10-18-2009, 02:13 PM
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OOC: ::Word Count:: 500+
The pale femme looked straight ahead of her, letting her friend's words wash over her like the steady tide would on a coast-- uneventful, half-expected, yet surprising in its simple foreseeable arrival. It wasn't necessarily that they had ceased to impress her-- quite the contrary; it was simply that she felt they were somewhat superfluous. Little would change for her, irrespective of whether or not they were said. Half of her was already resigned with the current situation-- maybe not all was lost to her, but for the moment Pilot was, and nothing that she or Savina did or said could bring him back. This new shift in her life barely allowed her a bit of peace of mind; she had lost night after night trying to push these musings from her mind, trying to regain what was left of her withering perseverance. She felt it now more than ever, as she lay down on the grass, staring at the lands of Crimson Dreams spreading all around her; she felt it in her bones, as well as in her mind: she was slowly tiring, her reserves drained, her willpower thinning rapidly, her stubbornness to prevail wearing out. What was left for her, if not this lingering despair? Each day dragged on, leaving her listless and craving any bit of contact.
The ivory female decided it would be unthoughtful of her to allow the silence to take hold of their conversation, so she simply said, "Your intentions are noble, as well as kind. And they do not go unappreciated. But I think you can also see how such a thing seems foreign to me. Ask me what it is to be happy, and I do not think I will be able to accurately answer. It feels as if so much time has gone since I was last happy that it's almost impossible for me to ever feel it again. And while I know that that's not true, simply cannot be true, this is what I feel in my heart: that with losing him, I have lost my meaning. I do not know for how much longer I can endure his absence, for how much longer I will be able to find something to keep me going. Lately, letting go, drifting away has been such an inviting prospect that I find myself battling with myself so as not to abandon this waiting process I have embarked upon. But there are days when I wake up, after sleepless nights, and wonder idly, 'Why?'. And there is no answer that I can give myself. To me, there is nothing else but his absence. I live through it and I know no other way by which to live. And it is slowly tearing me apart, the loneliness, the unknown." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, emotion taking hold of her, her amber orbs prickling under the threat of tears. The blanched she-wolf felt vulnerable, raw. He took my energy, my very being, with him. I have not only misplaced him. I have misplaced myself.
The pale femme looked straight ahead of her, letting her friend's words wash over her like the steady tide would on a coast-- uneventful, half-expected, yet surprising in its simple foreseeable arrival. It wasn't necessarily that they had ceased to impress her-- quite the contrary; it was simply that she felt they were somewhat superfluous. Little would change for her, irrespective of whether or not they were said. Half of her was already resigned with the current situation-- maybe not all was lost to her, but for the moment Pilot was, and nothing that she or Savina did or said could bring him back. This new shift in her life barely allowed her a bit of peace of mind; she had lost night after night trying to push these musings from her mind, trying to regain what was left of her withering perseverance. She felt it now more than ever, as she lay down on the grass, staring at the lands of Crimson Dreams spreading all around her; she felt it in her bones, as well as in her mind: she was slowly tiring, her reserves drained, her willpower thinning rapidly, her stubbornness to prevail wearing out. What was left for her, if not this lingering despair? Each day dragged on, leaving her listless and craving any bit of contact.
The ivory female decided it would be unthoughtful of her to allow the silence to take hold of their conversation, so she simply said, "Your intentions are noble, as well as kind. And they do not go unappreciated. But I think you can also see how such a thing seems foreign to me. Ask me what it is to be happy, and I do not think I will be able to accurately answer. It feels as if so much time has gone since I was last happy that it's almost impossible for me to ever feel it again. And while I know that that's not true, simply cannot be true, this is what I feel in my heart: that with losing him, I have lost my meaning. I do not know for how much longer I can endure his absence, for how much longer I will be able to find something to keep me going. Lately, letting go, drifting away has been such an inviting prospect that I find myself battling with myself so as not to abandon this waiting process I have embarked upon. But there are days when I wake up, after sleepless nights, and wonder idly, 'Why?'. And there is no answer that I can give myself. To me, there is nothing else but his absence. I live through it and I know no other way by which to live. And it is slowly tearing me apart, the loneliness, the unknown." Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, emotion taking hold of her, her amber orbs prickling under the threat of tears. The blanched she-wolf felt vulnerable, raw. He took my energy, my very being, with him. I have not only misplaced him. I have misplaced myself.
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