ooc:
Setting: Mid-afternoon on the 18th
Location: Mt. Oromocto
Form: Optime (no trophies)
Waking from an afternoon nap with the sun in her eyes and a cool wind to tease her fur should have put the lounging woman in a mood to be merry and busy herself with some joyful craft. Perhaps if not that, then tending to her obsession would have done her good, tasting the fresh water and watching the fish as they tranquilly swam beneath the glassy surface. And there were many other reasons for the she-wolf to smile when she awoke... unfortunately she thought of none of these small pleasures as her eyes opened to the sun and were bitterly forced closed with an irritable growl on her lips.
The sun stun her eyes and she was 'mad' at it. Irrationally so. As if the heavenly body had wronged her in some way she lifted her muzzle and snapped at it in vain as if her teeth would tear a chunk of the blazing body and bring about a sudden night. From her preferred form to the bi-pedal she shifted and rose just as suddenly, her posture not at all kingly but hunched and pained, burden by some ailment she knew all too well from having come of age. But there were not Exultare to vent her frustrations on, nor mate to senselessly drive the heat out of her vexed body. Just the damn sun beating down on her, laughing at the growing pain melting her insides and sending her emotions awry.
Where was a damn tree when she needed one? Where was her sparring partner to burn off her excess energy? She knew this time would eventually come, but like a fool she ignored it... or rather she had assumed her mate would be with her to help her remedy this sickness and more desirably seed the brood she wanted to conceive. But damn the ancestors there was no mate! She again raised her split maw and cried her anguish to the quiet afternoon, disrupting the calm for her selfish favor. Why the hell had he left her despite their promises, despite the future they wanted to usher in together!? Why would he leave so willing a bitch that would have complied with his every whim and bent should only he ask? She could understand it, and truth be told she did not want to. She just wanted to be angry, to feel something to take her frustrations out on in the hopes it would deafen the screaming of her instincts demanding that she take a suitor and breed.
Snarling at none but herself, she shot a quivering hand through her untamed mane and viciously combed through til the knocks were pulled and tresses were managed. There was no purpose for it other than to do it, just as there was no reason for her to march the mountain facade when a calm, tender step would have done just as well. "... may the ancestors damn you..." she snarled with the vision of her past mate in her mind. "May they shadow your steps from hence forth and curse you as you've cursed me..."
Never had she wished ill on anyone and she knew that in her heart this was not the words of her calmed self, but the true self coming forth now that the civilized defense had faltered to the overpowering will of instinct. She despised talking out of spite, but how it 'calmed' her to do so. She never wished to maim another without just cause... but how it 'soothed' her to imagine rending fur and flesh from muscle and bone from the very body that left her alone and wanting. But this was madness! And she knew it! And she was shameful and glad for it all the same. But she had to gain control, she had to find sense. But above all else... she needed to find a tree, one strong and sturdy that would stand against the relentless blows she had every intention of dealing.
And she needed it.
Now.