Never Too Late

(Mood Post for one of my characters whilst being at work.)

It's funny, when I think about it. Well, not so much.. funny. I think to myself, if I had an inkling of where I would be, what I was doing, who I was with, and how I felt about people and others in large.. I'd have laughed. I'd honestly have laughed.

I wanted it.. so many times to end. I became rage. I became everything I in the end hated.

But I didn't care either. In the end, there was something in me that wanted to live. To survive.

I see a little shift of movement under the bedcover. I can't put to words how beautiful she looked, those days ago. All that violence, all that death, but this time?

.. This time it was a cause worth fighting for. Not simply.. not simply for survival. But for innocence that was marred by hatreds, prejuidices. Part of it.. I suppose, was also my own indignation I felt with what Augustin said when it came to what he deemed feral dragons. It hit far too close to what set loose the twelve young men that broke me and took away everything I had that night.

Beings without a voice.. beings without those to stand up for them.. ..once, I suppose, like them, it was too late for them. Or for me, for that matter..

But it's never too late.

They're resting well now. The dragons.. the hatchlings.. ..I've not felt this alive, this.. joy I've only experienced once before.. ..well, twice, I suppose. Hearing that word of 'yes' cinched it pretty good..

But there's still work to be done here. Always work to be done.. but my eyes are open now. What I am.. my happiness.. everything is for her. For them.