Baby Please?

N/A · 07-09-2013, 02:22 AM

Desdemona ached. Everything hurt. Her pack...her ate...her home, she hadn't seen them in near half a season and her heart, her very soul yearned for its return. She was heavy with pups, her abdomen distended almost to the point of making her immobile, their birth delayed more than likely by her sheer force of will, or at least this is what she told herself to prevent her mind from plummeting down a path of self doubt and depression. She was stronger than this. She was better than this. She could survive and she would persevere as she always did. She would simply be wounded for quite some time, hopefully, Nnoitra had not seen her absence as abandonment, hopefully none of them had.

She had left for Ludicael, to learn a bit more about the pack, to understand more of their ways and logic, it never hurt to gain information, especially with those within a days walking distance. It was better to at least be at an agreeable peace than a war of blood and guts. She had been close when she had scented them on the wind. It was rare that Desdemona felt fear, but she had felt it then and she had known from the moment the taste of that scent hit her tongue that she was screwed, and quite possibly the life of her pups. She was too far from Tortuga to seek hide, and not close enough to Ludicael to possibly mask her scent among its own. They would find her and find her they had.

It had been almost surreal to see those wolves after so long. Her old pack, the blood thirsty mongrels, not all of them of course, but a sizable scouting party. Massive, monstrous wolves that could send her a challenge for her height and her weight, six of them had come for her and just as always they came as a unit, a single, solid, driving force of power and muscle and she had stood no chance. Attack after attack, blow after blow, she had shielded her belly to the best of her ability accepting the snaps, the snarls, the bites and the gouges as if they were nothing. They had taunted, teased, snapped and snarled at her, they tortured her for days and finally, for the second time in her life, they left her broken, bleeding and unable to walk. Her plume had been snapped, the back half dangled lifelessly now, paralyzed beyond repair, a chunk of her left ear vanished, slashes that had scraped along her ribs, bites across her limbs left punctures exposed to the summer sky, her neck and maw slashed open, her pelt was stained a nasty shade of reddish brown. Her hind right limb had been snapped and she had been left unable to do much more than limp.

A rogue healer had seen to the more brutal of wounds and had helped her, had even brought her food a few times but had been far too skittish to help, and as she grew more plump, it became more and more difficult for her to heal,, as soon as she was able to walk, she took off towards Tortuga, the shy rogue vanishing as quickly as he had come. The trek had taken her numerous days, her leg throbbed, her injuries protested and pain laced through her bodice, and still she kept walking, she had to get home.

She reached the bottom of Tortuga's territory but she doubted she could scale the mountains without aide, collapsing to the floor, desperate eyes sought a flash of ivory fur, the coat of her lover, her soul mate, his was the only face she wished to see. A howl filled with anguished sorrow and barely there hope colored the air, speaking of one name alone. Demonio.

Speech,

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