hey, victim

Eris Eternity · 04-28-2011, 04:37 AM

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Setting: Halifax, very near to edge of DdM territory <3

Time: Late afternoon

Character Form: Optime

Word Count » 392

my road to hell is surely paved

She did not know who Conor Soul was; the cream-colored wolf's name was unknown to her. Still, she thought of him and the other man, the red-eyed man the color of desert sand, and what she had seen. Polymorphous shadow, indescribably black and seeming to swallow all other air and light and depth from the entirety of the world, had leapt from the sand-shaded wolf's chest and slithered to her, silent and roaring all at once. She had seen this shadow but once before, reflected in the baby blue eyes of a man who had been dead almost a year now. It was in his blood, sure as anything.

Larkspur hadn't spoken to her of Haku for a long time. Eris was not stupid and she knew Larkspur was not stupid enough to fail to realize what had happened between her and Haku. He must have known the first night they'd met, of course. Still, before the children, before their awkward closeness, there had been talk of the blue-eyed man. He had shared that he had lived in Dahlia de Mai with Haku himself, once upon a time, and he had shared that the coyotes had waged war on them. The hybrid must have missed that, and she was very nearly glad for it. Had she met Haku in a time of siege, she might very well be a casualty of war.

Still, he had owned this territory before. She lurked just outside of the Dahlian borders, having spent most of the day in Halifax collecting. She had filled a tattered cloth satchel with bits and pieces, odds and ends. None of it was remotely useful; most of it was junk and garbage. She wanted it anyway. The hybrid now stood at a safe distance from the edge of claimed territory, staring into the Dahlian claim. He had owned this once; perhaps he would reign over it again someday. The darkness in him had evaded death -- of that she was certain.

A breeze took her thick, unkempt mane with it, drawing her scent toward the Dahlians. She snorted in dismay, and turned to move, not wishing to be interrupted by a nosy scout thinking she was seeking to join; she was not defecting from Anathema to simply accept another leadership's yolk. Others would wear her yolk; Sirius would see to that.

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