The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
#1
Date: 8 oct
Place: Arachnea's Revenge
WC: 442
Wotd: crasis

Her calf hurt like nothing she had felt before. It hadn't been so bad when she had been standing at the top of a broken city and gazed on the destruction left by the storm. That had been exhilarating despite the pain, shutting all of it out. The contents, ingredients of the place remained unchanged, but it was the crasis that was altered. The chaos had helped her realize what must happen - the remains of her mother had been washed away, likely out to sea in the deep ridges of Demon's Trail. She'd forgotten about everything for a moment when she found the empty place. Now it was a different ache that rid her. Not to mention that for some reason, an injury was increasingly painful awhile after sustaining it, rather than right after it happened.

The tiny female grunted as Emwe halted and dropped her off him. He had been silent for most of their trek so far, aside from trying to convince her that she needed to get to a pack and whatnot. He'd been increasingly silent after she refused to seek out the packs nearby. She would rather not face any relatives, nor would she like to face traitors who had contributed to the demise of Dahlia de Mai either. He had complied to carrying her where she wanted, but with a silence that she suspected stemmed from sheer annoyance. He was not one to raise his voice towards her though. Not anymore.

His four-legged, scarred form trotted over to a tiny stream to have a drink, and she merely watched him with disdain. Such a pitiful thing he was, one tooth hanging out and his tongue lolling if he didn't make a keen effort to keep it inside. She almost admired his burnt muzzle though, but the feeling soon subsided. She sat rubbing her calf, which was swollen and blue, sometimes glancing at Emwe, who had by then laid down for a rest. She didn't see how he'd need it; she hardly weighed anything. It was strange how much a porous roof could injure a single person by just falling at a gust of wind. Or, she had underestimated the weather, rather. But she'd never admit to that.

"Honestly, Emwe. What do you intend to do, ask Inferni for help or something?" It was an amusing idea, and she snorted as the scenario played out in her mind. He didn't seem to think that it was amusing, though, and he didn't reply. One hand absent-mindedly traced the little scars she kept from her encounter with Sepirah, the other rubbed her calf. It would be good to rest sometime.


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