anesthetized

[Riot]

[html]» The ecstasy of ice.

Riot's graying body blew like a tendril of thick smoke across the wind. Her heart struggled to keep up with the mad drum of footsteps as she wound through the hunting glen, at times, appearing to pass straight through trees like a ghost. It was an illusion created by the coyote's agile footwork, quick reflexes, and crystal-clear sight. As scarred, battered, and bruised as the lady was she held on to her vitality with steel claws. Here on the dawn of a new day she reveled in the luxury of satiated hunger, for the lands of the Bleeding Souls were well-stocked even in the dead of winter. Earlier she had gone on a successful killing spree and the blood of her prey still etched its way across her face like a painting. She could feel blood crusting between her toes even as she tore through the snowy forest. Riot's feet brought her to the edge of the woodlands and onto the beach where she stopped and her tongue proceeded to hang decoratively from reddened jaws. The female felt numb which was a welcome cover-up of the rage and torment beneath her heart's surface. Numbness was her gnarled, putrid happiness. She relished the freedom of feeling nothing at all. Riot lacked a smile in the frosted morning light that split the darkness from the horizon.

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