Say it if it's worth saving me.

Gemma Rhiannon Sawtooth · 11-01-2011, 07:55 PM

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backdated to october 30th

Word Count → 1012

While their oblivious pack mates went about their meaningless and unimportant lives, uncaring of the tragedy that was unfolding within Anathema's very stone heart, Gemma and Giuseppe were huddled together within their cave along with their desperately ill son. The small child lay half on each of their laps and covered by his birthing blanket as his wheezing breaths slowly got shallower and shorter. For all his sickness Gemma had been starting to believe that he would make it, that he would survive and pull through but in the last few days he had mad an extreme turn for the worse, the child hadn't woken up in a day and a half not even to eat or drink.

She didn't cry, she couldn't cry so her blue eyes remained tearless and dry. She had no more tears left in her. As the night wore on a cold lifelessness seeped into her bones and turned them to ice, as she watched her son die with no knowing of how to help him or ease the poor child's suffering. Then the time came that he simply stopped drawing breath and exhaled one last time with a small sigh never to return to life again. For all intents and purposes to Gemma and Giuseppe it seemed as though he had simply stopped breathing but in fact the little pup's heart had given out under the strain of keeping him alive. Still his death was painless and quiet.

Giuseppe's face was an unreadable blank mask that she could not pierce, together they had suffered through this and now it was time for them to mourn separately, she would be kind to give and give him space to grieve like she knew he wanted to, he was holding back because she was here. She took the child and wrapped his cooling body up in the blanket that he had been born onto, it only seemed right that he would be cremated in it as well. She would sort this out, she could have some along time with what used to be her son but was now just an empty shell. She grabbed her bag from the floor and turned one last time to look at the coydog, he was staring at the wall with a far away look, she left him to himself. As the skin swished closed behind her she could hear gentle sobs as Giuseppe broke down and cried for the loss and life of his firstborn child.

The blanket was clutched to her chest, a precious cargo to beheld. The woman wandered aimlessly through the tunnels of Anathema, a lost ghost or wraith searching and seeking but never finding, her deep blue gaze dull and dead, haunted. Some parts of it were blank stretches of her memory, gone and taken from her though she would not miss the hours from her life spent wandering. At some point she stopped and leaned against the wall sliding down its cold stone until she was sat on the floor. She was empty and broken, finally life had broken Gemma Sawtooth. More blackness extended and she came to with her knife in her hands and blood running from her fingers where she had sliced them by accident. She didn't feel the pain.

She stared hard at the pristine white fur that covered her, the cogs of her mind twisting and turning. It was all the fur's fault. That color had condemned her from the start, had caused all this misery and suffering, had ruined her life. Anger hardened her now and she raised the knife up before bringing it down, slicing through a clump fur. It floated from her body to rest on the rocky floor and she felt... less weighed down. As though its leaving her had lightened her soul. She pulled herself to her feet now and tied the blanket containing her son to her chest, he would come with her to her destination.

As she walked slowly along the woman continued to cut chunks of her fur away from her arms and front side. Inevitably she sometimes slipped with the crimson liquid coating her fingers and the knife dug into flesh, adding spots and blobs of blood to the trail of pure white fur that she was leaving in her wake. It took her several hours with her slow winding gait to reach the place she was heading. The waves lapped gently against the sands and cliffs, the tide was out, how lucky for her. She continued to hack away her fur until there was only a sparse layer less than a centimeter in thickness covering the entire front of her body from her neck down to the tops of her thighs, her arms were similarly bare as was the end of her tail, only now was the true damage that her long fur had hidden revealed.

The poor woman was littered with scars from the beatings she had received from both her mother and from Gabriel, her long fur had kept it away from the world but now it was bare for all to see. The only place that wasn't scarred was her face, Gabriel had wanted to keep that pretty even as he befouled her body and damaged her mind irreversibly. The woman worked for a good while more, collecting driftwood that had been washed ashore, finally her pile was big enough and a fire was started, illuminating her position on the beach. She sat down near the fire and stared into it as it crackled. Jaden's body had been removed from the blanket and the soft downy thing used to further excite the flames. She held the small child in her arms stroking the head softly as she slowly rocked back and forth, besides her a half empty bottle of whiskey sat in the sand, its lid screwed on haphazardly.

Why? Why had this happened to her? To them? Why? It was the only question she could ask now, what had she ever done to deserve this path, this life that she had been given, just why.

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