Lost Athens- What It Means To Be Free

Bishop gave a heavy sigh, glancing over at the spaniel who rested beside him. 'Punishment', the old man had said. What good would punishing the spaniel do? He knew better than anyone that you couldn't force someone to stay alive, and wording it like they were punishing her was only going to make her resent him. The golden dane didn't hae anything against keeping an eye on Sunday, but he wished the Grandfather had been more tactful about it. Gently, he nudged the spaniel.

"Hey, you awake?" He asked softly.

Sunday violently twitched as she slept, scrunching her nose and irritably flexing her toes. Feeling something touch her side, the little spaniel jumped awake with a high-pitched yelp. Her heart beat rapidly until she processed that the presence was Bishop, not the beast in her nightmare. She shook herself lightly and let out a quiet sigh.

"Sorry, any sleep I get is pretty light and... well, active, to say the least."

Sunday let her gaze linger on the golden dane mutt before it fell to the body-warmed patch of grass she'd leapt from in a panic. She slowly returned to her spot next to Bishop, just close enough to be near, but not lean against him.

"So... what'd you want?"

"I don't know." He said slowly. "I've just been thinking, and you know what? Screw the old man. Let's do something fun."

Sunday blinked, a blank stare pointed at Bishop until a small grin quirked her lips. She yawned before replying. "And I thought I was the only one who liked getting on Bull's nerves." The little spaniel stood up and stretched her aching legs. "I was like that too when I first joined. I never liked Bull, in the beginning, I mean. He seems to have chilled out now. Maybe as long as you're with me he won't pitch a fit. What have you... got in mind?"

Sunday realized she might have sounded flirtatious and backed away a step. She may have liked Bishop, but he was still a fresh face she didn't know a terrible lot about. He had a good enough heart to get into the Brotherhood, though, so she kept her stance relaxed.

Bishop gave a small laugh. "Well, Miss Sunny. Or um... whatever you want me to call you. There's probably a nice star-gazing clearing somewhere, or I could catch you something, or we could just take a walk. It's a beautiful night, after all." He gave a friendly smile. He really just wanted the spaniel to feel safe.

Sunday stiffened and arched her back slightly. A thousand unpleasant memories flashed through her mind, causing her eyes to fog up. A lump that instantly formed in her throat made her voice croak. "I-I know you mean well by that, B-Bishop, but I'd rather not. J-just personal preference, you know?"

The little spaniel turned her whole body away and walked forward a few paces to hide the few tears that inevitably escaped. She quickly wiped them away with her paws and breathed deeply to compose herself.

"Hey, hey, its okay, I'm sorry." He spoke softly taking a step back. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

The little spaniel snorted, cocking her head back to Bishop with a half-way smile. "No, no, it's fine. Just some- had a bad dream, you know? Still trying to get over it, that's all."

She padded back over to Bishop and gave a more convincing grin. "Are there any good running places over here, maybe? My hip still feels sore, but stretching it out with a few good strides usually helps." Her eyes were still wet, but the corners resisted turning red.

Bishop inhaled sharply. It was always like this with her, but locking her emotions away wasn't going to help anything.

"Please..." He stopped himself, taking a deep breath. He took a step forward, glancing to the side. "Can I tell you something?" He asked, ears pinned back.

Sunday shrunk, head lowered and legs slightly bent. Her grin fell as she felt her face return to its trained stoic expression. "I guess."

"My mom, well, she never wanted me. Never said so... but I could you know... tell." He shifted his gaze. "She um.... she didn't want any of it." His voice trailed off slowly.

The little spaniel stood up a bit straighter, but kept her body positioned away. Her ears mimicked Bishop's and she gave a small whine. "I'm... sorry about that." She shuffled her paws uncomfortably. "I hope... she still treated you nicely, though. It's hard to hate your kids, I'd suppose."

"That was the thing about her though." He said softly. "She had so much hurt and anger inside of her, and she never let it show" He took a small step closer. "But it didn't do her any favors."

Sunday felt like she was being lectured again, back to when she was barely a year old. Her muscles tightened again as she paused to consider Bishop's words. "I don't know what you're getting at, but I-I'd like you to stop."

