i've got this half moon

Vesper · 03-17-2012, 10:27 PM

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Open to one clan mate. Ves needs a hug or
something like that. It'd be cool if a friend showed up; anyone else might experience a bit of tongue-lashing or empty staring. >> She's in optime. +5

The scarred woman had been a fool to think she was impervious to pain; not the pain of an open gash or broken bone, but the pain that got in your chest and wracked the breaths from your body and dragged you down to depths deep enough to make you question your ability to stand again. She knew that she would stand, knew that she would heal from this in time, but that she was so affected by this, so weakened, made her want to scream in frustration. She had killed a boy, she had survived more than one attempt on her life, and yet she had been cut down by the passing of a she-wolf she by all accounts shouldn’t care about.

Blind was a wolf, an outsider, a face she had resigned herself to never seeing again ever since their lives diverged. But Vesper would not hesitate to throw everything away for the chance to hear her voice.

No, it’s stupid, and you only think that because you know it isn’t possible. Dull blue eyes opened. Her forehead was leaned against a tree, her body hunched, her expression resigned. You know you’ll stop feeling like shit if you give it time. Everyone heals. She sighed and pulled away, her claws tracing the scars in the bark. The soft frown on her face did not waver or deepen or fade. You aren’t the first luperci to lose someone you love. You didn’t even love her, didn’t know her.

But she thought she had, sometimes, when she was delirious with happiness and the girl was in her arms. That emotion had faded with time too, however, as she grew more dedicated to Inferni and opened her eyes to others who were more present, easier to protect. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that she might have come to love Blind had they run off together like the girl had pleaded what seemed like eons ago. But that was a “would have” and that was even worse to obsess about than the physical past.

The Optio turned and walked, moving among the trees, giving the mansion a wide berth, stepping numbly. Spring sunlight fell upon her and the earth, bringing out all the new scents that would grow stronger and richer as time went on. She reasoned that the aroma of flowerbuds and grass should make her feel happy, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile.

“Boy.” The croaked voice made her lift her blue gaze to the raven perched on the branch of an old tree. They regarded each other in silence before the bird nudged something at his claws; her pale hand reached out to catch the piece of meat as it fell. Squirrel—she hated squirrel. “Boy eating now,” Stark murmured. “Too skinny, too sad. Spring coming. Working soon, no useless lump.”

She shrugged, her sharp claws tearing off a small morsel of the stringy flesh and popping into her mouth. She chewed, glad that her inevitable sadness took the flavor out of everything.

“Vesper,” the raven said after a moment, and her half-mast ears snapped upward as her jaw went slack. He never referred to her by her name. The usage had gotten her attention like he wanted, however, so he went on. “Stark losing friend too. Stark knowing and boy knowing all things pass.”

And he flapped away. She chewed on the second and last mouthful of squirrel and picked the bits of fur from her teeth with a claw. Then she went walking again, not caring about where she stepped, not caring about anything but the soreness of her chest and the ache of her eyes. All things passed, but like souls they passed at their own time.

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