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animal_quills(Cross-posted from my personal journal after some thought...)
I have to wonder, when Rudyard Kipling wrote those words as part of the lupine Jungle Law, the law that young Mowgli grows to live by while raised by the Mother Wolf Raksha, if he could have known just how accurate he was?
Wolf and pack are one and the same. To be separated from your pack is to be seperated from self. It's almost like... being split from your soul. Losing the core part of your being. It's why wolf-people are stubbornly loyal to those whom they love. If we love you, you are pack. You have become a part of us, a part of our lives, a part of our happiness. We can no more stand to lose you than we can stand to lose one of our limbs. You complete us, inspire us to be better than we currently are, and give us something to -do- with ourselves. On the shitty Monday morning when it's raining outside and our day looks like an awful mess of stress waiting to happen, wolf-people can consider the ones who are in their pack, remember the joys of coming home to them that night, and recognize the happiness found in that reunion. We must leave that we might return. So we get up, we go and do what the world requires of us, and we come home. A home that is found wherever pack may be.
But what of the wolf who has lost her pack? What of the wolf who knows they are out there, tilts her head back to the night sky, cries their names, hears their response, but cannot find them in the flesh? They are there for her as best as they can be, she knows she is not -truly- alone: the night air carries her pack's joyful howls to her when she sends gleeful barks to the chilly air, her pack joins her mournful keen on the evenings she weeps. But the wolf longs to run with her pack, dodging trees in the moonlit woods as she plays with the closest of her kindred spirits. The wolf yearns for the contact of her sister's form, the way the lioness curled protectively around her as they talked for hours beneath the stars, muzzles close as whispers escaped on subjects they dared not share elsewhere. The wolf dreams of her mate's lean body, has flashbacks to how the world drifted away when they lost themselves in each other amidst a tumble of limbs and heat and laughter.
The wolf... feels lost without these things.
There is no stability in night song -- no certainty in phone calls or instant messenger. People are unavailable. Facts and emotions can be hidden when you cannot look into a loved one's eyes. It drives wolf... it drives me, insane.
Honestly right now, I feel like there is no stability anywhere.
1.) My physical home: far from certain. I live in multiple locations. None of which will last beyond the next few years, as I have no desire to remain in Ohio post-graduation, and I have enough trouble maintaining sanity when I visit my Maryland family for a week, let alone a life-time. But this is alright. The location of territory is not so much an issue, so long as the territory has Pack.
But it doesn't. It won't, for at least two and a half years, if not longer.
2.) My life goal: Hell if I know. I picked music because it makes me happiest. Music therapy because I think I might be able to help people, and it gets people off my back about how my chosen career path will lead me to financial ruin. It doesn't mean much to me in the long run, and it's about as certain as something carved in jello. I know myself too well. My interests change. My future will do so as well.
And finally...
3.) My friendships: I don't have anything really significant nearby. My Pack, consisting of my loved ones whom I trust the most, remains small. It consists of my mate, my sister, and a few other people who seem to float in and out of my life. Nevertheless, all are internet-based, long-distance relationships. There is no one nearby to hold me when I need to talk about the most serious aspects of my existence, no one nearby who can know about wolf.
Pack is far away. Pack is separated from me. I feel distant. I feel disconnected from myself. The world is fluid, and I have nothing certain to cling to as so many significant issues come to pass.
Yet wolf survives. Once she would have left this brief exploration of emotions on a sour note but there is survival here. Wolf... focuses. When hunting by oneself, every sense is tuned in to the pursuit of the prey. The rest of the problems to be dealt with just don't matter, because the task at hand becomes vital.
In the human world, I hunt other things. I hunt out the dusty corners of the house and clean them. I hunt out old textbooks and review subjects I've grown rusty with. I hunt out local people with problems, and make it my goal to help them. I hunt, I focus, and I keep my mind too busy to think of the emotional aggravation and lack of Pack. Pack will be with me at some point in the future. When I know of that day, have that stable mark on my calendar to look forward to, then I will release myself from the mundane day-to-day prowl.
In the meantime, my fangs will keep finding the flesh of tasks to be completed. I will not let myself sink into unnecessary anguish over that which cannot be changed.
