her ledger dripping red
#1
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For Willam. Night, Folly Lake, ?? August. I'll fill in a date for myself later. :>


In the light of the full moon, she could see the smallest ripples in the lake, urged by the warm summer breeze. The cicadas kept at their incessant buzz, but she focused on the sound of water lapping at the supports of the dock and the dull, distant sound of the ocean just over the horizon. The lake's water was free of salt, but the smell was strong all the same, and it was her constant reminder that this was not home. The mountains were not far, but it was far enough, and even there, they were not her mountains, and never would be.


Sitting with her sprained ankle dangling over the edge of the dock and her other leg tucked beneath her, Cassandra sat quietly in the night, carefully sewing pockets into the cloak her sister had given her. The fabric was similar to that of her old one, and the feeling of it was comfortable and familiar between her fingers. The work was slow though, and her shoulder reminded her of her injury with every stitch and shift of weight. She needed to be the one to do it though; it was not Myrika's responsibility, and even if things were different, the pallid woman needed to be the one to assess and memorize each pocket's placement and position. It would keep her alive, however pitifully.

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#2
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Word Count → 348 :: Out of Character text


Since she had been unable to sleep Willam had taken to pacing around the entire perimeters of Inferni. She didn't expect to find anything but it was something to do in the very least. Even though she had tried not to disturb the equine Châtiment had still managed to catch her moving about and had followed her around. Of course her tripping and stumbling around in the dark caverns hadn't helped her to sneak around unnoticed. She had recently moved into the caves and still hadn't gotten used to the layout of it. So was it really any wonder that the stallion had been woken up? Still Willam wouldn't have minded if he had stayed behind for once but like the ever faithful companion that he had been he was trailing along behind the large female.

Willam had taken a southern route when leaving the caves in order to start her trip around the borders through the forest so that by the time that she came across the pale furred female Willam was towards the end of her circular. Feeling it would be impolite to simply continue on without a word Willam made a detour to head towards where the female had rested herself. "Hello. Willam la Chemin, formerly of la Chemin." She still hadn't gotten away from that particular greeting just yet. How could she when the place had been the only one that she she knew. Well, aside from Inferni now.

"I apologize for disturbing you." The large female was speaking again once she noticed that the other had something in her hands that she was working on. It was something that she hadn't noticed when she had first made her approach. Willam bowed her head to show that the sentiments were true. She truly hadn't meant to disturb the other. Of course Willam was upset with herself for not having noticed something so obvious. What else had she missed on her walk around the borders? And just like usual her thoughts went towards scrutinizing each and every thing that she could have possibly done wrong.

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#3
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She gave her work more focus than it required, but there were still thoughts leftover. No matter how careful she wanted to be, once each pocket had enough stitches to hold it in place, all that was left was to stitch in the gaps, and that did not need so much thinking. Her fingers moved rhythmically, and even the stabs of pain fit in smoothly, coming at a predictable pace at a predictable intensity. There was comfort in the easy pace and steady work, but it left her mind to wander, and the reason she was putting pockets in a new cloak invariably returned with all the reminders of other interwoven events and memories.


So while she would never admit it, Cassandra was grateful for the interruption. The woman was large for a coyote, silver and cream fur shining in the moonlight, and her demeanor was puzzling. The albino supposed she was surprised at the formality and politeness after her other encounters with Infernians thus far, but she remained guarded and somewhat tense all the same. "You're not disturbing me," she said cautiously, as if uncertain of her own words. "My name is Cassandra Asylum." She might have added, 'formerly of Thornloe' just to mimic the introduction, but that was a lie. She'd never been 'of' anything, and she had since decided that it was better that way. "What are you doing out so late?"

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#4
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Word Count → 357 :: Out of Character text


Perhaps Willam wasn't a true Infernian. She was certainly having trouble with their lax structure. How had everyone not keeled over from the almost continuous anxiety that she felt in only her month or so of living here? She was always fretting over the numerous things that she was possibly doing wrong. But she seemed to be the only one having such troubles. But then again she had grown up under a rigid rule set. She had never had to question what was right or wrong because everything was clearly laid out, along with the punishments for each misdeed. But there was nothing like that in Inferni. At least she hadn't run across anything like that. the rules here were much more vague than what it was that she was used to.

"I couldn't sleep so I thought that I would walk the borders instead." She gave a completely honest answer, not trying to conceal anything at all. But then again Willam had always been quick to admit to any minor wrong doing on her part and would submit to punishment. "I was told that was one of the things that I should do." She explained and glanced back out towards the borders. "Do you think that I am doing it too late?" Again she was fretting over any trivial mistakes that she might have made. This behavior was made even more apparent as a hand reached down for the cilice that was tired about her leg and was prepared to tighten it should the other female think that she might have been doing it wrong.

