[/html]It was not the first time the panic had come. She could see that there was no danger and nothing physical to fight against or flee from, but her body reacted otherwise. Adrenaline filled her veins and quickened her pulse, feeding the tightness in her chest until the weight became tangible and she would have sworn that it was possible to tear it out, whatever it was. Cassandra parted her slender maw to suck in air, but it did little to steel her nerves. She wanted desperately to run, but the warmth around her and the scent that enveloped the room were the safest things she knew.
She could not cry again, but pride seemed a faraway and silly preoccupation, as did the rationality of what she saw, staring forward. There was nothing there. There hadn't been in a long time. The heavy breathing was only her own, and there was no physical weight pressed against her. There was no rain falling. There was no background jeering and taunting. The echoing voices were memories only, and they were from a long time ago. Her free hand clutched at the furs they sat upon, nails nearing digging through the dried skin underneath, and for many long seconds, she said nothing and only breathed, sucking in air through her open mouth like a dying fish.
"I should have never told him," her voice muttered, though she did not know how the words fit in between her urgent breathing. "None of it would have happened if I hadn'tif--if I hadn't." She'd seduced him, he'd said, as he lay dying. It had been her fault. Not a goddess. Just a witch. "If I hadn't told him."
| Messages In This Thread |