No Hands but My Own

Chapter 21 - Acceptance

At one point, several clans had worked together in an attempt to “cleanse” the forest of Straggler’s presence. They only succeeded in making every subsequent encounter with Stragglers more violent and deadly.

Quala’s competitive nature suddenly seemed natural, as did her extraordinary viciousness when even sparring and her ability to glide silently on any terrain despite her size and lack of training. Survival in the woods was hard; surviving the wilderness on your own, near impossible.

“I -- I’ll leave now.” I had not realized how long I had stayed quiet, piecing together Quala’s quirks with this new information. I glanced up to see her standing, resolve tainting her eyes with darkness.

“Absolutely not.”

“What?” She said, dumbfounded.

“You’re staying. That is, if you want to stay.”

“Want to --?” Quala stared at me, her eyes wide, “Don’t you understand what I just told you? I lied! I’m a Straggler -- a filthy, good-for-nothing, crazy!” She seethed, glaring at her hands as if she could see blood dripping from them, “I’m dangerous.”

I stood and grasped her outstretched hands. “And that’s alright.”

“Alright?” Quala tore her hands out of mine, her face flushed. “It’s not alright! I could steal all your things; I could kill you all while you sleep, and no one would be the wiser; I could --”

“But you wouldn’t.”

She sneered, “How would you know what I can and can’t do?”

“I’m not saying that you can’t. I’m saying that you won’t. You could have done those things to all of us, dozens of times these last few weeks. You could have murdered us all the first night we took you to camp. But you didn’t. And you won’t.”

“But I could --”

Frustrated, I threw my arms up, “So what if you could? You haven’t. What matters is what you do, not what you could. Actions matter, Quala. And none of your actions lead me to question my clan’s safety.”

She had turned away, arms wrapped around herself as she listened to me speak. With a tentative hand, I grasped her shoulder.

“Actions make you who you are. I could do those same terrible things that you could, you know I could. My ability to destroy doesn’t make me a murderer -- my murders do. And, as far as I know, you’ve lead a good life. Yes, you’re a bit wild, but that’s just one of the many faces you have.

“The way that you shape your destiny, your fate, your actions has nothing to do with who you could be, who you were, or where you come from. It has everything to do with who you are. And, quite frankly, you’re important to the whole clan. I mean, you should hear about the things Gahnenal has to say about your fighting skills.” I saw a blush creep up her neck and mix with the redness of her cheeks. I spun her around so that she faced me, though her head was still hanging. Shaking her slightly, I said, “Quala”.

Grudging every muscle’s contraction, she looked up and peered at me.

“Quala, you are tough. Incredibly tough. Don’t think, not even for a moment, that you’re not worthy to be here. It may not feel like it but we need your brand of toughness. We need you. Forget the shame you carry. We need you now. But the choice is ultimately yours to make.”

“There isn’t a choice to be made.” She looked at me, her face blank and emotionless though spots of red still hovered over her cheeks. “I want a family.”

I smiled at her, “You already have one.”

Quala smiled -- it was like the weight of the world was shifted off of her shoulders and the person hiding under her stony exterior broke free for just a moment. Her smile was so radiant, so joyful that I smiled back like a moron, dazzled by the exposed light.