[html] out of character out of character
For Talitha; sorry for the wait, I was sick the last couple days. ;o;
in character in character
It was all she could do not to cry out in frustration. Her daughter, her own daughter, was touched by that monster. Sure, he was gone now, but she had let it happen. There was a reason Gabriel had sent them all away, a reason that Faolin had taken the pups with her. It was to ensure nothing stupid would happen, even though she could not imagine anything like this to happen. It was the war they had been worried about the entire time when really, the problem was within their own species. What could she have done even if she went and tore off after Talitha? The woman shrugged, could have at least dragged her back home and chained her up, but that would not solve any problems. Only would have made the situation worse perhaps. What she needed to concentrate on now was getting her daughter back into shape. The girl had grown frail both in mind and body, so Faolin thought, the least she could do was help her daughter through this. Did she dare say anything about her own past? Or, wait for a better time, if there ever was a time, before sharing those dreaded memories with her own daughter. Would it give her hope? or only put her in more pain?
Crimson eyes stared down at the dirt in front of her as she trotted along at a steady pace. She had woken up before the sun started to rise and decided she would get some fresh kill for her daughter. The entire time distracted by thoughts of her, her family, Andrezej, and Inferni altogether. Faolin lifted her eyes up to the sky above her, why could they not be fair to her daughter? Why had they put her through this? Faolin was not one to believe in any sort of higher power, not after what had happened to her, and now her daughter. If there was a God, why put them through so much? There was only so much she could handle before she snapped. It was all her fault, not the fault of some great being above them, getting his kicks out of seeing their pain. Maybe it could have been a test of sorts? Maybe good things would come from this. Andrezej was dead, there was no more extra worry filling her heart and every movement. He was gone, gone for good. The only thing that troubled her mind now was, could there be something worse? That answer was clear and simple, yes, there always was, but whether they happened upon the large band of hybrids and coyotes was another thing.
To engrossed in her thoughts the queen had not realized she was standing now, not moving at all, just standing on the warm sands of the beach. It was so different yet so alike Hell's Coast. It did not have quite the same feel to it, memories did not plague her every step anymore. It gave room for new memories and for the old ones not to come back and haunt her so often. Faolin gave a shake of her fur to release the dust in debris from her coat that had fallen from her hunting. The rabbit laid limp, tucked firmly in her jaws. She let out a long sigh dropping the rabbit before lifting her muzzle up towards the sky and letting out a long, coyote yip-like howl, releasing all stresses from her body and letting them go into that one hauntingly, beautiful song.
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</style> [ooc] i've been dancing on the tops of buildings
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[bic] at the top of my lungs, i'm singing you a song
Compared to a wolf's song, the call of a coyote was nothing more than screeching fingernails on chalkboards. That was why Talitha had never howled; the sound of her own scratchy, throaty yipping, with no true classification, was hard on her own ears. She winced a little when she heard the sound caress the air, and if there was ever one reason she would have preferred being a pureblood wolf, it would have been to be graced with their haunting voices. Nonetheless, she turned in the direction of the yipping call and, slowly, proceeded. Everything she did was carefully thought out, slow, and deliberate. Health and weight had returned to her at an alarming rate since the death of Andrezej, but even then she was haunted by the memory of him standing in the corners of her vision, plagued with nightmares about the rape, about the death of the man, and the spraying blood. Nightmares about curled fists and rough fingers and touches that pleased naught.
She couldn't get rid of them, even though he was dead. She had watched him die with her own eyes, had seen him lie there several days and now, knew that a stone marked his resting place. Talitha was not offended by the final act of peace upon his body; he was the last surviving relative of Rachias short of Laruku and they had stolen him from her. Talitha, though she would never admit it, would have been terribly heartbroken if Ezekiel was taken away from her. The Lykoi didn't want to think about her brother dying, though, and shut the thoughts out as if they needed to be snuffed out by her own mental wind.
It turned out it was Faolin on the sands, and Talitha's step lengthened until she stood by her mother's side, tail waving gently back and forth. She had mixed feelings about her mother returning to Inferni — after all, it was Talitha's fault she'd come back, leaving Ezekiel behind, but at the same time she was more than glad that the strong woman had returned — and therefore had found it increasingly awkward to be with her in one space with no other people to distract either of them. What could she possibly say? Had she never run away to return to Inferni and had she obeyed Gabriel and Anselm in the first place, she never would have had any issues with Andrezej, at least not while being held hostage. She supposed there was no way of telling whether she would have been violated no matter how things had turned out; he had clearly been hunting for her.
