[P] [m] whimsy
gaspesia / after jan 10th
gonna bark or bite
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The days would blend together. Sun filtered through the decaying remnants of a fallen tree - best forgotten. No, t'was, when night entered the sky, did she wake. Unfurling herself like a bat, the canine stretched and begun to roam the wilds once more. Cruel would be the world that blinded her to its faults. Crueler still that she had allowed it for so long. Mother's death... both a blessing and a curse. Now she had no one to rely on. Now, she was quite free. Was that not something wonderful? She thought it is.

The bitch held nothing in her paws but potential. Like all things, her heart would beat to the rhythm of life - of blood. Once it stopped beating and flowing, she would litter the earth. Perhaps in two or three pieces - she didn't care - the victim of so many things but ultimately one or two. Two could be fun. One would be acceptable. So, no, she could not fear death. There'd be the anticipation of it. Excitement. The next great stepping stone of the beyond.

That is why she did not fear the proverbial Reaper. Well, one of the reasons anyway.

Some would. Some non-Luperci, simple beasties, would. Rue saw the power - sheer and raw - in their muscles. Their expanded limbs and eerie beauty were envied by the bitch. Even the simple joy of holding an object... She wanted it. But, alas, like all things... There'd be a good way and a right way. The good way is to find and ask. The right way was to be patient. Someone would come along. If you're Rue, you have a hidden little perfect way.

Luperci did not just give power away to the basic beasts. Some could, some would be glad. But she did not wish to make a pact with them. They were weak. They gave so freely that nothing would be left for them. So she did what she always would do; she hunted. Someone or something would come along at the right time. Tonight? Well, she came across a particular one. Rue could go up, tail wagging and barking a greeting -

But she played it cautiously. The scent of him reminded her of New Orleans. Swamp water. Bogs. Annoying chattering instincts buzz - buzz - buzz! -ing around her head. She followed the man through the foliage as he walked. Her blue eyes focused entirely on his dark-light contrast. One eye could be milky and useless. The other was a stark red compared to her pale blues. She was so very careful not to step on anything.

She needed to know what he was all about first.
(440) | tagging spartacus
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Messages In This Thread
[m] whimsy - by Rue Blight - 2 January 2022, 05:16 AM
RE: [m] whimsy - by Spartacus Simone Ulrich - 3 January 2022, 05:44 PM

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