Bewilderment is common amoungst Fauna

Deirdre was balanced in the trees gnarled grasped. Though she was deemed a bird, she was unable to sing. The very idea seemed blasphemous. Caged birds sing for others, but how might one sing for a broken person? It is the cruelest of jokes, that a song to please will decimate. She was unsure of herself because she placed her security in those she loved. But she ran and they ran, and the whole world is running, trampling itself. One would think Deirdre the most self-less sacrificial person breathing. But though she pretended it didn't hurt to lose an organ when a loved one took it with them on a journey from which they may never return....it did. She felt as if she were decomposing, unraveling, unbearably empty, relying only on what she had ingrained in herself years ago. Years ago when life was easy. Regardless, that was no excuse. A terrible vicious current that she allowed her mind to be warped in to in times like these. Nothing made sense, and all the problems she had were too confusing to dwell on. She desperately needed time alone without worrying that she was neglecting someone. As she felt now.

Deirdre started in her repose, the chilled air stroking her face and ruddy brown crackled leaves nudged her skin. Subconsciously, she could feel the guilt of neglect impending. Her most loved, Adelaide, the one who she felt scourged on the inside for not being with constantly was the same one whom Deirdre felt herself doing more harm that good. Idle words. Yes, yes. But when love is idle, what else might the words be?

Always apologizing.

Where did I go? The despair was too heavy on her chest. Where did she go? The past was too devious and unpredictable.

Always apologizing.

For the noise, for the silence, for the....

The misunderstandings.

This gap seemed insurmountable. The walls that were never there now were preconceived electric fences. And the words that were always there now seemed merely offensive.

Always apologizing.

How could Adelaide love such a cynic and a skeptic and dull one? Deirdre could offer her nothing that she lacked. Only more tears. Another faded relationship to weep over. Deirdre hated herself for causing more heartache. Either people were worrying over her or crying over her.

Yes, crying. She could feel the entire tree shake with a sob, she could feel the wet unwanted tears, hear them clouding up her ears. Perhaps the whole world was running, trampling itself, but the whole world was crying, drowning itself while looking, paranoid, for Noah's ark.

Just because I hold you for a little time, does not mean I am your Savior.