11-20-2011, 05:18 PM
WC: 322
Gemma was scared. Gemma was always scared these days. It was an automatic condition for her in recent weeks. She suffered now although it would never measure up to the torture she had been through. Her fur was still short on her chest and arms from where she had shaved it, the white hair only just covering up pink skin but doing nothing to hide the scars she was covered in, the whip marks, bites, slashes and burns that were silvery and puckered and marred her. The woman felt her shame, hot and heavy as it gripped her throat. She couldn't even hide them from view because she had discarded the green shirt she had used briefly. So she had to bare them, and bare her guilt. Her ears were pulled back and her tail hung lifelessly, everything within her body language spoke of depression and self hatred.
Self consumed as she was that she didn't notice the scent and sound of another nearby to her. The crashing of the waves covered up any rustling and the salty water hid all scent trails not that she was trying at all to be aware of her surroundings. Despite her earlier conclusions that suicide had been her only option it Gemma was too cowardly to end her life via the way of drowning. The amused cackling of her mother still rang in her overly large ears as she explained to her three loved and one hated children the dangers of death by water. Gemma had listened at the edge of Libba's tolerance for her, if the white female had gotten too near she was chased away and if caught then beaten for daring to come too close to her sisters.
Ivory hands twisted together uncomfortably as she stared at the great expanse of blue before her, it was just waiting to swallow her up and drag her down into its murky depths.
Gemma was scared. Gemma was always scared these days. It was an automatic condition for her in recent weeks. She suffered now although it would never measure up to the torture she had been through. Her fur was still short on her chest and arms from where she had shaved it, the white hair only just covering up pink skin but doing nothing to hide the scars she was covered in, the whip marks, bites, slashes and burns that were silvery and puckered and marred her. The woman felt her shame, hot and heavy as it gripped her throat. She couldn't even hide them from view because she had discarded the green shirt she had used briefly. So she had to bare them, and bare her guilt. Her ears were pulled back and her tail hung lifelessly, everything within her body language spoke of depression and self hatred.
Self consumed as she was that she didn't notice the scent and sound of another nearby to her. The crashing of the waves covered up any rustling and the salty water hid all scent trails not that she was trying at all to be aware of her surroundings. Despite her earlier conclusions that suicide had been her only option it Gemma was too cowardly to end her life via the way of drowning. The amused cackling of her mother still rang in her overly large ears as she explained to her three loved and one hated children the dangers of death by water. Gemma had listened at the edge of Libba's tolerance for her, if the white female had gotten too near she was chased away and if caught then beaten for daring to come too close to her sisters.
Ivory hands twisted together uncomfortably as she stared at the great expanse of blue before her, it was just waiting to swallow her up and drag her down into its murky depths.