See? I use it! LOL BTW, I have a nifty plot for Azizi and gavin, if San agrees. I'll put it up for consideration at UW. I also have an idea for Queen Emo/Luci/some yote I'll PM you about. 558 words
Two mates, two dens. That didn't seem right to the mother, but Lucifer wouldn't let her in his den. He'd pushed her away at the hunt. He'd never stopped pushing her away. She ached damnably; she loved the male so damn much, and he kept pushing her away. Her den was clear on the other side of the cavern; she had natural rocky shelves for her few books she'd hidden away. there were more at her den in the city, but that was really only somepalce for her to hide out. She wished she was there now; she felt as if all the pack knew of her and kucifer's seperation. Not only that, but she felt as if the Great Mother, Dierdre's grandmother, hated her. She understood why, but still...
She sighed heavilly, aching. She'd laid out a soft blanket she'd found in her human den on the floor, along with pillows, making her den as comfortable as she could. But it was still cold and empty without her mate and son. She hadn't seen Shadow in a long time; she figured his wandering spirit got the best of him; painful as it was, it happened all the time. She sat in her den, staring at the celing of the cavern. She was lonely and miserable.
She rolled onto her stomach, pulling out her notebook. She flipped to a blank page and began sketching. It was Lucifer, the way he'd looked when she'd professed her love for him, before he'd admitted what he'd done to Deirdre. As she sketched furiously, more dertails came to mind. Behind Lucifer were two figures, one more indistinct than the other. One was meant to be summer, the other noah. Both gazed at Lucifer with Pride and love in their eyes. And then she moved her foucs to the figure in his arms, and her own ghosts. She hesitated, then drew a triad of faces behind her. One small pup's face, the male she'd killed, and her pale daughter. All ghostly. The faces of Shadow and Diedre were half hidden, but loving. the face of Erik was twisted with hate as he seemed to glare balefully at the viewer. She continued to feverishly fill in details, then flipped to a new page, her pencil flying over the page. Coming into gradual view was the form of Erik, staring at a Queen Emo, holding a dripping blade, her mane wild and knotted, her eyes glazed and unseeing.
She let the pencil fall from her fingers, her eyes staring into space as memories overtook her. She shuddered. So many of her problems stemmed from that night. So many trust issues, so many nightmares. He'd hurt her that night, hurt her bad enough she'd drunk herself into insenibility to deal with it. A drink sounded good now. She kicked her journal into a corner of her den, striding to her open pack and pulling out a bottle of whiskey from her stash. She opened it, taking a deep swig. The alchohol burned on it's way down, making her cough. but damn, did it feel good. She walked back to her 'bed', sitting down and taking another deep drink. She was beginning to feel good...if not good, better than before. |
