[/html]*kicks and runs away*
Some terrible part of her recognized that this was the surest way to seduce others into pity. Look sad enough and pathetic enough and those with good hearts would take you in and give you a chance and shelter you without asking too many questions. It was easiest there because her sister was there, but it might have worked with Skye too. And indeed, Cassandra probably trusted Cercatori D'Arte more than she trusted Inferni (because even fairy tales had to start with some grain of truth), but she wanted to trust Myrika more than anyone else, even if she did not think Myrika should trust her.
The pallid woman would more quickly accept that her pitiful appearance and general presentation was a ruse aimed to deceive than admit the things she felt were genuine. She swallowed a lump in her throat and it returned to be swallowed again and again. Cassandra wanted to disappear rather than have Myrika comb through her hair and fur, picking out what remained of the man she had killed. Her happy childhood and her unhappy present were not things she ever wanted to cross. She had accepted for a long time that she would never see her family again -- that was something she had already dealt with and cried over. This was something new, and she wanted to cry yet.
There was no relief at Myrika's acquiescence. She would be physically safe a while, presumably, but it would be at some emotional cost she was already failing to distance herself from. She didn't want to be there, had been avoiding it her whole life, and now she would betray the very last promise she hadn't broken yet, and for what?
Cassandra, normally very observant, had not bothered to notice that Ezekiel's scent had been gone from the borders or that the general composition of scents was very different from what it had been months ago. That Inferni might have changed radically had not been something she cared about at all, and despite her concern with Myrika's membership, her sister and the clan still stood as quite separate entities in her mind. She had never considered that Myrika might inherit their cousin's former position and still did not. Ezekiel's absence meant little to her. That Myrika's scent was overwhelming and all around her was easily attributed to her existing fears and preoccupations.
"Okay," she said and hesitantly placed a hand in her sister's. "I can't walk very quickly though; I think my ankle is sprained." She looked away again. "If you call your horse back, I can follow you." She could not suggest Myrika ride with her. She could not suggest she touch her blood-tainted saddle and horse and everything else.
| Messages In This Thread |