Absinth's nightmares were a relentless descent into madness. They were twisted chronicles of cruelty and manipulation that her father had woven around her since childhood. Recurrent. The edges shrouded, her vision within her dreams tunneled and focused on only the very worst aspects. The memories were like festering wounds that refused to heal, oozing with the venom of her father's sadistic tendencies whenever she entertained them. Horrid things they were. Unescapable.

His malevolence had burrowed deep within her psyche, a dark seed that had grown into a gnarled thicket of fear and loathing. She could always feel his eyes on her, that predatory gaze which stripped away any semblance of safety she felt. Always. No matter how far she got away. How far she ran. At first she told herself that she had not run from him, had not been disobedient – that it was all his own insanity. But in the end she had to accept the fact that she had. She really had escaped him. And now he was here.

The scars of her upbringing manifested in every strained breath of strenuous activity and every semblance of liquid fire that coursed through her veins when she was emotional. His abuse had become an inescapable part of her being — a stain that tainted every piece of her life. The darkness within her father seemed to have seeped into the very marrow of her own bones, turning her into a living embodiment of the nightmares she had endured. His every word had twisted her mind. Corrupted her. Defiled her soul. He was in her. Unwashable. Unable to be purged.

He was her own personal monster. A being of pleasure and obsession. But why did he have to be so set on her?

On this particular night, as the moon hung high in the sky, Absinth found herself restless and afraid to sleep. The forest seemed too still, the night too quiet. She longed for the thrill of the hunt, the exhilaration of the chase, anything to break the monotony of her existence – the anxiety of being prey herself. A fight was what she needed, maybe? Fuck, she’d perferred the infestation of the Sound, where polar bears constantly sought out her hide for their bedding. Anything but the echoes of her nightmares.

With a soft sigh, Absinth padded silently through the underbrush, her senses alert for any sign of life. Any. Really. Aresenn was probably off doing something for Sephiran, damn that bastard. Yarrabelle was… recovering. She didn’t want to think about that. So. What else was there to do?

It wasn't long before she caught the scent of another wolf on the breeze, a familiar scent that made her heart quicken with anticipation. Following the trail, seeking the company of one of her packmates, wondering what her dear Elysia’s brother was like. It was a distraction, one she was willing to welcome.


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Ezekiel enjoys the nighttime as he finds a strange solace in the calls and patterns of the creatures that wander during the darkness. A low hanging mist curls around his paws with each step he takes, dissipating momentarily as he plants one paw before the other. Overhead, the stars shine brightly from their inky prison while a huge, bright moon lights his way as he slowly meanders through the moor and he passes through the world with barely a whisper to mark his passing.

A soft rustling from behind him has Zeke pulling to a stop, duel-toned eyes darting behind him as the monochrome form of Absinth suddenly appears. Lips pull into a small smirk as he inclines his head, silently extending an invitation to join him on this splendid evening. Even while others sleep, there are patrols that still need to be run, predators that must be held at bay and the young man is happy to have some company with him as he goes.

As she approaches, deep, velvety tones softly greet her with warmth, “Absinth. El speaks very highly of you. Glad to finally be able to meet you.” Words are strangely kind as he speaks; he knows that Ely is fond of this woman so Ezekiel decides to be civil… for her sake. Once the woman has reached his side, the purple-streaked man starts to slowly walk again, eyes scanning the area before them while the ear closest to the monochrome woman swivels to pull in any words she may offer.


"Ezekiel Saxe"

Code © Skelle/Witchdogtor DO NOT USE WITHOUT PERMISSION

Absinth felt a good bit of satisfaction as she caught sight of Ezekiel amidst the night's embrace, his form a welcome sight against the night’s landscape. He paused in his patrol, as though beckoning her to join him.

Returning his small smirk with a nod of acknowledgment, Absinth approached Ezekiel with a sense of bold curiosity. His words, though unexpected, carried sincerity that she hadn't anticipated from the man. Though, it wasn’t as though they had ever interacted one-on-one before. “The fabled Ezekiel,” She replied, her voice low but steady, betraying none of the turmoil that churned within her, offering to him instead all of her inherent impish delight. The mention of Elysia had brought a flicker of warmth to Absinth's otherwise guarded expression. “El speaks highly of her beloved brother as well.” She admitted, a faint hint of a smirk touching her lips. Despite the tensions that often lingered between members of their Syndicate (fucking Rhazien), there was a sense of truce in their shared affection for Elysia. At the very least, he hadn’t pissed her off yet.

As they began to move together through the moonlit Moor, Absinth's senses remained alert, attuned to the subtle shifts in the night around them. Her paranoia not fully gone yet, she chose instead to focus on the brute at her side and ask a new question. “What do you think of the whole half-sibling-siblings thing? It’s fucking ridiculous, but here we are.” How the fuck did it even make sense? Her half siblings were Elysia and Ezekiel’s half siblings as well. Fucking slut of a father Absinth had. How many kids was that now?
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