The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - chapter 7 Lovers - 7.18
Imported from SF2 with no description.
"That's about it," I said, dodging claws that nearly nicked my ear. Then I spun around and cleaved the core and its casing of the opponent with a single backhanded strike. "We’ve set a time to sit down and talk—just the three of us."
With a clang, that Snow drove his longsword into a squid, pinning it to the wall. The creature's tentacles flailed wildly, scraping the walls and floor, sending sparks flying. He approached calmly, careful to avoid the hooked claws. When close enough, he stabbed the oval body with a jagged dagger, twisting it until the creature's red spots dimmed and it fell motionless.
As I sheathed Gray Snow, the white wolf turned his head toward me and shrugged, gesturing a casual "good luck."
"Thanks," I said, relieved he wasn’t mocking me this time.
We piled the collected adamantine cores onto a small platform, counting and dividing the loot based on contributions. That Snow packed his share into a pouch at his waist, glancing meaningfully at the spot beside me.
"Oh, my brother thinks it’s too dangerous," I explained. "He’s never been interested in tower climbing, and it risks violating the council’s directives." The truth was, Piqsirpoq couldn’t stomach this paradoxical scenario, which defied logic even by the Academy and Tower's extreme standards. If causality was immutable, any actions within this situation would only further entrench the predetermined reality—a thoroughly unsettling thought. As for me... I’ve always found a peculiar, detached humor in facing the inevitable.
The wolf tilted his head, his ears flicking twice, but he didn’t press further.
"What’s wrong? Need a support group for emotional counseling?" I teased, elbowing his side. To my surprise, he snapped his head toward me, his ears standing stiff and upright.
"Oh, come on." Honestly, like father, like son. "Your reaction when I mentioned Lily was a dead giveaway."
He stiffened, then turned away as if he hadn’t heard me, but the redness of his ears betrayed him—they were practically glowing. Watching him flustered was unexpectedly amusing. So this is what schadenfreude feels like?
Still, I had no desire to make him uncomfortable, so I simply walked beside him in silence.
After a while, I noticed a shimmering light hovering ahead of me.
The silvery glow of the glyphs—Inuktitut syllabics—flickered in the dim corridor.
"Oh, no one really bothers me about that," I said casually, waving my hand dismissively. "The Senate only cares about mixed blood. For someone like me, who isn’t at risk of ‘leaving behind any tiny surprises,’ they’re not overly concerned with what I do."
That Snow looked at me, remaining silent.
"I never thought I’d experience what people mean by ‘inherent privilege,’" I added with a shrug, glancing at my tail. "I suppose realizing oneself is not always the victim is part of learning to empathize with others."
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting to my tail. New glyphs appeared, and I read them quickly.
"It was awful," I admitted with a bitter laugh, flicking my tail to the left. "Being treated as if I didn’t exist was terrifying. Even now, when I think back on it, I can’t fathom how I endured. I glanced at the palm of my right hand, repeatedly clenching and unclenching it in an attempt to ease the lingering discomfort. “Maybe... it was because there were still some certainties in life.” Placing my paw on the hilt of Gray Snow, I recalled the evening training sessions—the exhaustion from those grueling routines seemed to have been an effective way to avoid overthinking. "No, on second thought, it was the people—those who reached out to me and saw me for who I truly was."
The image of a massive white wolf flashed through my mind, his deep blue eyes slowly fading. A profound sense of loss swept over me.
"But how I was treated and what you should do are two different matters," I continued. The tower's realm was immense and unruly, making it nearly impossible to interpret the distorted signals emitted by other entities. Still, I understood his silence—it spoke of awkwardness, guilt, and shame. "When a system treats individuals unfairly, people tend to believe that the individual is at fault because it allows them to maintain their belief that following the rules will protect them from random misfortune. And when those who have been treated unfairly start demanding fair treatment, they're perceived as asking for special privileges--this is utterly absurd. The first step to freeing everyone from an unfair system is recognizing that we are not wrong. "I paused, feeling I had gained a little deeper understanding. " Love doesn't follow reason, I even believe that who we fall in love with, and who falls in love with us, isn't something we can control. It’s a fundamental truth of our existence, if you ask me, there's probably nothing more right than that. No one should ever feel sorry for any inherent trait they are born with; everything is part of you. And we should always be proud of ourselves, because that is who we are." I let out a chuckle, amused by my own sense of humor. "At least, that’s what a very wise wolf told me."
The dim corridor remained silent, but the weight on my shoulders seemed a bit lighter.
What do you think of that, space-time continuum? Stick your logic where the sun doesn’t shine!
That Snow bumped into me, interrupting my internal rant against the universe.
"Why so subtle? That’s not like you," I teased, poking his brick-wall-like flank with my finger. He turned his head slightly, his ears glowing even redder. His embarrassed state made me laugh, a sound so unrestrained I momentarily forgot the danger of drawing attention from lurking horrors—the many-tentacled kind.
This moment might not match the father-son bonding I once fantasized about during sleepless nights, but I quickly realized I’d never truly lacked it. There was nothing to compensate for.
So, I kept playing around with that Snow, listening to the sound of my own laughter—different now, but something I knew I’d grow used to.