Willam's gaze traveled down to what Cassandra held in her hands. "If you don't mind, can I ask what you are working on?" Willam had never seen any manner of clothing before. But then again it wasn't like she even needed such things with the thickness of her fur. She was used to the winters, even if she hadn't spent one in Inferni yet, since she came from somewhere similar. She had only ever known what the weather was like in Canada as her previous residence had been located in Quebec.

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#5
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Cassandra was not fool enough to think that every member of the clan was some villain to be vanquished; this was clear enough from her sister's membership and ultimate decision to stay. But all the same, she remembered all she'd been told of the history and culture, and in her memory still, the look in Kharma's eyes when he told the tale of fire and betrayal gave her pause. It could easily be true that Inferni did not kill or betray any more (or less) than any other pack -- she did not believe anymore that there existed places free of such things -- but this was the place that had wounded her father's heart, and that, she would hold against them.


"I don't imagine there's ever a wrong time to patrol borders," the albino said, shrugging somewhat dismissively. "If patrols only occurred at set hours, it would be easy to invade indeed." There was an earnestness in the other woman's voice that made her feel slight condescension. It was not innocence, necessarily, that Willam la Chemin radiated, but it was similar, and it bothered her. And it was, perhaps, telling that honesty made her uneasy.


"I'm mending this cloak." The lie came easily, and she almost did not realize that it was a lie until the words had already left her lips. "Sewing in new pieces to patch some holes." In the night, even with the full moon, the folds of the fabric bunched together and slid over each other to form a hundred shadows. It would be hard for anyone to see that the cloak was still quite whole without holding it up for more careful examination. "I prefer to sleep during the day," she continued, moving the conversation away from what she was doing. "It is easier to get things done at night, I think."

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#6
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Word Count → 357 :: Out of Character text


Willam had yet to ever be betrayed so she had no reason to harbor any ill will towards those that she had pledged loyalty to. So far the only ones that she thought of with distaste were those belonging to the band of wolves that had burned her home. but that hadn't influenced her to hate all wolves, just those particular ones that were involved. She liked to think that it was just an isolated incident. So far she found herself still willing to accept differences in others.

Willam looked relieved to find out that what she was doing wasn't seen as wrong. She was glad to have not made a mistake. She was still looking to find her particular niche in this place. The only thing she felt competent at, and quite sure of herself in doing, was hunting. It was the one thing that she knew that she could do well without any of the doubts that she usually felt. But that was only one thing, only a single aspect of her life tat she didn't fret over.

"Cloak?" She possessed no knowledge of clothing. Because of the natural thickness of her coat she hadn't ever found herself to need anything to wrap herself in. So even if the cloak had been held up for inspection she wouldn't have known the difference. Willam was all too trusting and would never believe that she was being lied to. So if Cassandra said that she was fixing the cloak then she was fixing the cloak.

Willam smiled and nodded her head, taking a seat upon the ground. "Not many seem to be as active at night." So she could see why it was preferred to use that time to get things done that one wouldn't be able to concentrate on during the bustle of the day. "My favorite time of day has to be just before the sun rises. That brief moment where the world is quiet. The crickets have ceased their chirping and bird have yet to start singing." It was only a small span of time but it was when Willam found the most peace.

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#7
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Sometimes, she still liked to believe in the inherent goodness of people and their supposed natural disposition towards altruism. Kharma was her shining example, but she had seen it to some extent in many others. People wanted to be good, to do good, to not betray, to not harm, to not destroy. A handful of sadists would find their joys in the opposite, but most believed otherwise, and there was the rub. People always believed they were doing good, even when it was so easy for others to see the truth.


You mustn't judge, Cassandra, her father said, but he did anyway, and she did anyway. They couldn't not. It kept them alive.


"It covers me without getting in the way," she explained to the other woman, holding part of it up. "My fur gives me away too often," she elaborated with another shrug. Other reasons sat on the tip of her tongue, and she almost shared -- Willam did not seem threatening in the least, really -- but she swallowed them. They were idle details, her occasional sensitivity to sunlight and the usefulness of hiding items in the weaves. Camouflage was a good enough reason, and it was no less true, either.


Cassandra allowed a small smile. "That might be my favorite time of day, too," she said. "It is nice to sit alone then, in the forest, in the fog, on a hill, perhaps. Sometimes it feels like you're the only person in the world, but you know you aren't alone." The earth was there, always, as was the damp morning air, and the chill of a breeze. It was one of the most reassuring things in the world, she thought. "Those times, I wish the sun needn't rise."