She didn't say anything, however. He eyes remained fixed upon the water and the way the sunlight danced over the surface, hesitant but strangely alluring, but she kept her words in her mouth. She didn't know where to begin, and couldn't figure out whether an apology was in order or not. Instead of struggling with it, the Lykoi opted for silence; she hoped her mother would understand.
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[html] out of character out of character
And then I managed to get grounded. ;o;
in character in character
Given that she was at least twenty-five per cent coyote, Faolin had a strange mix of the two. When she was pained or upset the call came out as more of a couple of yips with some kind of howl attached. Of course, it was a given her howl would never be quite as beautiful as her mother's or previous grandparents before that on the wolf side. It was hardly ever a time she cried out with such emotions. Her voice was already hoarse from the crying and lack of doing anything let alone talking. The last few days went by in a blur and she could hardly remember anything anymore. It was like a bad dream that was repeating itself over and over in her mind. A video playing on a loop that never stopped. It was her own downfall, something that she had hidden in her own mind, but the wound had been freshly opened with the rape her daughter experienced. Faolin shuddered, regretting the fact she did not in fact push Andrezej from the cliff that day.
Faolin was distracted by the approaching footsteps and did not even turn her head to see who it was. It could have been anyone really, but if they were really hunting her they would have chose a more silent way to approach. It was only when the other creature approached her that she realized who it was by scent and she breathed in that scent. The air filled her lungs completely and she closed her eyes thinking back to the day Ezekiel and Talitha laid curled up at her belly. Back when things were so much simpler, well not too much, but a war was no where close to what Faol thought would happen. They had always managed to somehow work out before any real bloodshed had happened. The woman swallowed hard as she felt the heat coming off her daughters body from the short distance between them. Red eyes stared out across the ocean, following Talitha's gaze and tracing the horizon.
The silence was soothing, neither knowing what to say to the other. Nothing was awkward about it, but Faolin had felt like she needed to say something. Apologize for the whole mess and bringing her in to it. The woman had so many chances to kill Andrezej, but was always in a position where she could not. First off she had been pregnant and then secondly, where he swore he would get Talitha, her babies had been there and she was not going to attack the male and leave an opening between him and her children. If only she hunted him down sooner, it would have made things so much easier. Why couldn't he have been the one that died in the fire instead of Arkham? Poor Rachias, she must have been heartbroken and it seemed the two had drifted away from each other.
"I'm sorry, Talitha," Faolin's voice was a choked whisper, it nearly broke but she held it firmly enough so she would not break down in front of her daughter. Was she not supposed to be the strong one? She was supposed to be there for her and comfort her. Faolin hardly wanted to be babied after her own experience, at least that's what she thought. In the back of her mind she always knew she just wanted to curl up inside someone's arms and cry her lungs out. It was a horrible feeling and she did not like it at all. She turned her eyes towards her daughter and sighed, looking the aging girl up and down. She had missed so much of her daughter's development and swore she would not waste another second.
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You didn't do anything, she immediately answered. She didn't look into the twin eyes of her mother, choosing the ocean over that pained expression that no doubt lingered there. Talitha hadn't known that one of Andrezej's aims had been to kill her, to throw her father into such a fit that he would die. Andre had been a weird coyote, with a strangely cunning strategy for things but no sanity or reason with which to look over his aims; that much, she had known. Any coyote that was so unfavoured in Gabriel's eyes to get chucked out of the clan was unforgivably evil, but she would bet anything that Andre's plans had been, in his head, fulfilled.
He had robbed her, at least, of something precious, even though she didn't know it much made a difference. She was thankfully too young for it to effect her very well, and it hadn't worked as flawlessly as the dead coyote would have liked because of that, but he had seriously misjudged her age as well.
She finally did turn her head a little to her mother, with her ears moving back for every half inch her head turned. If it had been your fault, you'd be the one in the sand. Simple truth, as cynical and morbid as that was. If her mother had been at fault, if it had been Faolin who had inspired Andre's attacks, nobody would have let her live, either. She would corrupt another to do the same; that wasn't the case.
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