The Pup waited in nervous silence as the Naught mused over her, watched her. It laughed, and then It observed her, quiet, considering. It approached, but this time, the Eldritch hound didn't back away. She watched It with caution, but It made no move to attack her. Instead, it reflected her Nature - a twisted, Hungry reflection, a Desire, but a reflection nonetheless. It made Sounds, a cacophony of eerie noises that was as distracted and distant as the nonexistent breeze rustling the rose garden.
When It spoke again, it was to make an offer. It called it a deal, or an exchange, at least. She hadn't expected that, hadn't expected this creature to be the dealing type. But It Knew what she wanted, it could read her Desires; It understood her Curiosity, and It held the satisfaction of that Desire just beyond her reach, tempting her with it, asking something - something that should have been so small, so simple that she shouldn't need to consider - in return.
But she did need to consider. The human part of her heart, the man who had given her that part, knew that secrets could lie in words, that lies could be woven into half-truths as easily as a melody could flow into a Song. It spoke of the Butterflies again, of a woman she knew well, who she trusted as Someone like herself. Greta was kind, and sweet, and warm. He spoke of meeting with the same tone her half-brother Loneliness had asked a woman to come up, come away. A word that meant far more, far worse, than had been let on. After all, Curiosity was not His Nature - any more than Knowledge was her own. He was Hunger, and Eldritch seldom strayed from their natures. But her own nature screamed for the Knowledge, the taunting of His offer not helping her to silence the pure power that was her Eldritchness, but the familiarity with that of which He spoke paining her Humanness to accept.
The wolf-form melted, growing smaller, fur becoming a blanket wrapped around a Child. The Tyke's legs were crossed in front of her, as she sat before the supine Naught, and she was hunched somewhat around a long-necked Instrument, something she'd been Given by a man she wished could be here. Idly she ran her fingers over the strings as she stared, not quite blankly, at the Rose. She needed guidance, she needed help to understand the Words, to find the Lies and the half-Truths. But that Guidance wasn't here. The Man she could ask for that Guidance was beyond her reach, guarding, but far off. There was nowhere else she could truly go for that. She was Alone, and that meant that she was Unsure.
"I... I don't Know." It was a difficult thing to admit, for a Child of Knowledge. Unknowing wasn't against her own Nature, but she felt like it would disappoint her Father. It was Truth, though. She wasn't like the Naught in that sense, at least. Her hands relaxed on the instrument, as she looked up from the Flower, to the Hunger, and then back to the Rose. Her hand, almost reluctantly, began to reach toward the peace offering. "I Know that the offer's very generous, and I Know that You Know much..."
The small hand paused halfway to the rose's stem, then was drawn back, her narrow face betraying her indecision. She rested the hand on the banjo, feeling frustrated with both her humanity and her divinity, but there wasn't much she could say or do that would change either in herself. Neither won, as she decided to quell both, if only momentarily, with a Question.
"May I... May I take some time to consider?"
When It spoke again, it was to make an offer. It called it a deal, or an exchange, at least. She hadn't expected that, hadn't expected this creature to be the dealing type. But It Knew what she wanted, it could read her Desires; It understood her Curiosity, and It held the satisfaction of that Desire just beyond her reach, tempting her with it, asking something - something that should have been so small, so simple that she shouldn't need to consider - in return.
But she did need to consider. The human part of her heart, the man who had given her that part, knew that secrets could lie in words, that lies could be woven into half-truths as easily as a melody could flow into a Song. It spoke of the Butterflies again, of a woman she knew well, who she trusted as Someone like herself. Greta was kind, and sweet, and warm. He spoke of meeting with the same tone her half-brother Loneliness had asked a woman to come up, come away. A word that meant far more, far worse, than had been let on. After all, Curiosity was not His Nature - any more than Knowledge was her own. He was Hunger, and Eldritch seldom strayed from their natures. But her own nature screamed for the Knowledge, the taunting of His offer not helping her to silence the pure power that was her Eldritchness, but the familiarity with that of which He spoke paining her Humanness to accept.
The wolf-form melted, growing smaller, fur becoming a blanket wrapped around a Child. The Tyke's legs were crossed in front of her, as she sat before the supine Naught, and she was hunched somewhat around a long-necked Instrument, something she'd been Given by a man she wished could be here. Idly she ran her fingers over the strings as she stared, not quite blankly, at the Rose. She needed guidance, she needed help to understand the Words, to find the Lies and the half-Truths. But that Guidance wasn't here. The Man she could ask for that Guidance was beyond her reach, guarding, but far off. There was nowhere else she could truly go for that. She was Alone, and that meant that she was Unsure.
"I... I don't Know." It was a difficult thing to admit, for a Child of Knowledge. Unknowing wasn't against her own Nature, but she felt like it would disappoint her Father. It was Truth, though. She wasn't like the Naught in that sense, at least. Her hands relaxed on the instrument, as she looked up from the Flower, to the Hunger, and then back to the Rose. Her hand, almost reluctantly, began to reach toward the peace offering. "I Know that the offer's very generous, and I Know that You Know much..."
The small hand paused halfway to the rose's stem, then was drawn back, her narrow face betraying her indecision. She rested the hand on the banjo, feeling frustrated with both her humanity and her divinity, but there wasn't much she could say or do that would change either in herself. Neither won, as she decided to quell both, if only momentarily, with a Question.
"May I... May I take some time to consider?"