09-12-2009, 04:52 AM
Word Count: 563
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Her increasingly heavier body moved across the land on its own accord. She walked not elegantly nor slenderly; her growing bulk made it harder for her to walk as freely as she was used to. How long hadn't she prayed for this, and now she knew no other feeling but desperation at the thought of it. It was like being marked for death, but you were the only one who knew. Hanna had agreed to come and help her, and many of her worries had evaporated that moment. Needless to say, some remained, and her relief for the mind was to let her body wander freely. Now, her her green eyes stared blankly ahead of her as her four legs worked to bring her forward. Perhaps she was bitter, or perhaps she had not yet gotten quite so far in the process, but her mind was often occupied by images of a drunken Lubomir, even if she had never seen him so. She had smelled it, and that was enough for her. He had run because he was a coward - not because he didn't love her - but that changed nothing. His act had been the same, and she was forced to realize that his love had not been strong enough. Like the man himself, it had been a weak kind of love. A sensation that trickled her nose shook her from her deep thoughts and she stopped; whose smell was that? It was familiar beyond the pack scent, but so different... Certainly, he was a relative. Hesitantly, she started walking again, now with a pondering face, sometimes glancing around her. She did not really want to meet with anyone right now, as she was too busy with her self-pity and loathing. In fact, sometimes it was as if hiding oneself from the world made it all feel better, even if she knew it didn't. None could change the fact that she was broken and lonely, yet she craved solitude - no other company than her problems and her tears. Her plan was to avoid the pack member - whoever it was - but as the scent dramatically increased, she realized it was too late now. Any moment, she would be spotted, and social rules did not allow her to retreat. To gain the upper hand, her eyes searched everywhere for the person in question, and in not long she spotted a mixture of browns sitting some hundred yards to her left. The identity mystery was solved, and now she changed directions to meet him. Even if she had not wanted to see anyone, it could have been worse than meeting one of her nephews. Perhaps he could lift her spirits. Approaching him, now certain he knew she was there, she smiled, taking in the scenery he had created around himself. Books littered the ground and for a moment she thought of her drunken mate and how he had made a baby out of that library, but she threw the thought away. It would gain no one to speak of it, and she wanted to get to know these young males that she'd let grow up without her in their lives. Being a bitter old bat would not make a good impression. Softly, she spoke, with a careful voice and a small smile on her face. "Hey Conor. What are you reading?" |