| abstract
| - Author: Pook Pook felt like she was walking on air. She was dancing on air. She was a being entirely composed of air. She had had...difficulties, it's true, since her life had changed so much. But she had gained so much... She thought about sitting on a rock near a waterfall under the moon with him and her head spun. Looking out over the edge of Azshara, admiring the changing landscape in Desolace. She smiled and felt delirious, a laugh bubbling from the pit of her stomach, playing up through her spine and ringing out when she thought about falling asleep under the stars, curled in his arms. She hadn't laughed before, in all this time. She hadn't much been happy before. Content, certainly, and comfortable at times, but nothing like this delirious spiral. She spun on the heel of her boot, whipping around like she'd used to done when she was more bestial just for the sheer exhiliration of it. There's no way any of this could have happened without her transformation, the complete rearranging of her being. As her spinning slowed she started to actually look around and take in her surroundings. She was here. Again. Her feet had once again taken her to the doorstep of the Wisps and Spirits. If she didn't concentrate this was where she always found herself, standing on this threshold, drawn here by powerful forces. The other part of her soul was in there, in the form of a tangle-headed white-haired Night Elf girl who looked just like her named Prrow. Made up of all the parts of her that had been discarded, she was frail and couldn't make a single sound. Pook had taken all the ability to speak and more. Pook knew that she could end her transformation at any time. It would be as simple as walking in the door, joining hands with Prrow and letting the two of them merge once again. Her soul was calling out to be whole again, and that call was growing more desperate over time as Prrow's health faded. But the recombination, once complete, would be a complete reversal back to the way she was. She knew it with a calm certainty. Try as she might, there was no way to go back halfway - at least not that way. The others were supposed to be looking for another way, one that would combine them with a more even mixture and leave her still able to reason and speak, but she knew down to the pit of her soul that her time was running out. She could feel Prrow's hold on the world, on reality, slipping. She heard voices inside. Callence, and...Jinx? No, it was the other one. Jinx's double from the Ritual, Redux. Somehow she'd been able to hold on to herself and end Cromwell's power over her...but Jinx was a lot stronger than Pook in her heart, and Prrow was a lot weaker than Redux in her soul. "I don't know what else I can do for her," Redux sighed. "I make her comfortable, but she sleeps almost all day and all night. Look at her! You can almost see right through her..." "Redux...I miss Pook. I miss the way she used to be. Do you think she'll come back to us?" Callence asked. "I don't know..." Redux said, the sadness and frustration in her voice clear. "Well...maybe if we brought her here, made her see Prrow, do you think..." Callence started. Pook's eyes went wide and she took a step back. A shiver of pure terror ran through her. They were going to force her...to MAKE her go back?? Her knees started to give way. They couldn't make her...they couldn't catch her... Her heel found the edge of the stoop and started to slip... Strong arms caught her, wrapped around her. A soft voice in her ear, spread by a grin. "Hello there. What are you doing here?" Pook sank gratefully into Tybilt's arms. "I don't know. Let's go somewhere else," she said, walking away quickly, thinking about the other night. "Tybilt," she'd said, the night air wrapping around them as they sat by the falling water. "My trransforrmation, this change in me, I don't know how much longerrr I can hold it." He had frowned, not meeting her eyes. "What if--" she said, but he'd held a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Don't think about it. Let's not talk about it," he'd said. Sooner or later, they would have to discuss it. She almost felt sick when she thought about what would happen, what would really happen between them if she was no wiser or able to converse than an animal again. And no matter what they did or planned or said, it felt like that time was looming above them. She needed more time. She needed more strength to hold on, as long as she could. As long as it took. She would do anything, say anything to make this time last longer. Until it didn't matter to him whether she went back to how she was or not.e that would combine them with a more even mixture and leave her still able to reason and speak, but she knew down to the pit of her soul that her time was running out. She could feel Prrow's hold on the world, on reality, slipping.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)