ardent

There's Nothing Lower Than Six Foot Deep

Deathbelle



Iolaire

Somnium

Master Healer (250)

Master Intellectual (250)

An icon representing the specialty Professor Professor

age
10 Years
gender
Female
gems
100
size
Small
build
Light
posts
787
player
Res2

Silver Medal 2020Christmas 2019Trick 2019Promptober 2019
03-10-2021, 10:19 PM


The harsh winter winds had slowed the sucking sands, freezing the water particles in between the granules of rock. It was a good thing for had it not been frozen, the tiny, emaciated wraith that stumbled through the Pitfalls would have surely lost her life. Not that she cared. Her body was on autopilot while her mind was light years away. She had failed. All of her knowledge. All of her expertise had meant absolutely nothing. He had gone all that way for her. So that she could heal. In the end, it killed him. Roan... her sweet, sweet man. The husband that had filled the void within her and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Her Bearkiller. The other half of her soul. He was gone. His life snuffed out like a tiny flame at the end of a piece of kindling. And she hadn't been able to do a gods damned thing.

Mists swirled around the tri-colored body, though the white parts of her were yellowed and dirty. From the time that she had buried her husband, Iolaire had been walking. Her paws were cracked and bloody, though the further north she walked, the more they froze. Her nails were broken. Her coat was in disarray. She was filthy and disheveled. The woman looked nothing like the confident wolf that she had once been. As the light died within Roan, something too died within her.

Where was she going? She didn't rightly know. All that she remembered was that her family was north. She needed to go north. No doubt her path had zigzagged and she didn't quite know where she was. Had she known that she'd tromped right past her mother's territory, she would have kicked herself in the ass. Iolaire's paw caught on a rock as she skirted the edge of the land of quicksand. The broken woman crashed to the ground face first, biting her lip and hitting her nose so hard that it began to bleed. Curling up in a ball, the wounded woman sobbed aloud, her banshee-like wails fading into the undulating mist.

"Speech"
Io has a dwarf caribou companion and a snow leopard companion. Assume they aren't with her unless stated otherwise.