Taking A Life



Date: 9/22/10 (IC: Later that same afternoon as A Knife's Edge)
Location: A river in the countryside of Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: Bo gives up.
Rating: PG
Vignette Writer: Bowen

This. This right here. This was the way life should be. This was the life.

Bowen continued to lounge against the boulder that was settled in one of the bends of the river. From this vantage point, Bo was able to take in the glorious pallet of colors and the faint beginning of stars against the darkening sky at sunset, as well as the sprawling countryside around him, the whisper of a breeze through the treetops, and the only thing babbling was the water in and out of the eddies of the river here. Definitely not a single woman in sight doing that babbling. Even Strider, tethered loosely to a nearby tree, was quiet.

But, Bo had to admit, while it was definitely nice and quiet out here away from the weyr; it was also lonely. Bo had never really been the sort of man who disliked being alone when the situation warranted it, but neither did he particularly like being away from the companionship found in civilization for very long, either.

He watched a leaf pass him, floating in the river, how the current of the water was so forceful, turning it this way and that, nearly pulling it under at one point, and getting it all turned around and confused until it ended up hung up on a rock. Bo frowned at it.

What’s a man to do? He seemed doomed no matter what he said or did. Nothing ever came out right. Why talk at all? Why bother? He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the rock, pillowed only by his fingers as they laced together behind his head. His hat rested on his knee.

He exhaled and knew why. Because he was trying to rebuild his life again, build a new life here at Eastern Weyr, and he couldn’t do it alone. He had to have friends, both male and female. Weyrs are not Holds, he reminded himself. They had a whole different set of rules and roles and how to act. About the only thing similar was the Headwoman position.

Thinking of Indira reminded him of her words: Why is it that men have this absolute need to possess a woman, hmm? and his whole body sagged with the weight of them. He was such an idiot. Darla, possessing her, or trying to, and look where it got him. It didn’t matter that it was out of a sense of responsibility. He had been such a stupid boy.

The image of what was left of her rotting carcass after the felines got to her sprang from the darkest depths of his memory. He did that. He forced her to that end. Something lurched to a sharp, shuddering stop in his chest and he struggled to catch his breath a moment, waiting until the aching tightness eased away.

Let them come and badger and nag him to death, then. Let them smother any dreams he might have had of starting over. Let them take his life as he had taken hers just as surely as if he had been the felines themselves.

He deserved it. He deserved worse.

Such a stupid, stupid boy.

Closing Credits Theme Music: Keith Urban - "Stupid Boy"

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