One less shadow

Alyssum de Fonte · 05-27-2012, 09:23 PM

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Word Count → 532

Blood rushed through her veins as she was tackled, lips curling in a snarl as the councilman attempted to snap down on her shoulder, muzzle, throat—anything to put her down, if for a moment or eternity. Anger pulsed through her being as her gaze shifted to the faces of disbelief as she was declared banished for treason for speaking the truth. The most vivid feeling of all was the absolute chilling numbness that settled over her as she whispered to her mother, her parting words barely fitting for a farewell. She thought she imagined the woman calling after her as she turn and ran, refusing for an escort to guide her, refusing to turn around to confirm her thoughts. Alyssum, Alyssum…. Aly, Aly…

“Aly”, Macbeth chirped again, preening and tugging on her messy mane.
The de Fonte opened her eyes momentarily only to turn her face away from the magpie, closing her sea foam gaze once more though she was not attempting to go back to sleep. It had been awhile since she had any sort of dream; visions of the past that haunted her sleep, and thought with false hope that perhaps that they would finally stop, so much time passing that it would be illogical for her mind to continue to make her restless with the apparitions. But, it was just another pause in the nightly fits that she experienced, and though she never allowed them to get to her, found them very stressful. She considered for a moment of dozing off, but again the bird nagged her: “Aly, get up. Report, not good news.”

Alyssum huffed, rubbing her face with her hands for a moment, and then started to tug off the rope that was wrapped around her, the only thing that kept her from tumbling to the ground from the tree she slept in. Despite the conversation she had with Adelle, she still chose to rest in the trees, at least until she got a better grip of the land around her and the Fort. “Macbeth saw wolf.” “Yeah, so?” The magpie regarded curiously, not used to having her use such a hostile tone with him, but he continued. “Wolf bloody. Casa member nearby, not happy. Red female is sad.” The hybrid perked up and started to clamber down the tree the moment he mentioned blood, and Macbeth took to the air, leading her to where he saw the event.

Her heart pumping in her chest, she finally came across to the scene, and even she had to gulp at the sight she saw. An unknown woman lay dead on the floor, and a doggish hybrid that looked just like her was standing over the body, wounds covering her as well. Not sure what to make heads or tails of it, she cautiously asked when the other became aware of her presence, “What happened here?” She scented that the woman was a Cavalier, but bonds could only go so far with instinct; if she was still hostile, angered, scared, whatever caused her to gain those wounds, she may attack the de Fonte herself, but she was tensed, ready if the woman were to jump at her suddenly.

Code by the Mentors; photo courtesy to Olli38

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