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#8
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Word Count → 396 :: Out of Character text


Willam honestly tried to do good in her everyday life. When she gave her word she did her damnedest to keep it. Granted she was taken with mercy killings simply because she believed that it was best to give a swift death and ease suffering should one never again be able to do what it took to survive and care for themselves. There was only one group that she wouldn't extend that to and that was the band of wolves that had burnt her home. They were the only ones that Willam would actively wish to see suffer. Their attack had been unprovoked and what they had done was cruel. They had made it so that it would be near impossible to escape death.

Willam gave a nod of her head as it was explained to her what a cloak was. She didn't understand why the other female wished to be covered but she wasn't about to push the subject either. "I like your fur." She offered up the compliment, uncertain if it was actually appropriate to do so or not. She really wasn't used to making small talk and so she wasn't certain what was proper to say and what wasn't. "Your fur doesn't make you look big and unattractive as mine does." Willam knew she was a big girl and that her body lacked in feminine appeal. It had never really bothered her before, at least not until she found out that if she were to have a mate that she would have to find her own. Still she was comfortable with her own body. She might not ever have a mate but she was fine with herself just the way that she was.

Willam relaxed more as she caught Cassandra smiling. "It would be nice if it could last longer. That is the time that I find myself most at peace." Which was really something since her mind was usually analyzing all of her words and actions for something that she might have done wrong so that she could punish herself for it. "But isn't that just the way it is? The things where you can find the most comfort and peace in are given to you only in brevity. It is why you have to cherish them and be thankful for them while you have them." Or was that Willam's experience alone?

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#9
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"Thank you," she said, pausing awkwardly a moment to re-straighten the cloak in her lap. "It's very indiscrete though." Pale red eyes passed over the other woman a moment, then she shrugged. "I don't think you're unattractive. Bigger is intimidating, which can be helpful. Perhaps I'm too utilitarian though." Cassandra had a perfectly workable appreciation of beauty and had been called beautiful many times in her life, but she considered that most things could be beautiful given the proper frame.


Blood was beautiful, given poetic contrast, or as long as they deserved it, or as long as it didn't belong to someone you cared about, as long as it took the pain of something else away. Fire was beautiful on a cold winter evening, but not rippling through a forest that many had once called home. Sunsets were beautiful, and sunrises were too, as long as she didn't look too closely. Rain was beautiful in cool summer drizzles, as long as it wasn't a storm, or as long as she had shelter. There was always a catch. Cassandra was beautiful, as long as she did not hold a throat between her jaws, or maybe only when she did.


"I think the brevity it is what makes it peaceful," she said, picking up her needle again. "If those moments lasted longer, they would become like the rest of the night, or the rest of the day, long and hard and full of opportunities for things to go awry." Rather suddenly, she had the thought that lives were best lived quickly. Short, but full, with nothing drawn not, and nothing saved for last. Brief, impulsive, and passionate, without time to second guess. "Have you been with Inferni long?"

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#10
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Word Count → 504 :: Out of Character text


"I doubt one looks for intimidation in a mate." She spoke the words, broaching what weighted so heavily on her mind. "I don't even know what is to be looked for in a mate. I simply know that I am expected to find my own should I wish to contribute to the next generation." Willam had taken to the ground as she spoke quietly about her insecurities. She paused to glance up at the pale female briefly before she was looking away again, this time staring off towards the horizon. "What would you suggest? In la Chemin the leader would choose the pairings. I never knew what he judged on but it was done to make certain that the next generation was going to be strong." And she had been fine with that. She actually liked not having to make her own decision. Things were far easier that way since she never had to worry about making a wrong choice.

Willam knew all about the fire. it was a blessed thing when upon the pyre but not when it had trapped the others of la Chemin within their home. There had been no beauty in those being forced to pass over before they had reached a natural end to their lives. Willam had been lucky to escape that fate. Though she didn't know of how many others had as well. She missed her old home and the ease of the way things were done there. But she was growing to be fond of Inferni as well. She still had to get used to the many differences though.

"I think you are right." How peaceful could they be if the lasted longer and gave more of an opportunity for others to interrupt them? Yes, they were best when they were short but still she wished the ease and peace of mind that she felt could last longer at least. "Just for a couple of months or so. It was only recently that I met with the leadership and got my duties as well as living arrangements." Because her anxiety had her putting off speaking with the ones in charge. The whole time she had been hoping to come across a messenger to do her speaking for her. "Have you been here for years like the others have?" At least it was her assumption that everyone else had been living within Inferni for that long. She assumed that most had been born here and spent their entire lives here. The large female didn't see ay reason at all to leave behind one's home. Unless a disaster would strike, as had happened with her. If not for the fire that had threatened to consume everything left behind in la Chemin then she would have never gone anywhere else. And now it would be the same with Inferni. She saw no reason to leave the place unless tragedy struck once again. Willam would only leave when Inferni became no more as had happened with la Chemin.

