And I love the way that you hurt me, baby
12-04-2018, 12:49 PM
(This post was last modified: 12-04-2018, 12:49 PM by Kirsi.)
Some wolves went their whole lives never knowing true fear. Those wolves were the lucky ones. But wolves like Kirsi, wolves who were drawn to chaos like a moth to a flame, who danced on the edge of danger - wolves like her were the ones that knew true fear, who knew true anguish. Kirsi had looked that fear straight in the eye - she'd seen his face, covered in the blood of her own children, despite once swearing herself to him. Kirsi couldn't seem to completely erase Valkorion from her mind, no matter how hard she tried, and no matter how many times. It hadn't been all that long since she'd last seem him, and the time they'd spent apart had only make her pain grow. Each memory that resurfaced, of him or her kids - or, god forbid, even of Ignatius - was like a knife in a fresh wound that hadn't had time to heal. The undersized female, in an attempt to keep her thoughts at bay, had decided to keep moving. As undersized as Kirsi was, maintaining the figure of a wolf who never quite left adolescence, she felt even smaller beneath the behemoth trees of this forest. Regardless of how her previous encounter with Ignatius had gone, she intended to stay in the nearby territories. What else would she do, anyway? It wasn't long she could return home - not that she wanted to, but she wasn't sure her homecoming would go quite like she planned. Instead of dwelling on that, she'd focus on doing routine patrols in the lands surrounding Ignatius's new home. Not because she needed to, or because anyone else needed her to, but she needed a distraction - and this gave her an excuse to pace endlessly beneath the eerie shadows of the trees. The day had been a quiet and relatively routine one. Kirsi was deeply focused on her self-appointed task, and when a painfully familiar scent hit her, it nearly paralyzed her completely. No. It couldn't be. No, no, no... Slowly, cautiously, the blue-furred female swiveled her head and took a sharp breath of frigid air, ignoring the way the sudden gust of cold stung in her nose and down her throat. She zeroed in on the scent, and the nostalgia that came with it was painful. The slight calmness she'd achieved today was suddenly shattered, replaced by a sharp, raw pain somewhere deep in her chest. How the fuck had he found her? Or perhaps he was looking for Ignatius. Either way.. why? Hadn't he gotten what he'd wanted all along? Trying to control the trembling in her slender limbs, she aimed to redirect herself - but before long she heard that all too familiar voice, booming through the forest. She'd feared him once; no, she still feared him, but the number of wolves she was afraid of him harming had dwindled significantly. While she knew the wise thing to do would be to run, she found that her paws were carrying him closer to him. Her gait was cautious and meticulous, maintaining what she deemed as a safe distance as she slowly made her way toward the sound of his voice. When she saw a faint silhouette, somewhere in the distance between the tall trees, she paused. "You bastard," she hissed loudly, stressing the word she used to describe him. There weren't enough words in any language to describe the depth of emotion that he conjured up within her, so she wouldn't bother to try. It wouldn't make a difference anyway. "Why the hell are you here?" It wasn't that she was stronger now than she had been then, that wasn't why she was standing up to him now. It was out of convenience, and an easy outlet for the raw anguish and rage that washed over as soon as she'd caught a whiff of his stench. |
