Chaos: It's that updating time again! Well, what can I say about this chapter? Personally I like it, but you readers may find it a little dull after the last one. On another note, I'm finding it quite fun to work out the lack of reviews. I've narrowed it down to three things;
1. No review responses mean that reviewing seems pointless.
2. Authors are unwilling to be seen reviewing a Sonadow (maybe why there are several anonymous reviews). I find this a little silly, since it's not like this is going to become some kind of OOC smut-ridden mess. I hope!
3. Everybody who reads it gives a review. This means that three or four people are reading each chapter about twenty-five times each. (laughs)
Update: Ryuko reminds me that review responses are now not allowed. I remember checking over most of the site when it was just a rumour and finding nothing, but now they actually do have a section where it says they're not allowed. Damn! Ah well, I'll probably use the 'reply' option on the review page then. Though I don't find it very nice of ffnet to impose this kind of thing, I think reader-author interaction is important for criticism, friend-making, and of course ego-boosting. (laugh)
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Shadow hadn't experienced this feeling before. He wasn't quite sure what it was, whether it even had a name. All he could tell was that it was something akin to desperation, or perhaps longing, and it was eating a hole in him.
He had thought that having the blue creature return would be like a godsend, a miracle, an immediate end to his misery. He could have laughed at that now.
"Please."
He felt as though he was in several pieces – one was angry, wanting to scream at the hedgehog for not speaking, for getting kidnapped, for hating him without any logical reason he could find, for somehow capturing his heart and being so careless with it. Another wanted to just curl up and cry, childlike, and give up on the creature.
Then there was the third one, which was hungering almost feverishly to get past that terrible hatred, the mistrust that had never quite subsided before, and regain the silence.
"I am not going to hurt you."
For it wasn't silence any longer. There was only a grating growl, showing that maybe the hedgehog was tired, maybe it was sick, but there was about as much chance of it letting him close as there was it discussing the weather with him.
It was collared again, in the same place as before, but that didn't make him feel any better. Worse, in fact, because it wasn't the ideal area for a recovery, and he had no other right to keep it.
A dark droplet of blood fell and hit the carpet, but he had stopped noticing about the time that the floor where he kneeled had gained enough of a stain to be ruined.
"I want to help." There was an unexpected tremor in his voice, as though it was unused to speaking with such feeling and fervour. As indeed it was.
The growl faltered a little, but the eyes remained as fixed as ever. During its absence, the blue hedgehog seemed to have become even more like a savage animal and there was no longer even a flicker of emotion that it didn't keep hidden.
It had been hurt somehow. And not just physically. Hurt enough to give up even a wisp of a hope that anybody would do anything but harm it. And yet still it didn't give up, didn't break.
He didn't know what had gone on at the Eastern Lord's territory, what trauma had moulded it into creating such a shell for itself but somehow not had not broken its spirit in the process…
But he fervently wished never to find out.
"Please..."
He had thrown down any shield around himself, exposing all but his darkest emotions, for nothing else would be able to get through that shell now.
There was another falter in the horrible sound, a long pause, and he wondered what thoughts were flitting behind the angry hostility that burned green.
Then the growl faded slowly, and when it had completely died the hedgehog's jaws loosened a little, gradually pulling apart until Shadow could extract his hand, the Lord unable to suppress a wince passing across his features as he did so.
When he was entirely free and hurriedly wrapping a thin sheet around his hand - if only to stop the blood loss for the carpet was beyond saving - the hedgehog slumped down, as though it had worn out all its energy in the decision it had just made.
It wouldn't look at him as he reached once more for the bandages on its shoulder, gently untying and then unwinding them to clean the wound, and he could feel tension in its muscles under his fingers.
But it didn't growl. And it didn't bite.
That step, as small as it might be, was sufficient for now. The hedgehog could still be saved. And that was enough for him.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The trauma of the previous day must have affected Shadow more than he realised, for he slept so deeply that the sun was well on its way to its zenith when he became groggily aware that there were loud noises beyond his slumber.
With a brief moan of discomfort, he snaked out an arm to grab one of the free pillows and jammed it over his head to muffle the noise, uncaring of etiquette since the person disturbing him obviously had never entertained the concept.
Still, his curved spines prevented the pillow from blocking as much sound as he would have liked, and he reluctantly forced himself to listen. Somebody was crying out with a sort of shocked pain, and it was underlain with a vicious growling which drilled into his ears mercilessly.
He tossed the pillow aside and turned over, sitting up and putting a hand to his head sleepily. The room was flooded with sunlight, which surprised him, and one of his slaves was yelling opposite him and shaking its arm violently, at the end of which the hedgehog was snarling.
"What… are you doing?" He asked, voice still soft with drowsiness but enough to make the slave jump in surprise. The sudden jerk was too much for the hedgehog, which released its teeth from the servant's fingers and settled back, growling a warning.
"I, I… just… I was… bandages…" The slave stammered in reply, shooting shocked glances at the blue creature and quite forgetting the usual courtesy as it rubbed its injured hand.
Shadow muttered something under his breath, still a little unwilling to think clearly and not just doze off again, before lifting his voice. "Leave it. I will see to it."
The slave nodded hesitantly and shot one last look at the hedgehog, whose growl had faded away as Shadow spoke, before walking out into the corridor and shutting the door with no small amount of relief.
Shadow sighed and pushed the sheet aside, shivering in the crisp morning air and completely resigning himself to being unable to sleep the entire day away, much as he wanted to.
He stretched briefly, made a half-hearted attempt to smooth out his quills, and slid his feet to the floor. His breakfast tray had been left on the side of the nearest table, and though it was now cold he accepted the food gladly.
He offered a piece of toast to the hedgehog, which ignored him, gaze fixed on the floor. He sighed, wondering dryly whether it had acquired a taste for living flesh now since it seemed to bite in preference to any other defense.
He pondered that; why didn't it kick or punch? Maybe it was because drawing blood always caused more of a shock to the opponent and would make it more likely to back down. But even so, he would expect some other form of attack…
In his musing he had automatically adorned his usual shirt, but a subtle difference in it brought him back to his senses and he stared – the front had been slashed, just a little, but enough to tear the fabric not a centimeter from his chest.
It looked like he hadn't quite avoided those hideous teeth after all, and the thought made him shiver as he tugged the shirt off and replaced it with another, silkier one that was regrettably not as good at keeping the chill out.
He had been lucky not to receive a scratch…
And the thing was still in the crypt, he reminded himself. He thought wistfully that the fire may have killed it, but he couldn't assume it was so until he saw for himself, and the thought made another tremor run down his spine.
Later. He had other things to sort out first, like replacing the hedgehog's bandaging again – the wound was still too fresh to leave for too long. He set about the task gratefully, noting the blue Wild's reaction; it was less tense than before, but still didn't look at him, and it was beginning to feel decidedly odd to him to not have the gaze burning into him for this amount of time.
He frowned a little, unsure. The hedgehog seemed to have compromised. It didn't view him as a threat any longer, it seemed, but that didn't mean it would register him in any other way.
He felt an unexpected tingle of pain at the thought, wondering whether it would ever actually trust him – after all, what reason did it have to do so? – and stood once more, pulling his cloak around his shoulders for some kind of reassurance.
With a sigh he crossed to the door with the torn shirt, heading down to the slave's quarters to have them attempt to repair it, and trying not to brood about the blue hedgehog.
