Javed, in his terse, matter-of-fact way, had explained all of the moot rites to her before -- prepared her for what was coming, and what her role would be.
So, she'd been prepared for this rite. Javed, as usual, made everything sound so wholesome. This is the time when they become as one pack, united, casting off human notions of being separate. This is the time when they embrace their natures, and cleanse the sept.
If there is one thing, however, that Ruby does not wish to do, it is to embrace her nature. She holds on to rage with a vice-grip, keeping it in at all costs, because she is so afraid that to let go is to hand the reins over to something else that will use her, will only allow her to peer through her eyes as her puppeted body does terrible things.
She'd been prepared for the rite, but not for herself.
Hector challenges everyone, but it's not her fight, it's theirs. He's not talking about her. She tries to hold on, but she can feel it, rising in the air like static, the way the tension builds. The man can no longer be a man, and growls instead of shouts, yipping and barking at the wolves to her sides, and she almost leaps out at him, teeth bared, paradoxically enraged that he would bait her into anger -- except that Avery gets there first.
And, just there... it becomes apparent as to why she has been sandwiched between these two the whole night. It's Avery's place to get there first, and for Ruby to follow. They won't let her get anything wrong.
It is acceptable, in this place, at this time, to feel -- to want to hunt, and drip blood between her claws, and belong in a place, lowly as hers might be.
The howl slips through them all like the release a bolt of lightning must feel on its way down. And they are as one, even Ruby, reckless, for the first time in too long.
So, she'd been prepared for this rite. Javed, as usual, made everything sound so wholesome. This is the time when they become as one pack, united, casting off human notions of being separate. This is the time when they embrace their natures, and cleanse the sept.
If there is one thing, however, that Ruby does not wish to do, it is to embrace her nature. She holds on to rage with a vice-grip, keeping it in at all costs, because she is so afraid that to let go is to hand the reins over to something else that will use her, will only allow her to peer through her eyes as her puppeted body does terrible things.
She'd been prepared for the rite, but not for herself.
Hector challenges everyone, but it's not her fight, it's theirs. He's not talking about her. She tries to hold on, but she can feel it, rising in the air like static, the way the tension builds. The man can no longer be a man, and growls instead of shouts, yipping and barking at the wolves to her sides, and she almost leaps out at him, teeth bared, paradoxically enraged that he would bait her into anger -- except that Avery gets there first.
And, just there... it becomes apparent as to why she has been sandwiched between these two the whole night. It's Avery's place to get there first, and for Ruby to follow. They won't let her get anything wrong.
It is acceptable, in this place, at this time, to feel -- to want to hunt, and drip blood between her claws, and belong in a place, lowly as hers might be.
The howl slips through them all like the release a bolt of lightning must feel on its way down. And they are as one, even Ruby, reckless, for the first time in too long.