Sorry for the wait. 
First the body, then the head… She had gone over this in her mind countless times. She knew how it would look, how it would feel. Even now as the blade slid neatly through her flesh, she could feel a sense of accomplishment within herself. Lucia had successfully carved the body of a snake; it curled around her ankle, over her shin.
There was sick smile on her face. Blood soaked into her fur, dripped onto the earth. She couldn’t feel it, she was numb. The alcohol had helped a lot, but it mostly came down to her frame of mind. She was warped, deranged. He had made her this way, and now he continued to plague her every thought. No matter what she did, he was there. It was though he had never left… but that wasn’t good enough. She had to make it real.
Continuing to cut, Lucia hadn’t noticed the shining eyes nearby. She hadn’t caught the scent of companionship, nor caught the sounds of movement heading for her. Those emerald coals bore into her body, concentration and anguish across her face. The blade sparkled in the firelight, sending a light over her eyes. The scar that lurked over her left eye wrinkled, glared out as a fierce reminder of how she viewed herself. Lucia was as damaged and as ugly as that scar, she was a monster. Though, in this moment, she couldn’t see that, couldn’t feel that. All she could see was Snake, all she could feel was the strange tingle of pain, and she devoured it hungrily.
It wasn’t until a voice shot through the wilderness that her attention came back to reality. Looking up, her eyes narrowed as she looked into the shadows for the owner of the voice. She could see him, glowing from the flames. It gave him a ghostly aura, almost like some sort of martyr with a halo. Lucia sneered coldly, thinking for a moment that he was just her imagination toying with her. The alcohol and depression had twisted her thoughts. She couldn’t believe anything was real anymore. Why would she want to? Reality was painful… and Lucia did not want to feel pain. Even now, when she drew the blade of her dagger through herself, she couldn’t allow herself to feel it.
“What do you think I’m doing?” She rasped spitefully, a look of instability in her eyes. She couldn’t feel the tears in her eyes anymore. They must have dried up. The shock of interruption had cured her of that weakness. “I’m fixing myself…” She muttered quietly, turning her head back to her bleeding leg.
She started to carve the head, still adamant that the male who stood in the light of the fire wasn’t real. She couldn’t allow herself to think that, it would torture her. She couldn’t escape men, they were everywhere. No matter where she went, what she did, they came and found her. Was someone doing this to her? Was something out to get her? Her paranoid mind raced dangerously. She was fragile, damaged. She was a loaded gun.
Slicing the head into her muscle, she noticed that in the unannounced visit of this male, she had screwed up the brand. Lucia growled unhappily, looking back at the silvery male. “Look what you made me do… stupid fool!” She growled under her breath, the smell of alcohol wafting into her nostrils. She wanted to throw her dagger at him, put his skull into the fire. Anything to make herself feel better. This rage was building. She was an unstable mixture of chemicals, a bomb ready to explode. If only Snake hadn’t left… oh, how things would have been different.
Trying to recover her brand, Lucia again tried to ignore the presence of the male. She went to cut again, to finish her little masterpiece. This way she would never be alone again. He could never leave, never disappear without a trace. He would always be with her, and she could feel happy again… Oh, Lucia… such a twisted, deranged mind. Happiness could never come this way.