08-18-2010, 07:16 AM
Thank you so much for the table, I absolutely love it! <3<3<3 Set in Halifax.
[html]
[/html]
[html]
A wise man once said that a journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. For Marika, that step had been taken a long time ago, when she'd made a conscious decision to strike out from her family and make her own fortunes in the world. Everything had been perfect back then and now, standing in a dingy bar and looking at the whisky bottle in front of her, the wolfess considered herself foolish for believing things would stay the same. Still, with the piquant alcohol flowing freely through her veins, she didn't feel quite like wallowing in misery so much. It numbed the pain of her wounds, both physical and emotional, and made her feel dumbed down, simpler somehow. If she couldn't feel the pain, then she could forget.
As she walked out of the dingy bar, everything seemed coated with a nauseous sheen. It had been a while since Marika had felt this woozy and although drinking was a Russo family trait if ever there existed one, she hadn't quite mastered the art of stopping while ahead. Still, it was nice to feel the burn of the drink in her stomach and because the sun wasn't glaring, her eyes had stopped hurting as much. Marika put down her satchel and took out the panpipes. After all she had been through, it was surprising they were still in one piece. Her fingers delicately stroked the soft wood and just in that gesture she could remember the gypsies she missed so much now. "One day I can return. One day." Her voice sounded hoarse from drink, but for someone who had been accustomed to music and laughter - and traded that for utter silence - even the dry rasping noises from her throat were an angelic choir. Marika smiled to herself, lost in memories of a place she had once called home.
As she walked out of the dingy bar, everything seemed coated with a nauseous sheen. It had been a while since Marika had felt this woozy and although drinking was a Russo family trait if ever there existed one, she hadn't quite mastered the art of stopping while ahead. Still, it was nice to feel the burn of the drink in her stomach and because the sun wasn't glaring, her eyes had stopped hurting as much. Marika put down her satchel and took out the panpipes. After all she had been through, it was surprising they were still in one piece. Her fingers delicately stroked the soft wood and just in that gesture she could remember the gypsies she missed so much now. "One day I can return. One day." Her voice sounded hoarse from drink, but for someone who had been accustomed to music and laughter - and traded that for utter silence - even the dry rasping noises from her throat were an angelic choir. Marika smiled to herself, lost in memories of a place she had once called home.
table by kahilli