Conversations between a wolf and a deer

-I knew I'd find you here.

-The birds stopped singing. It's too quiet now. I can hear you watching me.

-What?

-The birds stopped singing.

-Is it my fault?

-Maybe. What happened to your face?

-What's wrong with my face?

-You have the eyes of a predator.

-No I don't.

-Yes you do. Whose eyes are you wearing?

-My own.

-Those aren't your eyes. I know what your eyes look like too well. Whose eyes are you wearing?

-What do my eyes look like?

-What?

-You said you know my eyes well.

-Too well.

-Yes. What do they look like?

-You don't know?

-You seem to know better.

-I probably do.

-Tell me then. Please.

-Your eyes have a natural melancholy. Even when you're happy, your eyes are sorrowful. Always glossy, like a tear is waiting to form. Sometimes it does, for no reason. You don't think others notice, and they don't. But I do.

-My eyes are sensitive.

-Your heart is sensitive. The eyes that you're wearing now are dry. Devoid of sadness, but nothing else is there either. These eyes are empty. Like a fire used to burn there, but it has long been extinguished. Perhaps that's why you scared the birds.

-You said they look like a predator’s. Aren't a predator's eyes supposed to be burning with anger?

-A predator doesn't have anger, only instinct. That's what makes it dangerous. Merciless. Anger shows the presence of emotion, and any emotion can easily become another. Fear can become excitement, happiness can become pensiveness, anger can become pity. But an instinct will always be an instinct. There's no place for empathy in survival.

-You think I'm emotionless?

-I can't tell. Are you?

-I'm not. You of all people should know that.

-I don't recognise you.

-You're not looking at me.

-I'm scared to. Why are you here?

-To talk to you.

-No, you're not.

-I am.

-Then talk.

-I forgot what I wanted to tell you.

-Then it wasn't important.

-Everything is important.

-Everything except this.

-Especially this.

-Then say it.

-I can't.

-You remembered?

-I never forgot. I'm sorry.

-Don't be.

-I lied.

-You always do. It's okay.

-Can I say it now?

-Can you?

-I don't know.

-Can you?

-I will miss you.

-You're lying again.

-Not for this.

-Is that all?

-Yes.

-Then do what you came here to do.

-Can I kiss you first?

-Would you kiss a deer before biting its throat?

-You're not a deer.

-You'll bite my throat nonetheless.

-Did my eyes tell you that?

-They did.

-They talk too much, I should carve them out.

-You already did. There are black holes where your eyes used to be. There's nothing there anymore, not even instinct. Just endless pools of darkness.

-You're cruel.

-You're the one holding the knife.

-I didn't know I was holding it. Did you put it into my arm?

-Wouldn't you see me?

-I can't see, remember? I have no eyes.

-Neither do I.

-How did you see the knife then?

-I didn't.

-Then how did you know I was holding it?

-You stabbed me with it.

-Why is your blood cold? Isn't blood supposed to be warm?

-There's nothing warm inside me anymore. You killed me.

-You’re not dead. Not yet.

-Then why is my blood cold?

-I don't know. I can't feel it anymore. Where did it go?

-It's where your eyes were. Your eyes are red now. Crimson lakes of cold blood. Can you see me now?

-Yes. You're beautiful.

-Even without my eyes?

-Your eyes are there. Can you see me?

-Yes. You're beautiful too. Your eyes are back.

-Which pair? The sad one?

-Yes. The right one.

-Good. Are you still scared of me?

-No. You killed me already. There's nothing left that you can do to me.

-I can kiss you.

-Can you?

-Yes. Now that my eyes are back, I can find my way to your lips. Do you want me to kiss you?

-I don't know what I want. What if you kill me again?

-I won't. I will only kiss you.

-Small difference. Only two letters. It's the same reason I don't trust your lips. They're too close to your teeth.

-So are yours.

-Yes. But I won't bite you.

-Why not?

-I can't. I'm not here.

-Where are you?

-I'm not sure. But it's pretty. I wish you were here.

-If you're not here, how am I looking at you?

-I am here, but I'm not. It's funny how these things work. You can see me, but I can't see you. You can talk to me, but I can't talk back.

-But, I can see you seeing me. I can hear you talking to me. You are here.

-Of course i am.

-Good. I will kiss you now.

-You can kiss me, but I won't kiss you back.

-There's no point then.

-I'm sorry to disappoint you. What are those white dots in the air?

-Snow. You've never seen snow before?

-I have. But it's been years since then. Or is it days? I don't remember. I don't recognise it, and it certainly doesn't recognise me anymore. We'll learn eachother again soon. It will cover me like a soft blanket and I will sleep protected under it. I will be nothing more than a small meaningless bump in the endless white.

-You can't sleep under the snow.

-Why?

-You'll get cold.

-I don't mind it.

-You will die.

-If it makes you feel better, you can sleep on top of me to warm me. But I don't think I'll feel you. I hope I do, but I won't.

-I promise to keep you warm.

-You've already broken your promise.

-How?

-You're the reason I'm cold now.

-Come close, I'll warm you. I'll press my warm body on yours and you won't be cold anymore. I'm sorry.

-I can't come any closer.

-Why not?

-I am already as close as I can be. I'm next to you, I'm stuck in your teeth, I'm under your nails and soon I'll be inside your stomach and your head and your heart. I'm a part of you. You and I will be one and the same, always together as we wanted to be.

-What? I don't understand.

-Open your eyes. Look at me.

-I am looking at you.

-You're not. Not actually.

-Did I do something wrong?

-You did what you were supposed to do. -What you had to do. That's how it's always been. Prey and predator. Loser and winner. Dead and alive. All part of nature. Don't be sorry. It was inevitable. It was either you or me. And I'm glad it's me. Goodbye. I'll miss being your friend.

-Don't go. Where are you going?

-

-What have I done?