We crave a different kind of buzz
She had been lingering in the north. She didn't know why, maybe it was the drastic change of scenery that offered her no reminders of home or her past. Or maybe the cooler temperatures that made the summer a little more bearable. The young woman didn't spend to long dwelling on it for she didn't care. Today she found herself heading towards the sound of rushing water, oriented around a lone mountain. Dark paws kissed the cool earth, audits twitching at each foreign noise. Still not yet accustomed to the area, she found herself on edge, exploring every little noise she heard. Steps were kept silent, ringed plume hung idly at her heels. Serpentine limbs carried her with quiet grace. It didn't take long for her toxic gaze to fall on the source of the sound. Waterfalls. She had heard stories, but had never actually seen them. She remembered the story of when her mother first arrived in this land, she encountered a quiet place with falls and thirst quenching water. Somehow she couldn't imagine her mother this far north, she despised the cold. But maybe it was similar to this. Weaving closer, she was careful to avoid the chilly spray, crown dipping for a drink from the pools. It was frigid, but delightfully refreshing. Raising her skull, she caught sight of her reflection in the crystal waters. A mere shadow of herself looked back at her.
Eyes weren't as bright as they used to be, now dull and emotionless. No matter how lush and flawless her dark pelt was, there was no making up for the empty look in her eyes. A sigh slipped from inky lips as the woman turned away, hating the face that looked back at her. Frame slide to the earth, muzzle curling back in a silent snarl. Rage bubbled up inside her. Somehow it was familiar. Like the night she found her mothers grave. It escaped its cage, running wild and free, consuming everything within her. Eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. It felt so good, letting the unbridled emotion to flow through her veins. Pushing herself up onto long stilts, the shadow paced along the edge of the waters, crown held even with her spine, a permanent snarl etched on her features. |