the daydreamer's nightmare is to never even try

Myrika Tears · 06-28-2012, 07:03 AM

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The mahogany-haired woman shook her head firmly. He didn't. I think he was... well. I mean, I we can only guess. Maybe it's best not to speculate, she said hesitantly. There was no anger or disappointment on Vesper's scarred face, and that was a relief, at least. Myrika had hoped, above all, to avoid those two emotions. They might still come, but that they were not the first thing the Centurion leapt to was a very good thing, indeed. There was more certainty in her with Vesper's affirmation of her loyalty, and Myrika's small muzzle broke into a smile, wordless thanks. She knelt down to the other hybrid's height and placed a hand over Vesper's scarred back, not flinching away in the least at the broken flesh beneath.

I'm shocked, I think, she said quietly, laughing. I didn't know he'd... do this, she said, shrugging. I'm sorry if it's hurt you, she said, frowning. I said it should have been you, but Kaena, Myrika said, frowning and running her hand over the steely-gray patch of fur at Vesper's shoulders. It was harder to think touching her, but Myri wanted to, for her own comfort. She said it had to be a Lykoi. Myrika was a Lykoi by blood, but she didn't even have the surname. She crinkled her nose and wondered if that would be the old woman's next suggestion. I don't want to change my name, she added, ears flickering downward with the idea. Tears was her mother's surname, and she would not abandon this last vestige of Rachias.

Myrika is by Alaine!

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