Without You
AN: I don't own anything. Thistle and other chars belong to Clare Bell. The lyrics belong to the Johnathon Larson estate.
Without you
The ground thaws,
The rain falls
The Grass grows
Without you the seeds root
The flowers bloom…
Thistle-Chaser lay stretched out on the soft grass, staring listlessly into the water. It rolled back and forth, constant as ever. The ground was warm under her paws, finally thawing out after the last chill of winter had faded. Beside her, small flowers pushed their way up through the sand; further back on the beach, trees stretched themselves up into the salty air. Thistle sighed, blinking as the rain washed over her on its way to the sea. 'Without you am alone,' she thought.
The children play
If she turned her head to the right, she could see the cubs frolicking in the new grass, while their mothers watched anxiously. Thistle felt a hallow ache in her belly and she moaned softly. 'Quiet Hunter gone. No cubs now. No cubs ever.' She closed her eyes and slept.
The stars gleam
She woke several hours later, blinking and stretching in the quiet. Automatically, her gaze was drawn to the sky and she stared, unmoving, at the tiny diamonds scattered across the sea of black. 'Quiet Hunter, Thistle, watch stars,' she thought, digging her claws into the ground to forestall a fresh wave of pain.
The poets dream
Thistle lifted her head slightly, flicking her ears toward the soft pawsteps that were approaching. Even with her eyes closed, she recognized Thakur's smell. He lay down beside her, gently nuzzling the top of her head with his nose. "Nice night, huh?" he asked, jerking his muzzle up at the stars.
Thistle nodded absently. "Stars pretty," she said. "Good night for poets. Can dream on night like this." She didn't add that poets too reminded her of her long-lost mate.
The eagles fly
Over their heads, a dark black shape flew, screaming its defiance to the four corners of the earth. Thistle cowered back against Thakur, flattening her ears and baring her fangs.
"Eagle," Thakur whispered the word into Thistle's ear.
"Eagle fly," Thistle whispered back. At Thakur's nod, she lapsed back into her gloomy silence.
Without you
The earth turns
As she slept again, Thistle thought she could feel the impossibly fast motion of the earth under her paws as it hurtled through space, carrying her further and further away from the one she loved.
The sun burns
But I die….
Without you
Thistle dragged herself toward the pond, forced herself to drink. High in the sky above her, the great yellow sun poured out its heat, making her fur slick with sweat. It rolled off her forehead and into her eyes, blinding her with its salty sting. Shaking her head, she retreated to the shadows of the trees. As she curled up among the damp shade, her mind turned to her empty stomach. She was hungry; sh so hungry that she couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. But she couldn't find the willpower to get up and find something. She sighed again and closed her eyes. Willing herself to sleep. 'Maybe in dreams will see Quiet Hunter.'
Without you
The breeze warms
She woke to a soft caressing breeze and the smell fo meat. Openin her eyes, she stared around groggily. A blurry clan cat stood a few inches away, holding a strip of meat in her jaws. As Thistle's gaze adjusted, she recognized Bira. The other female put the food down and backed away. Thistle stood up and tottered toward the carrion. Taking it in her jaws, she slowly backed away, keeping her head down. As she stretched back on the ground, she watched as Bira padded away.
The girl smiles
She turned and glanced back, giving Thistle a tentative smile before walking away to rejoin the rest of the clan.
The cloud moves
Overhead, the wind whipped the clouds into a frenzy, driving them across the sky as the Named ones herded their three-horned deer. Thistle watched the clouds, eating absently. She barely noticed the taste of the food in her mouth and she swallowed automatically.
Without you
The tides change
If she closed her eyes, Thistle could see her beach, almost feel the sand under her paws. The ocean would be rising and falling, the tides as constant as the endless days.
The boys run
Her contented meditations was interrupted by the crash of paws. Yowling softly, Thistle retreated further into the trees, snarling quietly at the group of young yearlings that baroled past her on their way to the pond. 'Stupid males, no watch where going,' she thought, growling quietly to herself.
The oceans crash
In her mind's eye, Thistle saw the roaring power of her ocean as it crashed its way up the sandy beach. She took comfort in the hissing, snarling thing in her mind. Settling back down, she tucked her front paws under her chin and shut her eyes, determined to sleep before anymore painful memories could rise and take her.
The crowds roar
The grunts, groans and growls of the three-horns, dapplebacks, and irritated Named herders, swelled around Thistle-Chaser, merging with the sound of the ocean in her dream. She rolled over onto her side, burying her ears under her paws. 'Named ones, herd, nosiy,' she thought, twitching her tail in irritation. "All quiet! Thistle sleep," she shouted, but of course n o one heard her over the din. The Named were leading their herd s to the pond for their mid-morning drink.
The days soar
Thistle couldn't remember how long she had stayed in the forest. She only knew that she went down to the pond for water every day and that someone, usually Bira, but sometimes Thakur, brought her food. Once she thought she saw Ratha, but she couldn't be sure. She was in no mood to talk to her mother anyway. 'Don't want advice. Don't want 'I toldyou so,.' Thistle wasn't sure if she'd spoken that aloud or not, but she hadn't seen Ratha since the thought ahd entered her head.
The babies cry
She tried to tell herself she didn't care, that she was happier on her own anyway, but then she'd catch the distinct sound of the cubs in the nursery calling for their mothers, and the ache would begin all over again.
Without you
The moon glows
The river flows
But I die without you…
The seasons wore on and still Quiet Hunter did not retrn. Thistle's trips from the forest were fewer, and mostly at night. She found peace in the soft light of the moon and the gentle rush of the river as it rolled along. 'All goes on,' she thought one night as she walked back from getting her nightly drink. 'But Thistle die without Quiet Hunter.'
Without you
The hand gropes
The ear hears
The pulse beats
Thistle's gaze had turned completely inward. She moved through the days listless and unresponsive, keeping her head down. Even Thakur couldn't coax her from her stupor.
Without you
The eyes gaze
The legs walk
The lungs breathe
The mind churns
Quiet Hunter paced methodically behind the others, listening as the 'Song' filled his mind..or most of his mind. A small part, almost too tiny to really be acknowledged, was filled with thoughts of the odd little Named female who had helped him once, all those years ago. Shaking his head, he allowed himself to be lost in the Song. 'Better this way, if this one forgets,' he told himself.
Without you
Life goes on
But I'm gone
Cuz I die….without you