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Word Count → 356
Alyssum watched as she tore the metal from the woman’s throat, and felt the familiar chill run down her back, even though she was not the one pulling the blade. She knew the feeling well enough, having killed a few herself with her dagger and had to retrieve her weapon in the end. It was never a wonderful experience, and whatever victory she had felt when she defeated her foe, crumbled when she had to face with the reality of what she had done.
The coywolf remained silent as she spoke that the body was her mother, only taking one last glance towards the thing that was once Neela’s dame. Though she emphasized, she knew words could fall on deaf ears. The ”I’m sorry”s and other meaningless phrases were not spoken by Alyssum during such times as the one they were going through. Instead, she helped the woman up when she grasped her hand, the other patting the amber-eyed wolfdog gently on the back to silently express her condolences.
The de Fonte noted her confusion when she had offered her hand, and thought she may as well explain herself as well. “I was in a small war once, between these two territorial packs, so I’m used to this. I saw brothers having to kill one another, children having to fight against their parents. I didn’t have family there myself,” she admitted, though continued, “but, my comrades were close to me, and their pain was my pain. It was hard to see the related fallen when you saw their face reminded you of your friends.” But, it was long ago, or at least it seemed, and she had matured and grown to become detached to her feelings when it came to things like this, and she was no different now.
“What do you wish to do with the body?” Alyssum asked after an adequate amount of time. She doubted that anyone would enjoy having a body on the pack lands, but she was unsure if Neela wanted it to remain out in the open as well outside of the borders, considering that this person was her mother.
Code by the Mentors; photo courtesy to Olli38
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