Chapter 5
Grimm hadn't moved. The white walls felt as if they were closing in around him, making it hard to breathe.
Not that he needed to breathe.
"Old habits die hard," He panted, another pithy little saying from the humans on his former assignment. No matter the species, the level of sapience, or the way a particular creation evolved, no one did cliché like humans.
It was their singular, and greatest gift or curse throughout existence.
The Volarions had better puns, though, or so he had heard in the water cooler talk during training.
"Those familiarization and socialization programs really work," he boggled. There had been a time when his thinking was primarily confined to instinct, given to the impulse and need of the moment. The sun came up, the sun went down, and Grimm was simply Grimm.
Then came sapience, and with sapience, education, and a deeper understanding of the impact of his actions. Bare metal aspects of his nature still shone through, having been given greater definition through the abstract nature of language itself.
Words had been the most profound revelation. It was like howling, barking, and sniffing taken to a higher and more artful level.
A spark of wonder drifted across his anxious heart like lightning in a forest. What would it have been like for Riley to suddenly find the world so much bigger?
Hares were not near as social or as vocal as wolves, but that did not make her lesser.
In many ways, she had been greater than him.
The past danced through his memory, while the future loomed like a threat before him, as grim resolve froze over the ice of his guilt.
He would never let a divide between duty and pack keep him passive ever again.
If only he had gone with her, if only he hadn't waited... Maybe then they could have held out long enough for Alaric to arrive.
Maybe... The word itself was a chasm, yawning out beyond the edges of any universe, the possibility of what could have been but wasn't, clearly delineating his failure.
Please clear the room... It rose in his mind like a sensation, more than words themselves, speaking on similar levels to instinct, forcing Grimm to tense.
It was a busy multiverse, after all, and this was just one small section, teeming with trillions upon trillions of dramas, big and small, playing out second to second.
"Let's get this done," he sighed, picking a better spot, a transitory space, floating in the astral where he wouldn't be bothered, where he'd have more time.
He had been the impetus for that particular spot's creation, after all.
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Reality warped and distorted around Grimm and the hare yet again, only to resolve in a beautiful pine forest.
Trees were thick, tracing up a rise in the land, covering a small squat mountain behind him; before him was a large and grassy meadow. A stream bisected it, providing counter point to the short prairie grasses, granting a bit of drama to the space.
Grimm took a deep, unnecessary but necessary breath and let the cool morning air with its thousands of scents fill his muzzle.
This is where he had first appeared the last time he died.
Every spirit had a "home" like this, a landing point created by a quirk of the astral. It was as much an expression of memory as hope, defined by the deeds and aspirations of a life. Within the constituent worlds of creation was an infinity of space, which meant there was an infinity of spaces to be.
"Hello Grimm," The sound of wings heralded the arrival of a grey winged celestial with chiseled Chinese features. His hair was close cropped in a flat top style, and his eyes intense as he regarded the wolf, a wide and cheesy grin spread across his face as a counterpart to the gravitas of his appearance.
"Hello," Grimm replied, already liking this archangel more than Alaric.
It wasn't a high bar to cross.
"Dude... You're wicked chill... Got this broody wolf vibe. I totally dig it, but this space, man, way to visualize! I'm Fengee, by the way, your new partner in bad assitude. Together, we're gonna do a lot of good, my furry friend!" He held up his thumb and pinky finger, all the while curling in the rest of his fingers in between before rocking his hand back and forth.
"Grimm, as you know, and thank you, " he bowed his head in respect.
"So formal, so reserved...but there's something fierce lurking behind those eyes. They set you as a watcher, mondo bad call man. What was Weaver Central thinking?" Fengee scoffed as Grimm cocked his head the other way.
Try as he might, he couldn't hold off a halting wag from his tail.
"Taking that I ended up in a position you feel is more appropriate to my nature, it seems they planned correctly," Grimm replied as his gaze turned from the Arcangel to the still sleeping hare.
She stirred but remained asleep; no doubt the spell would be wearing off soon.
"I can dig it. Yeah, those kooky cats really get up to something with their yarn. Dude, do you think some actually might be cats? Huh... they're often calculating," Fengee rubbed at his chin, "Nah, can't get too stereotypical; that's how they get ya!"
"Thank you for meeting me here. I wasn't sure if this was the right move or not. "Drop them in the Astral" is a little broad, so I thought I'd come here first. It helped me in my transition after my death. It is my hope it will help her wherever she is to go next," Grimm explained.
"Trusting your instincts. Total guardian move. Way to rock it out the gate, but it's more than that... Am I right, my man? You're hurting," Fengee, surf lingo and all, had just pinned him to a proverbial tree.
"I feel I could have done more for her, but Alaric, and duty got between me and my packmate. Never again," Grimm summarized.
"Lesson number one," Fengee held up his hand. "All things have a beginning and an end. This moment was fated when Riley and Willa made their choice. Orlag events are choices that set the direction of the weaving. It's where free will and destiny come into balance. It taught you something though, didn't it?"
The archangel's eyes sparkled as Grimm's eyes widened, and his ears went flat.
"But she's gone," Grimm countered, looking down at the sleeping hare.
"Nah. My dude, you aren't the same wolf that died all those years ago, and Riley, if that's the name she rocks, won't be the same hare. The ending is the illusion; the congruence of change is the hidden truth."
"Heavy," Grimm intoned, his heart feeling lighter, pushing him towards play.
"Cha, Wicked heavy. Lesson two, the past is either an anchor or a good morning wind. One will sink you; the other will let you fly," Fengee stretched out his massive wings in emphasis as a small noise rose out of the sleeping lagomorph like the break of dawn.
"Thank you for everything," Grimm said.
"Oh, it would have been a total chode move to leave you hangin. Between you, me, and that tree over there, Alaric is kind of a prick," he laughed conspiratorially as Grimm's tail broke into full wag.
The hare twitched, and her ears rose like twin towers.
"So, keep an eye on her, but let her make her own mistakes. You'll know when to get involved. You've got a good brain and a better heart." He patted Grimm between the ears. "And if you need me, don't be afraid to reach out, wolf dude, but I gotta go. Catch Ya later!" With that, Fengee vanished, as the hare's eyes snapped open.