03-10-2009, 07:27 PM
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Though her den was now set up, Aurèle was not one to be found there during the night. She remained on the same pattern she had been living with for three years now. When she had first left, following the fire, she had not needed to change this.
The night terrors convinced her otherwise.
So she had, for three years, become almost exclusively nocturnal. She traveled by starlight and the moon, and could find her way through the pitch black that seemed to frighten others. Now, with the glow of a full moon at her back, the pale woman might have been a ghost or specter, if only for her color and the hell-fire in her eyes. She walked without trepidation and followed instinct and impulse, as she always had.
A scent suddenly triggered a flash of a terrible memory and she stopped dead in her tracks. For one terrible moment she was frozen in that place—a wave of emotions broke over her face, twisting it from horror to a twisted snarl, and then she looked up to the moon and remembered the cold and felt nothing. Her head turned down minutes later and she exhaled, then approached the source. The composure she refused to let fall remained placid as she found the source, and a woman she did not recognize.
Though her den was now set up, Aurèle was not one to be found there during the night. She remained on the same pattern she had been living with for three years now. When she had first left, following the fire, she had not needed to change this.
The night terrors convinced her otherwise.
So she had, for three years, become almost exclusively nocturnal. She traveled by starlight and the moon, and could find her way through the pitch black that seemed to frighten others. Now, with the glow of a full moon at her back, the pale woman might have been a ghost or specter, if only for her color and the hell-fire in her eyes. She walked without trepidation and followed instinct and impulse, as she always had.
A scent suddenly triggered a flash of a terrible memory and she stopped dead in her tracks. For one terrible moment she was frozen in that place—a wave of emotions broke over her face, twisting it from horror to a twisted snarl, and then she looked up to the moon and remembered the cold and felt nothing. Her head turned down minutes later and she exhaled, then approached the source. The composure she refused to let fall remained placid as she found the source, and a woman she did not recognize.