02-04-2009, 11:13 AM
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| Out of Character *loves on* In Character It'd been just over a week now. Kol had settled back into her little house near the cemetery, reuniting with her best friend and generally getting used to the idea of being home. Dahlia de Mai still felt like home to the dark girl, but there was no denying that she had changed though Dahlia had not. It was true she had missed out on a great many things while she was off defending her family, but even those hardly felt like changes compared to how the Stormbringer felt on the inside. When she'd first sought acceptance into Dahlia's ranks those many months ago, she'd been eager, adventurous, naive, a blank slate; all the many things a girl her age should have been. The battles and conflict with Inferni had begun to shape her in her earlier months, building her confidence and letting the girl know herself better, letting her discover just what she'd been made of. As bloody and horrific as that war had been, it had brought about dependable and admirable qualities in the young Kol, and she was grateful for that. The war she'd been called away to, however, was another matter entirely. No one Kol knew had been lost to the war between her chosen pack and Inferni. But she was now minus a brother and several cousins thanks to those damned Dawnrunners. Skripi had been the runt of Kol's litter, but he'd thrown himself into the skirmishes the same as anyone else, and there'd been nothing Kol could do to save him once three of the white devils had gotten ahold of him. It hadn't been quick, and it hadn't been clean. And even the fact that those three had lost their lives not long after the act brought no comfort to the Stormbringer. The moment of her brother's death was the closest Kol had ever come to letting go her hold on the inner darkness that was her family's heritage, and she was still thankful to this day that she'd kept her control. The Stormbringers carried within them a thread of insanity and violent tendencies, and they spent every day of their lives trying to keep that inner demon caged. The Dawnrunners, with their hypocritical ideals and zealous beliefs, had a far deeper and more dangerous insanity in their own blood it would seem. Kol would be damned if she'd ever let herself become like one of them. Reflective thoughts raced through the quiet girl's mind as she lay beneath the stars. It was a cloudless night, and the shewolf was a single shadow amongst the many cast by the crumbling concrete angels and broken tombstones of the graveyard. Nightmares of the atrocities she'd seen had pulled Kol from her fitful rest, and her mind sought a fleeting peace offered by the silent guardians of the cemetery, where the screams of her brother faded to echoes in the night. Table by Fishie! |