Title: Of Sticks And Stones And Broken Bones
Characters: Tai Lung, Tigress, Shifu
Summary: He strolls at a leisurely pace and she follows, carefully treading the path he has marked out for her; footprints fresh in the fallen snow.
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
i.
My father…no, he's never addressed him like that before.
Dear Master…he ruined his life; why bother with the formalities?
Shifu…he crumples the scroll just after scribing the final letter.
Writing shouldn't be this difficult, but it is. If only he was more gifted with language; he'd know exactly what to say to hurt him as much as possible, compose the most scathing farewell possible, make him see the incontrovertible truth that was the senile tortoise's erroneous judgement –
– but it doesn't matter any more; it's too late for meaningless apologies. Regardless of what will be written right now, he will see after tonight; a token of blood to pay this price.
Outside, the sun is beginning to set, commencing the inhumation of the afternoon. He dabs the brush into the ink receptacle and brings the tip, its bristles bleeding atrament, to the surface of the paper. Hand trembling slightly, he writes stenographically, slowly linking strokes under the brush's pressure. He transcribes the harsh syllables lodged deep in his throat, savouring the embittered language of denial, perforating every last character sneeringly and sardonically.
This is all your fault.
ii.
(On her own in her little room – this lonesome cell – she learns that silence has a sound.)
In the beginning, there was the goat and there were the other children – the only ones she ever knew. The only ones she ever knew eschewed her, all because they were too weak, because they just couldn't understand.
Then one day, there was him – the peculiar, frail-looking red panda standing in her doorway, clutching fragments of chiselled wood between his fingers. There was Shifu, willing to share this piece of his life with her, and all of a sudden she didn't feel so alone anymore.
.
Snow embraces her soul; for once it feels like a kindred friend instead of an unfamiliar enemy. An expanse of alabaster stretches into the heart of the forest and beyond the hills, an unbroken paling of white. The Jade Palace, a regal phantasmagoria in the winter air, sits on a mountaintop far away.
They're holding hands, near-perfect mirror images of each other, a double illusion joined at intertwined fingers. Around her, there's a fresh aroma of leaves and the muffled echo of wind singing, if she listens hard enough. An entire world reinvented, just for her to discover. With him.
He strolls at a leisurely pace and she follows, carefully treading the path he has marked out for her; footprints fresh in the fallen snow.