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Sun Jun 30, 2019 8:49 pm
|WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.|
Pale colored paws carried her forward through the well worn rout of patrol that she took from day to day, the terrain smelled of her and a few other fighters who'd taken it upon themselves to be sure that no one slipped into their midst from the outside that was not welcome there. Red pine needles littered the forest floor as she walked, pushing them out from her path with sliding feet. She wielded the weapon that her mate had bestowed her, when he'd told her that he believed in her, and that he knew that she could take all the bad that it represented and create something new and good, like a phoenix rising again from the ashes of it's own brilliant funeral pyre. But she wasn't a phoenix, she was just a fire, low burning, giving off little warmth, but still taking life.She gripped the scythe high up on the snath, close to the blade, while she let the end of it drag in the dust from her limp appendage. The journey that she and Lukos had gone on together was a good one, she'd had fun, and for the first time in a long while she was... happy.
She wanted to go back there, to the place where she could be carefree, without the burden of this work, the constant battles waging on around her as well as within. When she was with him, she'd begun to find that her energy was returning, the light behind her eyes was beginning to rekindle, to burn as bright as ever, but that was then, and now they were back.
The dingy little femme continued on her path with a dull look in her eyes. She felt, heavy, as if this invisible weight was pressing down upon her, slowing her down. Apart from training the recruits, the occasional scuffle to drive off an all-too-curious loner, and internal affairs, the pyre felt that she wasn't connecting with her daughter, or maybe that she didn't know how. The people that Nyx cared about most all felt so far out of reach to the snowy warrior. In all actuality, things in the forest had been peaceful, for the most part, since the death of the dark monster that had plagued their woods, but for all the battles fought and overcome, Nyx was afraid. She was always afraid, and it ate away at her, caused her to lash out at the people she wanted most to protect and to love. She was afraid of getting hurt, of her next fight, of not being able to protect the ones that she cared about, of not being good enough.
She was ready to just turn around and go home, to go back to bed, and shut out the world, when the sound of shifting foliage to her right drew her attention, pale white head snapping up to see a scruffy looking male coyote staring her down with fangs bared. "That's a fun little tool you've got there, Miss. Would fetch me something useful with the traders I reckon." Came a hoarse voice, perhaps a smoker, or merely rough from age and misuse. "Give it to me and I won't have to hurt you, you be good now, come on." He continued, staring her in the eyes as his hackles rose, a knobby paw reaching behind him to pull a crude knife from his belt. It wasn't something that Nyx would think to add to the armory, but the silvered edge told her that it had been freshly sharpened.
"T..Try it!" The petite lapine growled back, her own hackles raising as she gripped the scythe with both hands in front of her. "I-If you leave now I w-wont pursue, b-but if you choose t-t-to fight, I-I'll kill you." She stammered, her eyes tired and afraid, little ferocity to be shown in them, apart from the determination that showed she believed in her own words.
But he laughed, and he came for her, running wildly at the snowy femme, probably relying on intimidation rather than skill, and she raised her weapon, blocking his attack, and spinning out of the way to dispel the force of it. She was off her game, she knew it as the fight continued, the wood of her scythe earning a few new chips and dents as they danced that oh so familiar waltz. Truth be told, she didn't want to kill him, but the feeling of pain slicing across her hide was enough to make it happen. She swung, blade facing out, and caught him in the neck, the scythe digging half way into it before jamming, and the icy fighter dropped the weapon and left him to drop to the floor with steel cutting off all the vital things for life like blood and air as it all slowly drained out of him.
She looked down to her side where she had been cut, the wound was shallow, but not so superficial that she wouldn't need it to be treated. It hurt, and the femme had grown quite good at masking her pain, but she was tired of it. Dropping to her knees in the dirt, legs splayed out on either side of her, the girl clutched her wound, and bowed her head, blood slowly seeping between her fingers, and silver dew drops falling from her eyes.
Wed Jul 10, 2019 8:39 pm
Fri Sep 06, 2019 4:30 pm