Orion/Donovan. Silent passage.
Apr. 9th, 2007 11:34 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
actionreactionDay nine of 31_days.
Month after month the full moon made silent passage over the night sky. Sometimes it was clear and shining, accompanied by twinkling stars, clear enough to see traces of the Milky Way itself forming hazy patterns in the sky. Sometimes it was hidden, clouds hiding it from view, think, heavy, obstructing.
It didn’t matter what it was like, Donovan took Hadrian out for a walk nightly, but even more so he felt the need come full moon. He didn’t know why the dog grew so restless then, seemed to need to be outside, nearer the woods, to run and act more like a wolf than a dog. Donovan didn’t leash him; he let him run free. He knew for certain there was no fear of the dog running off, or hurting anyone. He didn’t know how he knew. He just did.
The pull of the moon was something Orion couldn’t shake. In wolf form, the black hound Donovan had named Hadrian, Orion couldn’t resist the cliché lupine behavior of howling at the moon. He always wondered if Donovan would figure him out before he felt it was the time to tell him his true nature. But Donovan had enough worry trying to figure out his own. The other that was in there; Orion could always smell when he came out, rarer though it became over time.
The moon rose high in the night sky and Orion came loping back to Donovan, tongue lolling, expression seeming to read, Let’s go home. There had been neither sight nor smell of the other in days, and Orion hoped, possibly futilely, that that one’s silent passage into darkness would not be as recurring as the moon’s.
Month after month the full moon made silent passage over the night sky. Sometimes it was clear and shining, accompanied by twinkling stars, clear enough to see traces of the Milky Way itself forming hazy patterns in the sky. Sometimes it was hidden, clouds hiding it from view, think, heavy, obstructing.
It didn’t matter what it was like, Donovan took Hadrian out for a walk nightly, but even more so he felt the need come full moon. He didn’t know why the dog grew so restless then, seemed to need to be outside, nearer the woods, to run and act more like a wolf than a dog. Donovan didn’t leash him; he let him run free. He knew for certain there was no fear of the dog running off, or hurting anyone. He didn’t know how he knew. He just did.
The pull of the moon was something Orion couldn’t shake. In wolf form, the black hound Donovan had named Hadrian, Orion couldn’t resist the cliché lupine behavior of howling at the moon. He always wondered if Donovan would figure him out before he felt it was the time to tell him his true nature. But Donovan had enough worry trying to figure out his own. The other that was in there; Orion could always smell when he came out, rarer though it became over time.
The moon rose high in the night sky and Orion came loping back to Donovan, tongue lolling, expression seeming to read, Let’s go home. There had been neither sight nor smell of the other in days, and Orion hoped, possibly futilely, that that one’s silent passage into darkness would not be as recurring as the moon’s.