writing_shadows

It was quiet here. Peaceful, serene, and calm. He liked it, it made a nice change from the usual hustle and bustle that he found himself wrapped up in. There was always something, if it wasn't something to do with the pub, it was patrolling the territory, or the Hisil, or planning the next attack, or arguing with people. Which he seemed to be doing more and more as time went on.

He was glad he'd made the decision to go and speak to Sheena. She had given him some good advice, it was the sort of thing that he already knew, but hearing it from someone else made it more real, more valid. It also helped to hear it from someone not in the Pack. It's not that he didn't believe it when the Pack said it, it was more that he didn't ask, or want to hear it. The Prof and Johnny could be so superior and sanctimonious when it came to dishing out the condescending advice and that just got his back up and it didn't help matters.

He hadn't agreed with everything she had said and she knew it, but that didn't actually matter. She'd said more or less exactly the same sort of thing as the Prof and Johnny, just differently. He'd taken some of her advice though, which was why he was here, lying on the cold grass, staring at the cloud filled sky and just chilling out having gotten Dave to man the pub for the afternoon. He felt calm for the first time in a long time, despite what had happened recently. Even before the Change he always felt like something was bubbling away inside him and it was still there, but he felt calm. Whatever it was that she had done was still working at least.

One of the big benefits of this was that he got a chance to think about things for a change. He'd been thinking about all the Highborn he had killed, how easy it had been to become a simple murderer. He thought about Lizzie and her passing away, about the huge hole that her demise had left in him. He thought about the letter she had sent him and the message she sent. He thought about Mac and what he had died for. He thought about the Oath of the Moon, the Litany of the Pure, his Oath to Spectral Wolf.

When he actually thought about it properly, the only one that was worth anything was the Oath he'd made to the Cwn Annwn. Both the Oath of the Moon and the Litany of Pure were actually just great big steaming piles of excrement. The Oath of the Moon says this, the Litany of the Pure says that, stop doing that, do this instead but what it all boiled down to was two different sets of guidelines that both the Forsaken and the Highborn choose to ignore when it suited them.

Most people complained when Jack and others killed the Pure, harping on about the People don't kill the People. Well, the Highborn weren't the People and anyway, that was only in there because it eroded your Balance and thats what people were actually pissing themselves about. How many of them had a cry when the Low didn't Honour the High, or the High didn't Honour the Low? Or how about when two werewolves got jiggy with it together. They didn't care that the Oath of the Moon had been broken, they had a spaz because it eroded your Balance and there was the chance of something pretty mental being birthed as a result of it. How many of them actually cared when the Herd found out about stuff? Not many, and those that did seemed only to be pissed at the fact they had to go cover it up, which invariably involved killing people. And the rest of it was just as bad.

He could recite the Oath that the Highborn lived by without even thinking about it, the words scarred into his brain as solidly as any of the scars running the length of the back his body. That was just as big a waste of time and thought as the Oath of the Moon.

At the end of the day he knew what he should and shouldn't do, it was intrinsic to his nature by all accounts. And that was before you started applying obsolete human morality to things and his promise to the White Wolf and it's Pack.