Sweet Nothing [Open]

The whispering caves... such a bizarre name. The thick granite stones did not speak. Their voices did not intermingle in the depths of darkness that shrouded the caverns. Foreign languages and murmurs did not reach her ears nor her mind... so why were they called as such. A twisted mockery of lies and deception, this is not but a date with the highway to hell. Barely there echoes in the back of her brain, the many different personalities loved to speak with one another. Such beautiful symphonies of opposing opinions and irony. She loved them, each and every one of the monstrosities inside her own psyche. Perhaps she was not more than these caverns. A twisted mockery of normalcy? Long ago her mind had spiraled into utter chaos. Her psyche had shattered into so many separate fragments, it was impossible to realign them. Her personality split and cracked into so many different directions... perhaps it was she who was constructed of lies.

Why was she here, how had she come to roam these desolate caverns? Wasn't she, before a lone soul wandering about the thick pack of Valhalla? It seemed she had gotten lost at some point during the journey. Lost? Intentionally deserted? Abandoned? Betrayed? Did it matter? When the cards were down and the volcano erupted the packs had shattered. Everyone had been out for themselves, souls were left behind to burn, to rot in the foul concoction left behind, nothing but ash. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust... kill a few wolves the volcano must! A coy smile curled her lips as the voices giggled amongst themselves at their poor, distasteful joke.

Perhaps these caverns called to her. Perhaps they did speak and she was simply too distracted by her own words voices to hear it clearly, but wasn't she always? Trapped inside her own mind watching the world spin by in a haze of emotions and memories? Comradery, friendship, love... outside of her own mind these things did not exist. Very few creatures, wolf or not, even knew she existed, much less were close enough to her to be considered an ally. Her mind was to cracked, to rotten, to decayed. She was lost, damned, alone. Light filtered through the rocks, accentuating a thick boulder that protruded from the wall and she scaled it easily, lying her bodice upon it with an unearthly grace. Her fur was perfect, her coat immaculate, her beauty untouchable, but her mind was gone.