Wyrd
02-22-2017, 10:42 AM
There was very little left now, just a faint blur of light smudged through the shadows. It had come upon her quickly as she'd searched the north for her scattered pack, and it had been with vision already blurring, the edges gone to shadow, that she'd managed to retreat here to the safest of the territories she knew with a meticulous thoroughness. She had found none of her children, found no sign of Laufey or of Kapra, of any of the wolves who'd followed her banner, before she'd been forced to give up her search.
Now she waited for the end to come.
Once a graceful, efficient killer, she could do little more than blunder after prey with all the clumsiness of a pup, and so caught very little and that all from ambush. She had lost weight then, but now with no vision left to her even ambush was no longer an option. Little more than skin and bone within a pelt that had gone harsh and brittle.
She reflected now, with a detached sort of interested, that it would have been a fitting punishment, if she had believed it to be crime and punishment which she did not, for having taken the sight from Vereux and that Jupiter wolf so long ago. No, she knew it to not be punishment but rather, the hand of old age laid upon her. She'd expected to have died in battle long before such fate befell her, or to have been safely within the bosom of a Finnvi pack continuing to pass on her accumulated knowledge to the family's young, but such had not been her wyrd.
She had dragged herself from the safety of her hollow-tree den into the sun's heat to bask her bones in its warmth, despite being hardly able to see Sol's light. She'd had the beginning of aches within her joints for some time now, but since her near-death at the jaws of her Finnvi cousins not long ago the aches had worsened, between her age and her current state of improper nutrition her body simply could not bounce back from the injuries she'd sustained then. Stretched out sphynx-like, she raised her dark face to a sun she could not see, and allowed her mind to drift into meditation.
Now she waited for the end to come.
Once a graceful, efficient killer, she could do little more than blunder after prey with all the clumsiness of a pup, and so caught very little and that all from ambush. She had lost weight then, but now with no vision left to her even ambush was no longer an option. Little more than skin and bone within a pelt that had gone harsh and brittle.
She reflected now, with a detached sort of interested, that it would have been a fitting punishment, if she had believed it to be crime and punishment which she did not, for having taken the sight from Vereux and that Jupiter wolf so long ago. No, she knew it to not be punishment but rather, the hand of old age laid upon her. She'd expected to have died in battle long before such fate befell her, or to have been safely within the bosom of a Finnvi pack continuing to pass on her accumulated knowledge to the family's young, but such had not been her wyrd.
She had dragged herself from the safety of her hollow-tree den into the sun's heat to bask her bones in its warmth, despite being hardly able to see Sol's light. She'd had the beginning of aches within her joints for some time now, but since her near-death at the jaws of her Finnvi cousins not long ago the aches had worsened, between her age and her current state of improper nutrition her body simply could not bounce back from the injuries she'd sustained then. Stretched out sphynx-like, she raised her dark face to a sun she could not see, and allowed her mind to drift into meditation.
