had kept, a look of relief taking place of the once horror-stricken look that lingered on her countenance. he invited her to join him, and the jaguar cub did not delay. her muscles bunched in her hinds and she leaped upward, tail coiling as she did so. clawing for a moment at the stone, she was able to hoist herself up beside him.
i understand,
she empathized, and oddly, she truly felt she did. the jaguar had wanted to return here terribly after all, even despite it being guarded by this one. perhaps that was in some way a territorial attribute of hers; artemïs wanted this place even despite the battle here. i am artemïs,
she introduced herself in kind, but continued. that three-headed one, he is kerberos. he is good—protective, too. of me, i think.
she tilted her head and watched him. she had forgotten something, but it comes to her then—you need not apologize, either. were you born here, too?
upon hearing his words, the jaguar cub drew nearer to him, hopefully arriving to his breast and leaning inward to rub her cheek roughly against it in catlike camaraderie, her heart aching for him; she felt atrabilious for him, to be banished from ones own place of birth! it—it is your birthright!
comes her unrestrained words, bouncing off the rock walls wildly as she hollered. they cannot banish you from a place where you belong—
she swallows thickly, you must take it back!
and here she was, the argonaut; but the risk was worth the reward, if one was careful about it. the babe watched him with doe-like eyes, wondering at his ability to accept the fate ordered to him. could he not change his own fate? d a m n those that try to force her in anything; only she could determine what her future was! her lips purse and she withdraws from him, to look at the large melanistic man fully. cancer,
her heart flutters, rises to her throat, so passionate she feels in this—you must take back what is yours.
conviction rang in her words, and her tail lashed behind her. perhaps one day she might have felt this way toward the throne if she was not allowed to stay here... but here was where her heart way, upon the stony place they lay. and his question, in regards to her own self, she lifted her head as high as it could be held—although her jaw perpetually hung over the muted green upon her throat, dull with the days disuse—her words, surely as sweet as a nougat, came softer now: i am alright, now.