Quiet Contemplation
07-10-2013, 01:03 PM
They tended to forget what she really was, what she had been molded and formed to become. She was no innocent creature of laughter and light, she was a warrior, trained in the harshest of climates and shaped to be a killer. Arkhein. That name still brought a jolt of something indescribable careening down her spine. From the tender age of one they had found her, scooped her up and made her apart of their militia, she was smaller than most of its warriors, but she utilized every advantage she could. She had never gained the blood-thirsty mentality of her fellow pack mates, but she had surely possessed skills in combat, lest they would not have kept her, she merely didn't utilize them often. She lazily sprawled somewhere deep within the heart of Valhalla, plume drifting in all sorts of directions with a mind of its own, crystalline blues were narrowed and focused, searching the forest, seeing a great deal of things and of course, nothing at all. Her cranium was poised almost regally as she allowed her mind to wander, back to her achieved revenge, back to the ivory dame she had left crippled. She remembered the first time she met Morgan, she remembered how close they had become, and then she remembered the sting that fatal twist of a knife when Morgan betrayed her, when Morgan took everything from her. She was lucky that all she had decided to take was her womb. She sighed softly, head falling with a thump between her forelimbs, a tiny bit of guilt gnawed away at her, but nothing she couldn't shove down. She wasn't a killer, she didn't enjoy bloodshed, but she had been stepped on all her life and when the opportunity had presented itself, to finally gain revenge... she couldn't say no. She didn't regret taking Morgan's womb, but she did regret that Morgan ever betrayed her... because if the ivory fae had not... there was no doubt in Evelette's mind that the two would still be best friends. Speech, |