A Journey Of Death

Death For Love

Nuzzled together they lay, one warm the other growing cold, its time dwindling as blood fell, dying its fur a deeper shade, one that matched the shadows which would become its grave. The dying beast was silent, no energy to spare, no way to sound its sorrow, it simply remained crouched on a plain of cracked and broken rock, leaning into the figure of the one it loved, letting the slow winds tussle its fur as it drifted further from love and closer to death.

Neither of them ready for what comes next.

"Can you save him from death?"

"I cannot."

"Please... you, must know a way..."

"Death can be stalled but never stopped."

There are times when I speak without action, not knowing why I use the words I do, but I voice them regardless. Perhaps this is what following Death has led me to become?

Curious about the life of those that die.

"Tell me of these beasts... tell me of their journey that has led them from love to death."

"I will tell you of their journey where Love brought them together, where one chose to die for the sake of love."

I will now tell you of what 'Love' told me, a story within a story as it were.

How quaint.

The beasts have no name, for their is none to grant them one, they are discarded as they are born, left to fend for themselves. To carve their own way through a life of solitude, to journey through the myriad layers of shade, survival their only goal. 'Love' told me of how they met by chance, wary of one-another, seeing the other as no more than a predator, a meal and an end.

In distance they travelled, always wary, always cautious.

Two beasts of no tongue depending on only themselves.

The change came when food grew scarce, the beasts ventured further into the desolate lands, stepping past and climbing over the dangers in their path, always separated by the distance between them, but driven closer as the threats they faced grew more dire.

Until their was no distance between them at all.

My argument at this time was that danger had led to their entanglement of love, instead 'Love' told me of how all along they had cared for the other, maybe they knew of the actions they took, I do not know. When one fed the other would pause and slow, when one rested so would the other, through shadow after shadow they walked together, two beings living as one.

Seeking refuge in the other.

It was through this their love began, unable to be spoken, not needing to be acknowledged, for what is shared does not need to be proven.

But all stories must meet an end... even mine is no different.

Finally the beasts met their match, a creature, an abomination more hideous and powerful than them had struck as they rested, tearing at them as the distance between them was torn. Through the savage mauling of tooth and claw they resisted, winning at the cost of love as one of the beasts lay wounded, damaged beyond its own means to heal, its body sacrificed to save the other.

It would not be spared from death despite its victory.

Even so, they resumed their journey, their bodies close yet so far as the distance between life and death grew, a gap that no amount of love could bridge.

It was with a final stop that the beasts lay still, uncaring of the long shadows drawn to the horizon, of the light that vainly attempted to leak through. They rested together, their hearts and bodies as one.

One warm, the other cold.

It was with the end of 'Love's' story that the beast relinquished it's last breathe, accompanied by the mournful wake of its lover, dyed in blood as it's howl reached to the skies, caring not if its presence was known.

"I will remember the death of such love."

'Love' interrupted me here, our views different.

"Where you saw the death of love, I saw the start of it, the struggle of it and the mourning for it. The yearning for love that is no longer there."

The pull was beginning to guide me once more, shifting my attention as I began to drift. Quietly leaving 'Love' alone, covered in shade, hovering above as she watched the beast bellow, giving voice to its sorrow, refusing to move on, refusing to forget its love.

There was nothing more for me here, I had seen the death that was due.

"I believe that love cannot so simply die. 'Death', perhaps they will love again...do you think it possible?"

"I do not know... but I wish it so. For you."

"...As do I. I have seen love in many forms. The blossoming, and the retreat but this is the first time it has led to death. When your very meaning is gone, what do you continue for?"

I only vaguely recall my answer at that time, but I hope it was heard.

"...For the memory of it."