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[biteoffherhead]

[One month after her 'victory' against Ninetails, Moro is in much better shape. She isn't roaming close to the village lately, however - any snowfall is remarkably free of her giant pawprints. But for those that venture into the forest, the prints in the snow or dirt are almost always fresh - she has been roaming nearly nonstop since she recovered.

Today, one may find Moro comfortably perched near the lake, looking over the wildlife that came to the water. There's been no effort to hide herself, despite her smell of old, caked blood still a bit fresh from the shoulder wound that Ninetails had inflicted, and the numerous other scars. She was still a bit tender, after all, and those were vulnerable spots. But, as is her way, she's stubborn and confident to the end.

And honestly, for those who want to talk to her, she's looking very content and very peaceful. She'll probably be willing to have a civil conversation! (Gasp!)]

Comments

[biteoffherhead]

I would doubt it. Such a land would be so drained of life and cursed by the Forest Spirit's rage that I truly doubt that anything would grow.

[goldenglasses]

But there is still hope.

[biteoffherhead]

For my daughter... perhaps my sons... perhaps even that boy, Ashitaka. But not for me.

This place drew me from the comfort of death. I should be dead, as I was.

[goldenglasses]

I'm sorry... but at least there's still hope for your family. [And he is really sorry. He hates hearing of death.]

[biteoffherhead]

...I have long known our fate. Since the very day the humans turned their swords against us, I knew that we would either slaughter all of them and return to a feral life, or we would all die, leaving humans to poison the earth.

My poor daughter... she is a wolf, despite her human body. She cannot return to them, no matter how that boy pleas for it. Neither human, nor wolf... once the wolves die, she will be forever on her own.

[She sulks, growling bitterly.]

Even that boy could not save her from that fate, even if he may save her from others...

[goldenglasses]

But maybe he still can. The ticket to the future is always blank. You never know where it will take you. Maybe someday there will be a place where your daughter will belong.

[biteoffherhead]

...What a curse I have placed on my daughter.

[goldenglasses]

You weren't listening were you...

[biteoffherhead]

How could he help her?

[goldenglasses]

Maybe by helping to shape a world that is more accepting of those in-between.

[biteoffherhead]

[A snort.]

[goldenglasses]

But isn't that what's so exciting about the future - never knowing what it might bring? Why can't it bring something good?

[biteoffherhead]

Is that truly realistic? Or blind, wishful thinking?

[goldenglasses]

Why can't it be realistic? I think it can.

[biteoffherhead]

I do wish I could believe in such a thing.

[goldenglasses]

You could. No one knows what will happen in the future after all, so why can't it be a good one?

[biteoffherhead]

But will it be a good one?

[goldenglasses]

As long as someone is trying to work for a good one? Then yes. [Yes. He REALLY means this.]

[biteoffherhead]

Until they are overpowered by those undoing it.

[goldenglasses]

Or they get them to change their mind.

[biteoffherhead]

As stubborn as humans are?

[goldenglasses]

Humans can surprise you.

[biteoffherhead]

As surprised as the boar god Nago was when they first shot him with their rifles. So surprised that the rage turned him into a demon.

[goldenglasses]

They can surprise you in good ways too! [But now that you're bringing up guns and bullets.]

...and what about the bullet you said is inside of you? I'm it could be removed if you gave me or even Chopper the chance to take it out. If you leave it in, it could make you sicker.

[biteoffherhead]

That woman left that bullet in me. It did lead me to my death, in my world. It rattled my bones and drained my strength, leaving me barely able to lift my head.

And when I arrived here... the Malnosso had twisted it so deep inside my chest that it cannot be removed!

[It probably could, but it would take some seriously intense surgery to do it.]

But the poison of the bullet has not brought illness upon me. I wonder, at times, if her bullet was exchanged.