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#11
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She gave a short laugh, surprising herself a little. "You never know, some may well enjoy harmless intimidation. They might appreciate the strength." It was not her favorite conversational subject in the world, but the other woman's perspective was uniquely strange, and it somehow, the words to respond with came very easily to Cassandra. "You can probably expect that most don't know what they're looking for until they've found it. There's nothing that says you absolutely must find a mate either. "


The pallid woman glanced sideways at Willam and considered what she said about la Chemin. The idea that someone would dictate the pairings of the pack repulsed her on multiple levels, but the idea was surreal enough to feel almost like fantasy to her. At the same time, it was not hard for her to guess at the appeal of such a system. There was a freedom in lack of freedom, perhaps. "Why do you want to contribute to the next generation?" she asked plainly, "There are enough children around, plenty without parents of their own."


Cassandra paused a moment at the coyote's other question, then shrugged her good shoulder. "No," she said of her membership term. "I am only here to visit my sister. I will not stay in Inferni." It was obvious enough that she was also injured and healing, but she saw no reason to point out the obvious. "Why did you decide to come here?"

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#12
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Word Count → 543 :: Out of Character text


Cassandra's words actually had her laughing softly. She had never before imagined such things. Was it really possible that there might actually be someone that would like her just as she was? She had always thought that the opposite sex always wanted one that gave off the impression of a delicate little flower as their mates. "Perhaps not but it is looked favorably upon." Well, she didn't really know if that mattered in Inferni or not but it was all she had known growing up. There had been one time pairings in la Chemin before but those were sanctioned by the leadership and were quite rare. It usually happened when one mate passed along before another. It allowed for them to still contribute. The other half of the pairing was only known by the leadership in those cases. "I don't care so much for having a mate as for being able to contribute."

Willam focused on Cassandra as she was questioned about her fervent wish to add to the next generation. Willam had never really thought about why she wanted to do such a thing before but just knew that it was something that would end up happening. "I don't know. It is the only thing that I can give and prove my loyalty. It has just always been expected that I never questioned it before." The answer probably wouldn't be good enough but Willam really couldn't think of any other way to make a big contribution. She wasn't as skilled as others were, though she was willing to learn. "The only children I know of belong to Helotes." And well, they already had a father so it wasn't as if they were orphaned. "I gave his daughter a lesson in how to fish. You should see her. She is a natural." And she had given the girl further lessons past the first one. But it was only those two that she knew to be children of Inferni. She hadn't come across any others.

"Actually I didn't really mean to come here. I was on my way to land's end when I found the borders. I paused to question the decorations and ended up being invited to stay. With la Chemin destroyed I had nowhere else to go so I ended up accepting the offer and staying." Plus she had gotten along well with Ithiel and they had shared some of the same beliefs. She couldn't end up turning him down when she had found a kindred spirit in such an unexpected place. It was like it was fated for them to meet. Or such is what Willam had come to end up believing. Perhaps it would seem to be really silly to someone that didn't hold the same beliefs but it gave Willam a small amount of hope when she had just ended up losing everything that she had ever known. It gave her something to look forward to rather than the despair that she had been feeling prior to that encounter. So it really was enough for her even if she could never exactly explain it to someone else. Sure, Inferni was quite different but she was learning and making adjustments. The place was slowly becoming home to her.

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#13
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Jerome had not been a fairy tale prince, but he had tried to be. He had been shy and awkward and unimpressive in almost every regard. He had been slow, had had poor endurance, was a terrible fighter, and a mediocre hunter. These pitiful downfalls had been endearing somehow, and that was proof enough that traditionally favorable traits didn't matter much. That their attraction had been puppy love at best didn't matter either. It could have been love, eventually. Cassandra twitched an ear when she stabbed herself with her needle, took a long, slow breath, then refocused on what Willam was saying.


"You don't think protecting the clan, sharing your skills by teaching, and other things prove your loyalty? That's contributing too -- your time, your effort. You don't need to produce something tangible for it to be a contribution." Indeed, children were almost the easiest thing to contribute. Any fool could make a litter of sniveling brats. Maybe the breeding would be good, but what parent could really guaruntee how their kids turned out? She'd had a perfect father, and that hadn't mattered in the end. It was harder to fight, to teach, to care. These were surely more worthy contributions.


"I don't suppose most orphans are lucky enough to find a pack in time to survive," she said, shrugging with one shoulder. "But Inferni must produce a fair number of litters for there to be so many Lykois." No where else to go. It seemed to be a common theme. That was why their kind banded together in the first place, right? They needed somewhere to belong. Not for physical survival's sake -- most were more than capable of finding water and killing enough to eat -- but some deep emotional need for company. She couldn't stand it. It was inevitable that that desperation would drive them all mad even when they surrounded themselves with so many others. The desperation never really went away, so of course they went mad.


"What happened to la Chemin?"

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