crocodiles cry for the love of the crowd

Salvia Eternity · 04-03-2012, 03:06 AM

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As young as she was, Salvia had not learned the matters of pretense. She saw glimpses of it between her parents, but it was something she did not understand fully yet. For this reason alone she had no reason to read him as false. Whereas he was well-practiced and experienced in this charade, she was green to it. Never did she hide herself as others did—Salvia charged into the field all tooth and claw, roaring and ripping asunder those who stood against her. She did not know the ways of deception. In time she would come to learn these things, and in time this would warp her further into the tool of her dark god in the flesh.

She watched him, though. She saw every shifting shadow, every muscle shift and flash of fang. There was something captivating about watching the devil work. He strung her along, pulling at emotions she did not know she felt. Her exhaustion made her mind sluggish, and her aching body distracted her further. Dark tipped ears fell back at his words, and her proud shoulders slumped in the first sign of regret.

“Yes,” she admitted, and her voice waivered only slightly. She forced the emotion deep into her belly, where it twisted uncomfortably. “I just…no one has ever hit me like that,” she went on, and looked up to him. “I’ve fought since I’ve been able, Uncle, and I fight for you alone.” There was a hint of desperation in her words. The fear of exile, of slavery, of death were all very real to her now.

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