porcelain dreams

Pads pressed against the earth in a flurry. Baby blue eyes were nearly covered by narrowed ashen lids. Ears lay flat against the curvature of her skull. Brisk evening air weaved through her thinning summer coat. Banshee ran through the foreign continent as fast as she could. Sprinting with a careless nature as if a predator was gaining way on her. Navigating the forests and plains. Only taking short breaks when her muscles began to ache and threaten to lock up on her or to lap up some fresh water. It had been a day or two into her journey. After a week or two of her usual depressive sulking the yearling decided she needed to get away. For how long? She did not know.

Impulse brought the young Klein south. The furthest south she had ever been. Usually she lingered along the land bridge between the two continents but this time she desired to truly remove herself from the grasp of her family. After her father arriving she had felt as though her life had been tossed up again. Banshee desired nothing more but to move on with everything but all of the emotions gained control. Previously she had come to terms with the pale ghoul being dead. It was easier that way. But, to have him back just lead to more suffering. The daughter within her wanted to hug him and never let go. To have a father figure that could be there for her like no one else. But, she also knew if she did so she'd end up suffering when he abandoned them again. Her internal struggle was agonizing and only led her to explosive episodes like the current one. Which led her to the creek where she would call home for the evening.

Banshee moved along the edge of the creek with the moon shining through the canopy above. Scents of travelers and prey alike filled her dappled nose. Beaming blue eyes consumed the sights around her which seemed to take in each and every sight. Her steps had slowed at this point to a walking pace. Panting emitted from the babe as she moved closer to the water's edge. Two front paws dipped into the shallowest point of the creek as her head moved downward. Banshee lapped at the liquid with little thought. As her thirst was satiated the yearling tossed her head into the air and howled. The song was not a summon but merely a cry. It was a solemn song of pain and heart ache.

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