Shades Of Morality

" Voices"

We talked for hours more, long into the night. And with the wendigos constant attempts to break the walls it was no surprise that neither of us was eager for sleep.

The topics of our conversations would vary wildly, from things as inconsequential as wether or not we had ever been snow machining (which I had, an old ghost who happened to be a snow machine nut's final request was that I take his old snow machine down the face of a mountain, damn near broke my neck) To more personal questions about our family lives.

We had turned it into a sort of game between the two of us, answering a personal question would get you a point, which you could cash in to get any question you asked answered.

Blair had been fascinated in my literal ghost stories andI racked up quite a few points answering those. I decided to cash them in and ask her quite a few questions about her family.

I found out that she has a younger brother (by three years) and another little brother and a sister, fraternal twins (ages seven) her younger brother was laid back, well at least in comparison to her high strung personality.

And apparently the twins were little terrors around the castle, there wasn't a wolf in the pack who hadn't been terrorized by their pranks. She talked about her father, how he was a strong but kind ruler, always ready with a smile and a hug whenever he greeted her. As she talked about her father her face had warmed, her smile brightened. I could tell without even looking at her aura that she loved him deeply.

She talked of her mother as well. of her beauty and poise, of her cold and demanding nature. As she talked of her mother her face fell into that neutral full mask of hers, her dark blue eyes cold as glacier ice. She didn't go to into very many specifics about her mother. Her back had stiffened and she had drawn her shoulders back. falling into a perfect straight posture by reflex.

I could practically taste the tension coming off her.

For some reason then, (looking back on it I've never been sure why) I flipped back the slightest filter on my senses, revealing her aura to me.

I had seen the vast forest that was her aura being swept with tempests of rage, I'd seen it frozen over with terror for her pack. But now.... now I wasn't even sure what the hell I was seeing.

There were dozens of swirling emotions crashing through that forest. I saw gusts of frustrated rage, I saw frozen little patches of fear, tree shaking in anxiety, animals wandering stumbling, lonely.

It was all of that and more mashed up in the one giant, confusing ball.

Christ! Someone had some serious mommy issues.

I decided that I'd steer my questions away from family for now.

I asked her what the land around the castle was like, if there were any towns, or cities. I asked about other werewolf packs, like if there were any others in Germany. turns out Germany has a lot of werewolves.

I told her a little of my foster parents, I couldn't bring myself to call them family.
I told her much more of my real family. Of Rogers kindness, and of his endless curiosity. Of his unbending morals, which I so desperately wish to imitate.

Of Agatha the old ghost of library, and her love of books only matched by her love of getting other to read. I talked of a more recent member, Larry. Of his endless desire to explore. His determination to learn English. I talked of many of my ghostly friends and family. There was one ghost I couldn't bring myself to mention, I couldn't even bear to think of her.