I have to wonder, when Rudyard Kipling wrote those words as part of the lupine Jungle Law, the law that young Mowgli grows to live by while raised by the Mother Wolf Raksha, if he could have known just how accurate he was?
Wolf and pack are one and the same. To be separated from your pack is to be seperated from self. It's almost like... being split from your soul. Losing the core part of your being. It's why wolf-people are stubbornly loyal to those whom they love. If we love you, you are pack. You have become a part of us, a part of our lives, a part of our happiness. We can no more stand to lose you than we can stand to lose one of our limbs. You complete us, inspire us to be better than we currently are, and give us something to -do- with ourselves. On the shitty Monday morning when it's raining outside and our day looks like an awful mess of stress waiting to happen, wolf-people can consider the ones who are in their pack, remember the joys of coming home to them that night, and recognize the happiness found in that reunion. We must leave that we might return. So we get up, we go and do what the world requires of us, and we come home. A home that is found wherever pack may be.
But what of the wolf who has lost her pack? What of the wolf who knows they are out there, tilts her head back to the night sky, cries their names, hears their response, but cannot find them in the flesh? They are there for her as best as they can be, she knows she is not -truly- alone: the night air carries her pack's joyful howls to her when she sends gleeful barks to the chilly air, her pack joins her mournful keen on the evenings she weeps. But the wolf longs to run with her pack, dodging trees in the moonlit woods as she plays with the closest of her kindred spirits. The wolf yearns for the contact of her sister's form, the way the lioness curled protectively around her as they talked for hours beneath the stars, muzzles close as whispers escaped on subjects they dared not share elsewhere. The wolf dreams of her mate's lean body, has flashbacks to how the world drifted away when they lost themselves in each other amidst a tumble of limbs and heat and laughter.
The wolf... feels lost without these things.
There is no stability in night song -- no certainty in phone calls or instant messenger. People are unavailable. Facts and emotions can be hidden when you cannot look into a loved one's eyes. It drives wolf... it drives me, insane.
Honestly right now, I feel like there is no stability anywhere.
1.) My physical home: far from certain. I live in multiple locations. None of which will last beyond the next few years, as I have no desire to remain in Ohio post-graduation, and I have enough trouble maintaining sanity when I visit my Maryland family for a week, let alone a life-time. But this is alright. The location of territory is not so much an issue, so long as the territory has Pack.
But it doesn't. It won't, for at least two and a half years, if not longer.
2.) My life goal: Hell if I know. I picked music because it makes me happiest. Music therapy because I think I might be able to help people, and it gets people off my back about how my chosen career path will lead me to financial ruin. It doesn't mean much to me in the long run, and it's about as certain as something carved in jello. I know myself too well. My interests change. My future will do so as well.
And finally...
3.) My friendships: I don't have anything really significant nearby. My Pack, consisting of my loved ones whom I trust the most, remains small. It consists of my mate, my sister, and a few other people who seem to float in and out of my life. Nevertheless, all are internet-based, long-distance relationships. There is no one nearby to hold me when I need to talk about the most serious aspects of my existence, no one nearby who can know about wolf.
Pack is far away. Pack is separated from me. I feel distant. I feel disconnected from myself. The world is fluid, and I have nothing certain to cling to as so many significant issues come to pass.
Yet wolf survives. Once she would have left this brief exploration of emotions on a sour note but there is survival here. Wolf... focuses. When hunting by oneself, every sense is tuned in to the pursuit of the prey. The rest of the problems to be dealt with just don't matter, because the task at hand becomes vital.
In the human world, I hunt other things. I hunt out the dusty corners of the house and clean them. I hunt out old textbooks and review subjects I've grown rusty with. I hunt out local people with problems, and make it my goal to help them. I hunt, I focus, and I keep my mind too busy to think of the emotional aggravation and lack of Pack. Pack will be with me at some point in the future. When I know of that day, have that stable mark on my calendar to look forward to, then I will release myself from the mundane day-to-day prowl.
In the meantime, my fangs will keep finding the flesh of tasks to be completed. I will not let myself sink into unnecessary anguish over that which cannot be changed.