"Look, what happened to you was horrible." He said. "No ones denying that. But how long has it been, Sunday? How long have you been festering those feelings? They're not just going to go away if you pretend they're not there."

Sunday stood still, trying to understand if Bishop was on the same page she was and how. She didn't tell him anything- Bull. The golden dane was a member of the pack now and they'd probably discussed her at some point. Her heart hung in her throat and she snarled at the ground.

"Damn Bull. Damn him and... and damn you too! You can't talk to me like this! You have no idea how I feel! I've been doing fine by myself. I don't need to be babysat anymore. It's my life, Bishop. I'll do what I want."

Bishop gritted his teeth. His patience was wearing on him, but he tried to keep his cool. Getting angry back certainly wasn't going to solve the problem.

"I could, if you'll let me." His voice was soft, and it hinted at weariness. "I have a gift, you see. You wouldn't even have to say anything. Is that what you want?"

The little spaniel scowled and bit her tongue. She didn't want to say the first thing to come out of her mouth and hurt the only friend she'd made since Clay happened. Sunday didn't respond for a while, weighing her options in her mind. Bishop wasn't hostile, he'd shown no signs of dominance or overbearing.

Sunday signed and kept her head low. "Just stay where I can see you, okay?"

Bishop gave a small nod, extending his paw forward. "Just touch my paw. That's all you have to do."

Slowly stepping forward, Sunday pressed her nose against Bishop's paw, not quite knowing what she was supposed to expect from doing it.

Bishop took a deep breath, slowly emptying his mind. he closed his eyes, letting her emotions fill him, and letting them swell up inside of him. Everything was tight, like the knots formed in tree trunks. Anger seemed to have wrapped its way around every other feeling; choking them out, suffocating them until it hurt to feel anything pleasant. The only thing that felt natural was anger; even sadness felt wrong. Hatred twisted its way around every feeling and held them captive. But this didn't cause a sense of burning rage or wrath at the heart of it all. Most distinct was a sense of hopelessness.

Bishop inhaled sharply, drawing his paw backwards. He panted softly blinking steadily, keeping an eye on the spaniel as he felt himself return. The spaniel's emotions were so intense, his normal demeanor felt almost alien. Wrong.

"I'm sorry." He panted.

Sunday shook herself lightly to rid herself of a sudden onset of chills, but otherwise felt fine. The young female cocked her head. "For... what? What'd you do anyway?"

"I felt what you feel, its my gift. You can change your smell, and well, I'm empathetic."

Furrowing her brows, Sunday didn't quite know how to react to this revelation. Her first reaction was anger, but she couldn't manifest it. She almost felt... free. But not the escaping from the cave into the light kind of free. More like the removal of teeth from the flesh kind of free. The little spaniel suddenly realized tears were streaming down her face and she quickly trotted to the nearest tree to hide behind it.

"I don't... I... Why are you doing this?" Sunday shouted from behind the trunk. Her eyes heated up again and she pulled every muscle in her face together. "Why can't I do anything by myself?"

"If we were meant to do everything on our own, we'd have been born bears, not dogs." He said softly. "I just want to help, Sunday. That's what friends do."

The little spaniel choked on her sobs, desperately wanting someone to nuzzle her, but at the same time gagging at the idea. She didn't know what to feel anymore and anything she did feel felt wrong.

"What do I do now, then?" She sniffled.

"The best kind of revenge." He said. "You live. Every day you just keep living. You stop letting what happened have power over you. You become stronger than that asshole ever was."

Sunday meditated on the idea of letting what happened have power over her. She thought by taking the initiative in hunting Clay made her have control, but... now it seemed quite the opposite. She let herself slide against the tree to the ground, not minding the bark bits in her fur. She cried as quietly as she could, but the occasional loud hiccup gave her away.

Suddenly, she found herself laughing. Inexplicably and harshly, but truely laughing. At what, she was unsure, but it didn't matter. Whatever was holding her was gone. It hurt like hell, but now it would heal. 

"Thanks... Bishop."