Poor, obscure, plain and little!

Guillen | Grand Lake, Raudr Vineyard

POSTED: Sun Sep 24, 2017 6:12 pm

Isolda Lyashev
  • Word Count: [418]
  • Form: Optime
Sorry I took so long ):

Isolda found that moving and keeping her hands busy helped to ease her mind – or at least, kept her mind off the things that were grating against her nerves like a thorn in the pad of her thumb. Today she was rummaging in the basement ruins of some building that had once stood on the banks of a large lake. The Russian wolf had discovered the lake some time ago, but had found herself too busy to return and explore. Until this afternoon, that is, when none of her usual pursuits could claim her attention for more than a few minutes at a time.

Frustrated by her own inattention, Isolda had struck out for Grand Lake. She’d learned that the area had once belonged to a pack, now disbanded. The scents were stale enough she did not worry, and in her present mood she didn’t care much about the history of the place, only that she wouldn’t be bothered. For a time, scavenging for potentially useful odds and ends had held her focus. But a turn of events in her “love life” – Isolda sneered at the term, what love had there been? – kept coming to the forefront of her mind. It was not a thorn in her hand, but more like sand in her eyes. She writhed with humiliation and anger every time she thought about a certain white wolfdog and the events that had transpired.

What a fool, she! Like an idiot, she had been lulled into thinking that a bed shared could mean deeper feelings were also shared. The woman wasn’t sure she could even blame Janik for how she had thought such a thing, but it was easier to aim her bitterness at him than to face her own embarrassment and hurt over the matter.

With a vicious snarl, Isolda flung a ragged piece of cloth away from herself, any pleasure she’d gained from scavenging gone. The rag fluttered ineffectually through the air and landed limply a mere few feet away. Isolda suddenly felt very much like the cloth and dropped into a crouch, rocking back on her heels. To her horror, tears began to well up in her eyes. How pathetic, the Luperci thought as she scrubbed away the salty wetness, crying in some ruins – put yourself back together!

With a forceful sniffle, she resumed sorting through the rubble. She wanted to bring something useful back to Sapient for all her trouble, even if it was just a few not-too-rusted nails and wood scraps.

Life, into nothingness

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Isolda Lyashev

POSTED: Tue Oct 10, 2017 12:10 am

Guillen had set out on a longer trip than usual, the male increasingly confident that his captives would remain compliant, even without his constant presence. The night before had been a rather successful hunt as well, and meant that no one was likely to starve while he was gone. In some ways, it was another test, to see if they would still be present when he came back, or at least return by the next nightfall as he usually demanded. It was an inevitable test if he wanted to be able to trust either of them, to have useful pawns.

There had been no other grand plan for his excursion, perhaps find other potential places to slip off to, should one or both of his forced guests turned out to not break as well as he'd hoped. He was a strong male, usually confident enough to pick fights, but preferred his fights to be distinctly unfair, and not afraid to run if that was the better choice. Some ruins near a large lake looked promising from a distance, and so he headed toward them, the man finding himself in the entrance of the building, pondering where to look first.

His ears perked at the faint sound of something being moved, and after a few moments hesitation, started toward the sound. It would have been polite to announce himself when he found the path down to the basement, but Guillen remained tight-lipped as he started to descend. The large spear was awkward enough that he left the thing leaning against a wall, his footsteps not exactly quiet as he started to notice another Luperci's scent. ”Here I thought I might be lucky and have found ruins that haven't been picked over...” the male stated in a dry tone, but did not really believe that such a place existed.

The sight that met him was intriguing enough to justify the journey, a female that had probably been rummaging around in the building, normally something that he might have looked down upon them for. Yet her features were distinctly wolf-like, and he was not in a bad enough mood for that to goad him into harming the woman, at least not without first interacting with them. ”I'd started to wonder if there was nothing but coyotes and dogs in this part of the world... unless it's a mistake to think you're a wolf as well?” the man added, a not so subtle hint of his thoughts toward non-wolves.
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