The Past Comes Home
summary: A quick look at the past of the Pack member known as White Saber. There's an interesting twist at the end.
This is a short story that Puma actually started writing, but she easily loses interest. I (Wolfsong) thought it the makings of a good Pack story, and with her permission and suggestions finished it. I don't know if you'll be able to tell where she stops and I start.
The Prologue
The wind was fierce and raged with a howling vengeance here in Siberia. The snow storm had let up a little since it started early that morning. He had arrived around six in the morning and it had taken him all day to get there. It had been seven years since he had seen the little warm cabin in the woods. He could still picture it like the day he left. He'd never did want to leave, but he couldn't stay either. The people in town had been getting very suspicious before he left. He knew he was different, but that didn't matter to the one person who had actually cared for him, Svenda Polav. She was the only reason he had left. He was afraid that if he stayed it would hurt her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He loved her. His only regret was that he didn't tell her why he left. His only reason was he couldn't stay. That was that.
Now he had returned. Full of hope and anxiety that nothing had changed. That she still loved him, and wanted him back. It was a foolish dream, bit it was the only thing he had to hold on to right now. 'Just a few more feet,' he thought to himself. He was close enough now to smell the wood burning in the fireplace and to hear soft, mumbled voices. 'Voices? I wonder who else is there?' he thought. When he reached the door he knocked, gently rapping. Someone whispered "Go to your room, darling" then opened the door.
"Oh my God," was the shocked reply.
"It's been a long time, Svenda, but I had to see you again," he said looking to the woman before him.
"Victor? Is it really you? Please come in." A tiny stream of tears started to run down her check. She had ice blue eyes and dark brown hair. He stepped into the little cabin where they had spent so much time together. All it consisted of was two rooms. One a kitchen/living area and the other was the bathroom. "The place hasn't changed much I see."
"No, not really," she paused a moment. "Why did you come back, Victor?"
"I had to see you again and explain something," he replied.
"Like why you ran out on my? That kind of hurt you know."
"I can explain. The people in town were starting to talk and I knew if I stayed here they'd try to run us out. I didn't want you to get hurt that way. So I did they best thing I thought I could. I left."
"I would have gone with you. I loved you, but when you left I thought you didn't love me," she explained.
"No, no, no. It wasn't because I didn't love you," he said, taking her in his arms.
"I waited for you for a year. After that I had to move on." She sat up and dried her eyes. "There's someone I want you to meet," she said getting you. She walked to the back room. A moment later she came back with a child hiding behind her. "Victor, this is Illya, my daughter. Illya this is Victor Creed. Now dear don't be afraid. Go on and say hi." The little girl stepped out from behind her mother and gently said "hi."
Victor's eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped a little. The child was snowy white with cat like ears and tail, blonde hair and blue eyes like her mother's. "Why hello," he stammered. She smile sweetly then looked to her mother for directions.
"Honey, why don't you go back in the room and play?"
"Okay," and she was gone.
"Wow...um...I...goss. Is she...mine?" he asked nervously.
"No. She's not." His expression sank a little. "Illya is only five. I'm sorry. I had to move on."
"So who's the father?" he asked in a more hurtful voice.
"I don't think it matters. He died when she was three. Barely remembers him."
"I'm guessing the unique traits come from his side of the family," he stated.
"Actually he was human, just carried the mutant genes," she explained meekly. "She looks more like you though."
"She does, doesn't she?" he said smiling a little. Truthfully, inside, he was upset, disappointed, and a little angry. "Well, you have a beautiful daughter. It was nice seeing you again..."
"You're leaving?" she cried.
"I don't think I can stay. Not like this," he said getting up.
"Why don't you stay?" she begged.
"Apparently you've moved on. And so should I." He hugged her and gave her a peck on the check. "Good bye, Svenda." Then he left, back into the freezing cold. The weather outside felt about the same as he did inside. The more he though about it, the angrier he became. "I don't need her any way. I don't need anyone," he said softly to himself.
Svenda watched him walk away for a second time. She hoped the best for him and prayed he'd be okay.
"Mommy, I'm hungry," Illya said tugging on her mother's skirt.
"Okay, darling. Let's get you something to eat." She left the window view wondering what might have been.
End Prologue
