It's the god that heroin prays to

POSTED: Fri Dec 30, 2016 9:18 pm

The Dampwoods, Woodview Quarry.

Snow scattered in flurries over the yearling’s slender shoulders, and turned the land all wintry-white. She did not bother sweeping any of this away; simply let it accumulate as it would, without much outward care.

In a way, Verity was herself a child of winter, so it seemed only fitting that she let it swallow her whole. Look, she seemed to say, here is this girl, and she belongs to you. It was this notion, however bizarre, that kept the Infernian trudging on across the gelid terrain.

After a time, she came to pause, and surveyed the quarry with eyes blown-wide. Among the remnants of humanity, all crumbling at their very foundations, here lay the building blocks— the building blocks of an era long-passed. Verity licked her chapped lips, and cut cautiously in the direction of a nearby pool. With a small rock that she had snatched out of the surrounding ruin, she managed to smash through the ice which had formed atop it, and brought the frigid water up to her mouth, sipping greedily.

Satisfied, the coy then moved to stand, only to trip, falling hands and knees back down upon the frozen earth. She swore, stood, fell once again, and finally sat back, chortling, until the skies rang out with the sound of her hapless laughter.


POSTED: Mon Jan 16, 2017 3:29 am

A silver haired vixen wandered through a limestone quarry. She was tiny, the shortest a Luperci could be. She was skinny despite the padding of her clothing. The girl shivered every so often due to her desert-adapted fur. She walked carefully, as if the ground would slip from under her feet. A large bushy tail swayed behind the female as she walked. A pair of large ears sat atop her narrow head, springing out from a mop of black hair. She wore a dress that had long sleeves and a hood. It was fur-lined and silver, ending mid thigh. The woman's long legs were covered by a pair of leggings and a satchel hung from her shoulder. A pair of broken, mismatched green eyes looked out at the world from a silver background.

The numbness still lingered. Even after she had joined a new pack, the memories of Midnight Shores still caused her pain. She was shocked, stunned, and broken. It was hard for her to smile, for her to be happy. Everything reminded the fox maiden of her old home, every smell, sight, and sound brought back the painful memories that she would rather forget. What if she would never forget the island pack? What would she do.

The silver belle desperately wanted to be okay again. To be able to feel happy, to smile and laugh. Would she ever be able to do that again? Would there ever be a day where she would think of Midnight Shores and not feel a needle stabbing into her heart? The healer sometimes wanted to turn to the bottle. To drink and forget. But the healer side of her argued against it as well as her morals and ethics. She would not drink. But what else could she do?

And then the jackal medic heard laughing. It made her jump to hear such a loud noise. And then she began sniffing the air, trying to see what she was facing. Since she was so...weak she had to be extra careful. She was so small, blind, and slow since she was in Optime form. She was so far away from the ground and being on two legs made it hard for her to run with her defected Achilles. The scent of Inferni, coyote, female, and herbs filled her nose. The Anatheman medic had met an Infernian before, several in fact. And the smell of herbs made her feel better since she trusted healers more.

The monochrome fox headed towards the source of the smell. She could see a blur that seemed to be in Optime form but sitting on the ground. Was the woman okay? People have been known to laugh in pain. So she decided to ask if the woman was okay.

"Are you okay?" The moon-washed jackal asked.

Word Count ➤ 477

Sorry for the wait! >.<

Jean-Sébastien Guénette | JadedReality & 8Moments | Table by Sammiie

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Somebody make me feel alive
The queen of a wretched design
I walk through the fire

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