will graham (willgrahams) wrote in the100, @ 2015-09-01 22:35:00 |
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"If you do not let me be in the midst of this, you aren't going to like it."
This was Will Graham's grave pronouncement to his fellow before he placed a hatchet across his shoulder and strode into the woods. Trees and brush lay in tangles, except where the cleaning crews had re-fashioned the melee into manageable piles. Order had been created from the chaos of battle - the chaos of merely intending to survive - and before he could stop himself, he felt his own gaze shuttering.
The forest lay clear and upon either side, there stood lines of people. His new comrades standing staunch in one place, their new-bred enemies snarling and growling at another. When, at last, the tension broke and the lines surged at one another he could feel himself take several deep draughts of air. Blood he knew, violence he understood all too well. It was the waiting that stung him.
There, a smoky hued wolf with its ruff standing on end aimed its fangs at a girl whose shoulder was encased with armor. The teeth screamed along the metal, and he could taste the rage within the lupine body. The will to thrive brought it rearing back on its hind legs, just in enough time for the girl to sink a spear in through its flank. Will sank to his knees, blood gurgling between his ribs. The fight was not yet over, however, for when the girl stood the spear had been snapped by gnashing teeth. Finally, as she turned to bring her attention to another buff colored hide who had been part of the pack, the smoky wolf sank to the forest floor and rattled out its final sigh.
And he was there; watching the maples swirl in the moonlight, blood black on his face and bubbling at his lips as he licked his snout and let the noise of the battle flicker. Will was the wolf. And when the wolf was no more, Will took a breath.
There, again, was the tree. There, again, the weight of the hatchet upon his shoulder. To look at the mess made all the pieces begin to soldier into place. But to simply focus on the tree, upon the task at hand, meant that he could stay. He could live within the present. He could move this tree, feel this ache in his muscle. Help his comrades. He could live fully within a day's work to quiet his unruly mind.