A first step to kindness

The sky was heavy with low, gray clouds as Mute trudged through the frozen brush of snowed-over forestland, her breath leaving fading trails in the chill air. The sound of snow crunching beneath her clawed feet was swallowed by the icy wind whistling across the tundra. Mute’s dull red eyes scanned the white world, but today she wasn’t hunting or seeking victims. With her mind preoccupied, her jaws clamped tightly around an odd assortment of items usually no use to her: frozen berries, dried yet green grasses, and a lump of deep frozen tree sap.

She isn’t one for sentiment or deep soft feelings, but the biting cold and barren landscapes have left her alone with her thoughts. May it be the change of climate on the isles or the lacking comfort of sleeping beneath the trees as one would during warmer seasons, something has her mind churning and her body feeling restless. It’s time to do something about those chittering demons gnawing at the back of her mind.

The wind howled as Mute climbed a shallow incline, her powerful legs pushing through the drifts. She was known far and wide as a bully, a tyrant who terrorized other dinosaurs for sport and chased herds from their shelter just because she could. Yet, as she lumbered toward a narrow gully where she knew a herd of styracosaurus often stayed or passed by, there was no hiss, no delight, no malice for what she intended to do here.

It had been weeks since Mute last came face to face with these herbivores. She’d driven them from this very gully with snarls and snapping teeth, taking the space for herself, even though she didn’t need it for long, many times as if it were nothing but a game. It was no hunt, but merely a thing she enjoyed. The thought of their frightened cries lingered and in an odd sense she found satisfaction in the memory and her self-indulged victory. Today, though, she thought to do something different as the memories have gained a bitter taste and left her in a sour mood.

As Mute approached the gully, she saw the styracosaurs huddled together against the cold winter wind. Their bodies bundled together, forming a protective circle around those that lacked the feather coat or mass to keep warm themselves. Those that formed the outer rim of the clutter noticed her first. Their eyes widened the moment they spotted her shape in the snow, and several crested heads perked up, ready to run or fight this sole carnivore. Mute stopped several paces away, lowering her head in an odd motion of hesitation. Today she wasn’t the menace she’s known as, the matriarch she claimed to be every other day.

As the two parties stared each other down, several recognising Mute and Mute recognising one or the other styraco who fought well. Slowly, in one smooth movement, she dropped the large bundle of dried grasses onto the snow and turned tail. She wasn’t one for emotional speeches or thought out apologies. All feelings she does not need to mess with.

The styracos watched her leave, perplexed, flabbergasted. Mute didn’t look back, circle around, nor called for her henchmen to take over as they expected. She just left. After a dragging moment of silence and suspense, a dark-coated adult stepped forward. Riker sniffed at the grasses cautiously before letting out a thoughtful grunt. The tension in the herd eased slightly, and some joined to investigate the little gift left behind. At first gossip started, wondering whether the grasses were poisoned, but once Riker, bold as he is, tried some of it first, it was truly nothing but a gift. An apology? Looking through the snowdrifts where the notorious predator disappeared, one could only wonder, if such a terror was capable of such.

The gully disappeared behind her as Mute made her way to her next target. She paced toward the edge of the forest, the sharp wind tugged at her dense feather coat and the snow swirling around her dark legs. The forest loomed ahead, its trees stark and bare against the winter landscape. Mute had no intention of lingering here, she had raided this area and chased away the smaller animals that depended on it a while back. But she is looking for someone who still remains. She’s certain she can still find him here.

A faint rustling reached her ears as she entered the treeline, and Mute paused, lowering her head to peer through the undergrowth. Sure enough, she spotted a monochrome cryo, only the reds in his eyes and vibrant markings on his front limbs giving his appearance a splash of colour. Awfully thin and unprepared for the winter, it didn’t surprise Mute as she watched him shuffle and dig the snow for scraps or anything edible.

A short sound left her, a scoff or amused exhale. That a predator struggles so much at being a predator baffles her, but she stops herself from falling into her old habits. Especially now that Raze snapped his head in her direction and locked eyes. Horrified.

He attempts to play it cool with a “H-hello, Mute.” but he couldn't suppress the tremble in his voice- or the whole of his body. He knew what those teeth and claws of the larger female cryo were capable of, he bears scars to prove it. He’s glad enough she hasn’t been harsher to him or he had convenient allies to guard him whenever she lost her cool. But now they stood face to face, and he was all on his own. “Sorry, I have nothing for you to- take.”

For a moment Mute looked irritated. In an uncharacteristic pause and moment of thought, she dismissed the idea of indulging in a chat with him. Memories of his panicked cries and plead echoed in her mind as she carefully placed the lump of sap and berries on the ground. Both were amber-colored and shiny, rare treats in the barren winter especially so fresh as this. Mute nudged it forward with her snout, only meeting his terrified, then rather confused eyes for a brief moment, before retreating into the brush of the forest. Again, leaving without a single explanation or reassuring word. It just wasn’t her style.

Raze remained frozen, his terrified eyes locked on the space where Mute disappeared into the underbrush, before nervously glancing at the strange offering. What just happened?

“Uhm,” he started to voice into the trees. “Thank you?”

“You know, I… I always thought you were incapable of kindness. You’ve been a monster to so many people I doubted you could feel things like regret or remorse,” Raze wasn’t even sure if voicing his thoughts would reach her still or was a smart thing to do. He’s always been more of a wielder of words than his claws. “I hope… No, I am glad you proved me wrong.”

Mute wanted to leave before he could start his monologue, but now she stood still patiently, watching him search for a glimpse of her to aim his word at. After a moment, after more words of surprise and oddly reassuring and hopeful phrases, she forced herself to shake away from listening in. Raze didn’t even sniff the gifts left for him, and rathered to respond to her actions with throwing words into the icy wind. He was just so strange.

Deciding she lingered far longer than intended, she tore her head away from the weaker cryo. She turned away and moved deeper into the forest, the sound of hopeful questions left unanswered fading behind her.

Mute had made a sport of chasing the weaker, snapping at them and scattering them for her own amusement. Predator, prey or her own kin, it never mattered before.

As she made her way back towards her own shelter, she couldn’t hold in a chuckle at the ridiculous mission she just finished. She really just went out and gave little ‘apology gifts’ to dinos she doesn’t even care for. So she claims.

“I’ve done things I’m not proud of. Things I’d like to make right,” are strings of words she would have denied and never muttered in her life before. But now she found herself entertaining the sentences in her mind for a moment, too prideful to mutter them out loud, and a faint smile involuntarily tugged at her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt lighter.

She knew her actions couldn’t erase the harm she had done, nor would they make others forget the fear she had caused. That was the purpose of it all, to be feared and respected, and it would be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy what she does. What made her uneasy and fear that karma would catch up to her eventually was still a mystery to her, but the longer she ignored the feeling, the heavier her mind weighed her down. Guilt, regret, or a hurting piece of her craving for kindness- whatever it was that bugged her, perhaps there was a chance for balance.

For now, she would keep trying to achieve that balance. Once in a while. And that, she decided, was enough.

(1536 words according to Google Docs)