Title: a greying wolf howls the same old song at the moon
Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Carol Ann Duffy.
Warnings: Um… future!fic, I guess. Somewhat sad.
Pairings: none mentioned, though I do have one in mind.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 315
Point of view: third
A day after it's done, he falls apart.
He goes out into the wild, away from town and people and I'm sorry and If he could've chosen any way to go, it'd've been this. He takes his horse and no saddle, no bridle, nothing but a gun and a knife and what's in his mind. He takes enough food for a single meal, because he learned to live off the land long ago.
Town made him weak, civilization and its lies. Its promises. Town made him weak, and the men he found there. Made him believe he could have family again. Made him believe he was worthy.
A day after it's done, he rides away without a word. He's said all he'll say. More words in an hour than he'd spoken in a year. The only true goodbye he's ever given. He doesn't look back, or regret.
He can't regret.
The sky stretches before him, and the land. His land, sure as he belongs to her. He learned that if you take care of the land, she'll care for you. She's the only thing a man can ever really count on.
All the caring he has left is for his horse, who's never let him down in ten years, and the land that offers him sanctuary when people are just too hard. All the caring he has left… too much has been spent on people. They aren't something you can count on, when the dust dies down. They don't know how to stay.
That, he's learned sure as the sun'll rise in the morning.
A day after… he doesn't cry. He hasn't cried. He stands facing the sunrise, eyes dry, and knows he's done with people for good. Should never have stayed so long in one place.
His horse nudges his shoulder and he swings himself up. He clucks his tongue and they move out, into the wild, the home where he never should have left.
