To whom it may concern, I offer no excuse, because I have none, but yes I acknowledge that I suck. As a small note, I wanted to show a bit of Rapunzel's stunted knowledge and understanding of communication and interaction, with a side of Wolf!angst and some pseudo-fluff. No specific time-set, but definitely post-Henrik who I hadn't thought to include in the drabble.

Tenderness of the hollow-hearted


"Do you have a mother, Wolf?" Rapunzel happened to ask one day, her shorn blond hair curled and still damp from her bath at the nearby spring.

The Wolf turned to her, ears cocked. "Every living thing has a mother, Rapunzel." He sounded amused by her question.

She sighed and continued to try to teach herself how to sew, using a flat hide of deer folded on her lap. "No…what I mean to say is why don't you have any family, Wolf? You said that wolves hunt in packs, like deer and cows are in herds and crows in murders, and people in communities." She paused in her needlework to suck at a prick on her index finger. "Where is your pack, Wolf?"

He didn't answer her, choosing instead to turn to look out over the white knolls and naked trees and the few tenacious daisies that popped out from beneath the snow. Rapunzel looked up to watch him. She waited and set aside her practice to scoot closer to him, hands folded in her lap. "Did they leave you, Wolf? As my parents did to me?" she asked, head tilted to the side. There was no malicious bitterness in her voice. It was a fact, quite far in the past by now, fact of her life.

Despising her parents who had never even known would never do her any good. They'd shown their salt when they'd given her up to the enchantress, and she wanted nothing from or of them.

"No." His answer was firm and Rapunzel found herself intrigued by the force behind the answer.

"Then what happened? It can't be as silly as being sold for lettuce."

A cold wind blew passed and there was only the sound of night birds calling through the thick coverage of branches for a long while before the Wolf spoke again.

"When I was a pup, monsters stormed into the forest carrying flames in their hands. They smelled of smoke and could simply point in a direction and there would be a sound of thunder and one would drop dead. They were ugly things with small snouts and beady eyes. They found my pack and killed all of them, but for the very few that managed to flee. I was small enough so that I could hide under tree roots to escape the monsters. They tore my pack apart and laughed, ripping their skin from their flesh and wearing them; wearing the dead gaudily like gold."

His words were steady even after he finished but there was a tightness in them Rapunzel didn't immediately recognize. His ears had flatted throughout the story and remained that way.

In response, she felt her own chest tighten but couldn't completely comprehend it. "That isn't silly at all," Rapunzel offered quietly. The Wolf dipped his head down once, and then nothing more. Rapunzel didn't know what else to say to him and even if she had an idea, she was doubtful she would be able to articulate it well.

She stared at the Wolf and his eyes that could not cry and for a long moment, feeling the tense atmosphere, came closer to the Wolf to press against his side fully. She felt him tense and then relax beside her. With a slow, hesitant hand, she held her palm to the side of his face. She was close enough that she could feel the very tips of his fur on her skin. His ears lifted by degrees and turned towards her though his head did not move and his eyes remained staring off.

Moments passed long and sluggish, before the Wolf pressed the side of his face into her palm. His ear was cupped by her fingers and her small palm cradled his cheek. He shuddered for a moment and simply appreciated the feeling of her skin and her awkward comfort. He sighed when she turned her palm and rubbed his ear.

"I don't understand," she confessed quietly after some time while she was still rubbing his ear and stroking the fur over his cheek. "I don't understand but when you seemed sad, Wolf, I felt sad too. Do I pity you?" she asked.

The Wolf closed his eyes and continued to take some comfort in the contact she'd initiated. "Sympathy, fair Rapunzel. Yes. Yes, you do pity me. Fair Rapunzel, kind without knowing, taking pity on the orphaned beast." He rumbled in his chest and kept his eyes shut.

Rapunzel blinked, slowly and looked down at him. His head was low, and her hand had followed him to continue petting him. Her mouth became dry and her throat became constricted. "Oh Wolf. Oh Wolf," she folded her torso to lie against his back, hand still petting him. "Oh Wolf. I am not fair," she whispered, turning her face into his fur. "And I am not kind, most of all to you."