I was embarrassed. I felt exposed, like I had revealed too much of myself, lost control. The jurisdiction of my emotions had just gotten a whole lot more complex, not only by the new emotions that trauma was revealing within me, but also this attunedness, this bond that broadcast them. Fortunately, at least, only others with this attunedness would receive the message, the emotions, the thoughts and whatever else I hadn't yet unlocked in this ability. And I could control it, it was just a new way to have to live, to guard myself. My facial expressions, as a human, were generally schooled to happiness, to friendly openness, and honestly, that was usually how I was genuinely feeling - on the surface.
It was harder, for me, as I slowly learned more about this new aspect of myself, to lock away those deep down emotions - particularly, it would seem, if I wanted to fully embrace the instincts of this form, to remove that delay between human-brain and leopard-brain. I was braced for rejection to come in various ways, for outright outcry, or complete and total ignorance, or mocking, debilitating comments that would wound me deeper than words ever had a right to. And yet I received none of that, instead a gentle pulse of amusement, of gentle humour, of warmth and acceptance. Her copper form brushes up against me, and I lean into it, purring, before finding myself looking up to her very human self, the shift happening swiftly, seamlessly.
Her hands run through my pelt, and it is a curious sensation, one I have never felt before, but find I enjoy immensely - mostly in the knowledge that it is she who is doing it. The purrs only intensify as her emotions mirror my own, excitement buzzing through me, welcoming her touches, both physical and emotional - silently I promised to never push her away, though I knew so little about her, it was safe to say I was crushing hard.
I remain in my leopard form, moving to sit in her lap. Had my human mind still been dominant, I would have found the action awkward, but with this embrace of instincts, the melding of leopard and human minds and souls, I found it only promoted the nearness which I sought from her, nearness that I felt wouldn't yet be achieved if I followed suit and shifted. I looked up at her, holding her gaze as she told me another titbit of her past, accepting it, welcoming it, hoping the emotions that I allowed to populate the bond convey that to her. With my feline senses, I hold her in an entirely new light, seeing parts of her I had missed, finding my attention snagging on scars visible on her hands and neck - I had noticed them before, but had not felt compelled to ask further about them. In this setting, in this moment however, I felt was it right.
'Tell me about your scars.' It was not a demand, merely a gentle request, and I would accept if she wished to keep the stories to herself.
It was harder, for me, as I slowly learned more about this new aspect of myself, to lock away those deep down emotions - particularly, it would seem, if I wanted to fully embrace the instincts of this form, to remove that delay between human-brain and leopard-brain. I was braced for rejection to come in various ways, for outright outcry, or complete and total ignorance, or mocking, debilitating comments that would wound me deeper than words ever had a right to. And yet I received none of that, instead a gentle pulse of amusement, of gentle humour, of warmth and acceptance. Her copper form brushes up against me, and I lean into it, purring, before finding myself looking up to her very human self, the shift happening swiftly, seamlessly.
Her hands run through my pelt, and it is a curious sensation, one I have never felt before, but find I enjoy immensely - mostly in the knowledge that it is she who is doing it. The purrs only intensify as her emotions mirror my own, excitement buzzing through me, welcoming her touches, both physical and emotional - silently I promised to never push her away, though I knew so little about her, it was safe to say I was crushing hard.
I remain in my leopard form, moving to sit in her lap. Had my human mind still been dominant, I would have found the action awkward, but with this embrace of instincts, the melding of leopard and human minds and souls, I found it only promoted the nearness which I sought from her, nearness that I felt wouldn't yet be achieved if I followed suit and shifted. I looked up at her, holding her gaze as she told me another titbit of her past, accepting it, welcoming it, hoping the emotions that I allowed to populate the bond convey that to her. With my feline senses, I hold her in an entirely new light, seeing parts of her I had missed, finding my attention snagging on scars visible on her hands and neck - I had noticed them before, but had not felt compelled to ask further about them. In this setting, in this moment however, I felt was it right.
'Tell me about your scars.' It was not a demand, merely a gentle request, and I would accept if she wished to keep the stories to herself.
Chulane
fridooh & whimzi @ deviantart
