my lonesome

Vesper · 12-19-2011, 10:26 PM

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Not sure where the length came from; you
don't need to match! +529

It had been a very long time since Vesper had traveled his far south, passing through her usual favored haunts and skirting the borders of an interesting smelling pack she could have sworn hadn’t been there when she was a loner. She galloped on past the city skyline and cut through the coast into the forest—the forest where she and her dear friend had played what seemed like long ages ago. It hadn’t changed much, despite the absence of the laughing females, but even so the air seemed colder and her heart ached fiercely.

Blind’s voice rang fresh in her ears, of her giggling and the distinct little excited chirp of her voice. Her scent also seemed fresh, and for a second Vesper froze in her tracks, sniffing the air frantically. It was only a memory, though, and she resisted the urge to attack the nearest tree as she realized her error. She didn’t think it would be possible to miss someone so fiercely after seeing them only a few times, but she hadn’t allowed herself to get so close to someone for fear of this: of the empty place in her heart, the keen desire to see them again, the dread that something terrible had happened.

It was perhaps why she hadn’t gotten close to anyone in Inferni, as X’yrin had cautioned her about. Despite the insistence from her Shepard that she would never walk alone in the world, the dappled hybrid certainly felt alone now. There was only one wolf she could think about since waking that prior morning from a sweet dream. It had distracted her from her duties throughout that day, and so she had eventually come to know what she had to do.

She had to know for certain if Blind was truly gone, or if something was keeping her within her pack territory. Vesper had spent too many hours waiting around the hilltop they had embraced on, and some sick serpent writhing in the pit of her stomach led her to believe it was more than a coincidence or simple circumstance that the other hadn’t showed up.

She had to know.

The coywolf had to stop to catch her breath when she finally reached the northernmost border of Crimson Dreams, in a space where the forest ended and the rolling hills began. She had traveled almost nonstop since her earlier break at nightfall three quarters of the way there. She almost dragged herself toward the borders as exhaustion threatened to creep up on her again, but for once she didn’t absolutely correct her posture. To appear fit and wild would cause whoever appeared to distrust her immediately—if being a coyote from Inferni did not already set them on edge. Instead, her patchwork features were weary and nonthreatening, and she followed the proper etiquette as she finally came to stand just outside the scent marks that did not carry a trace of her friend’s odor.

The howl that the hybrid let out was a distinct one, a yapping coyote cry edged with the long and sorrowful note of a lone wolf, though she had ceased to be one for many moons now.

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