06-04-2009, 10:28 PM
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After Ril’o’s death is good. Going to assume some stuff about that thread in this though.
The image of the bloodied corpse of her friend was still fresh. It was imprinted upon her brain, when she shut her eyes the thick sticky liquid was running scarlet and when she opened them the scene was a back drop to what she really saw before her. Sometimes it was if all her sense had been traumatized. The rich metallic scent, Cwmfen’s voice, the feel of the ground beneath her four paws as she sped away. All of this rushing at her made her sick to her stomach, and already she knew she wouldn’t be home for any sort of burial the pack would have for the male. It didn’t matter, Ril’o probably knew how she felt, or maybe it hadn’t been meant to be.
Adelaida knew that if she needed a shoulder Sankor or Alexey would have obliged, the two of them might be wondering where she had gone now, but she left them far behind. Left the corpse far behind. The masked female just needed to get away. Dahlia had finally become home. Alexey had forgiven her, she had settled in, found a routine of avoiding the other pack mates and only seeing her siblings and Ril’o. Adelaida knew the truth, her father in a particularly foul mood had said it well “One must always wake from a good dream.” Of course he retracted his words when he found his daughter listening, but Adelaida had taken it to heart. Adelaida knew that good dreams were far and few in between and the rest of the time one lived in nightmares.
Adelaida was nearing it again, the woods where she hid so often. The shack she and Alexey had taken shelter in. The same place Sankor had found her half dead only months before. Sooner she’d be in her haven again, ready to shut the world out. Her pace slowed and slowed, her whole body ached from weeping and finally she halted to catch her breath. Perfectly still she took a large swallow of air, and then her nose twitched. It was only a feeling, there was no sound, no scent, but she didn’t think she was alone. She didn’t think that her woods, her woods, were vacant. Like a fearful rabbit she tried to make for her hole in the ground, if she could make it to the shack then all would be well, otherwise the big bad wolf might just gobble her up.
After Ril’o’s death is good. Going to assume some stuff about that thread in this though.
The image of the bloodied corpse of her friend was still fresh. It was imprinted upon her brain, when she shut her eyes the thick sticky liquid was running scarlet and when she opened them the scene was a back drop to what she really saw before her. Sometimes it was if all her sense had been traumatized. The rich metallic scent, Cwmfen’s voice, the feel of the ground beneath her four paws as she sped away. All of this rushing at her made her sick to her stomach, and already she knew she wouldn’t be home for any sort of burial the pack would have for the male. It didn’t matter, Ril’o probably knew how she felt, or maybe it hadn’t been meant to be.
Adelaida knew that if she needed a shoulder Sankor or Alexey would have obliged, the two of them might be wondering where she had gone now, but she left them far behind. Left the corpse far behind. The masked female just needed to get away. Dahlia had finally become home. Alexey had forgiven her, she had settled in, found a routine of avoiding the other pack mates and only seeing her siblings and Ril’o. Adelaida knew the truth, her father in a particularly foul mood had said it well “One must always wake from a good dream.” Of course he retracted his words when he found his daughter listening, but Adelaida had taken it to heart. Adelaida knew that good dreams were far and few in between and the rest of the time one lived in nightmares.
Adelaida was nearing it again, the woods where she hid so often. The shack she and Alexey had taken shelter in. The same place Sankor had found her half dead only months before. Sooner she’d be in her haven again, ready to shut the world out. Her pace slowed and slowed, her whole body ached from weeping and finally she halted to catch her breath. Perfectly still she took a large swallow of air, and then her nose twitched. It was only a feeling, there was no sound, no scent, but she didn’t think she was alone. She didn’t think that her woods, her woods, were vacant. Like a fearful rabbit she tried to make for her hole in the ground, if she could make it to the shack then all would be well, otherwise the big bad wolf might just gobble her up.