in a real death waltz

Lolita Monroe · 06-07-2010, 01:44 PM

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300+ words. WotD: Fathom.

The diversity of the canines of the world astounded her. There were wolves, there were coyotes, there were dogs. Different tongues were spoken, different cultures lived in. Some were happy and friendly, while others were monsters in the flesh. There were the living ones, and then there was her. "Have you been to many places?" she asked, thinking of her own travels. She had travelled throughout Canada, choosing this area as her final place because of its proximity to her uncle. It had been hatred and the desire for revenge that had made her stay here, and perhaps that itself was taking its toll on her. Lolita could hardly even begin to fathom why she had thought that this was the best place for her to stay. She certainly had not exacted her revenge on Vigilante, and she did not think she ever would. She was hardly strong enough.

Lolita did not understand the basis of the war, truthfully. She was friends with both Kaena and Anselm, or had been, anyway. Now, she was not sure how she felt about either of them, and she could not even begin to think about what they considered her now. For all intents and purposes, she had become their enemy and they were hers, all because of this stupid, ridiculolus war. "Why... do the coyotes and the wolves hate each other so much?" she asked, her tone almost timid. Lolita was not even a full-blooded wolf. Her mother had been a mixture of a German Shepherd father and an Alaskan Malamute mother, and her father had been a wolf, though she had never met him and did not even know his name. Lolita had the appearance of a creamy-colored shepherd, though it was not the dominant part of her blood. She did not look like a wolf, and she did not hate coyotes, but she seemed to have been grouped with the rest of Dahlia de Mai. It was hard to understand.

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