Demons

She had thinned, her bodice revealing just the barest hint of her rib cage. Shockingly gold oculars had dulled if only slightly, her coat had lost a touch of its shimmer and even her movements had forgone a bit of that grace and fluidity, replacing them almost sluggishly, slowing down. The multi-hued hued fae dipped her cranium, tongue lapping at the cool waters, she could not quench her thirst and she didn't have the stomach to eat nor the energy to hunt even if she wished it. This was the very same spot that she had found Gerhardt up to his neck in the frigid cold of winter and ever since their conversation she had been... ill. She knew of no other way to describe her state of disorganization.

She was a meticulous creature, every scenario, every ploy was calculated, figured and well thought out before she so much as batted an eyelash. She knew when she awoke in the mornings what her goals were for the day, granted she always left room for those wretched what if moments, but she had always been a creature with a plan, an idea. She didn't act impulsively or without question, never had, never would.

She wasn't sure why she had shared such a secretive part of herself with Gerhardt, she had never been much for speech but when he was around... she felt relaxed, comfortable, like he would never forsake her no matter what fell from her lips, it was strange to trust someone so greatly in such a short period of time, especially for her, she wasn't sure what to make of it... even if her words had inadvertently helped him sort out his own decisions regarding his ex-wife, they also had forced her to face the truth. She abandoned Glinda, she left her alone, she had forsaken the only creature who had ever cared for her, and that guilt coupled with the doubt and confusion she felt towards Gerhardt was slowly wearing her down.

She had eaten... two? Three days ago? She couldn't recall, she was still performing her duties, she spoke with the pack when necessary but she was becoming withdrawn on her days off, like this one. She lifted her head from the stream, her stomach churning the water and making her suddenly queasy, she turned and stumbled, nearly falling as her claws flexed into the dirt catching herself. A curse in the form of a snarl escaped her, it was soft, barely there, she was exhausted, she just wanted to make it back to her den. With determined eyes, she slowly stalked back to the underground cavern she called home.



Speech!