easy come easy go
10-13-2021, 08:08 AM
Summer. The word brought to mind, for example, lush tones of greens, yellows, blues, and more that met the eye as far as the sun’s light could reach. The sacred warmth that spread across this southern continent was a welcome reprieve from Boreas’ frosty chill — but Laeta was accustomed to cold. By that, she was used to frigid temperatures, for sure; she learned how to be efficient in conserving energy between hunting and avoiding possible enemies. She knew some rudimentary basics of defense moves and herbs for first aid. Moreover, however, she learned to avoid speaking to others altogether. In a sense, the bitterness of being a loner in a cold land further reinforced her distant, detached personality. It only took a bad incident in her childhood to forever damage her ability to connect to other wolves. For many, it would seem like the ultimate hell — unable to find comfort or joy in the presence of one’s own kind. Not being able to exchange words, express feelings, or describe the thoughts swimming in their head. Laeta was living that so called “hell”, but she didn’t perceive it as such. She had no idea how other wolves lived, particularly in packs. She’d seen fragments of packs on her travels as a loner — typically, they didn’t congregate in one whole group as she used to believe. In reality, she would see one or several wolves in a specific area, and they all had the same scent shared amongst each other. A pack scent. You could call it the scent of “belonging” or even “family”, if you so choose, but the woman didn’t have such an enriching experience. Her birth pack forced her out at such a young age — a yearling, an adult, but still with the mind of a child. A child. And why? Because of stupid, bullshit rumors. That her mother had lain with an outsider. If that was the case, then why didn’t they kick her siblings out as well? It didn’t make sense, but much like Lae’s tumultuous, stressful life, nothing really did. Although the ebony creature spent the majority of her years fighting for some right to exist in the harsh lands of Boreas, specifically the northern region, as she found little else to disturb her or harm her there, it was a painful existence. It was painful to endure. When times were bad and the season was bare, she often had no food for days, or up to a week. If she was lucky, she’d find some half-eaten carcass or some berries. The seasons up in Boreas had clearly left some mark; as the she-wolf trekked amongst the sunny foliage, the outline of her ribs protruded from her sides, and her piercing ruby gaze appeared more sunken and hollow. It was clear to anybody that she was not well-fed, and her spirits were chronically low. Still, though the harsh life of a loner theoretically would’ve aged the woman nuch faster, Lae still maintained a youthful complexion. It was as if she remained at the same size and build she was when she left her birth pack (and, plot twist: she didn’t grow). As the soft light of day seeped into her black and white coat, the woman’s body, though worn by hunger and cold, remained glossy and smooth. Her shoulders and haunches still contained roped tendrils of muscle, built up from years of sprinting and maneuvering into tight dens and crevices. Her eyes, though having lost their sparkle, were still as luminous and sharp as ever. The aging and subsequent hardening of her cynical exterior remained invisible to the naked eye. It had likely been some stretch of time before the woman dared glance at the world above her, only then noticing the grand but worn remains of the castle. For most of her life, she cast her beautiful eyes upon the earth below, appreciating the monotony and allowing herself to feel even smaller and more invisible than before. Little did she realize it was one of several survival mechanisms she’d acquired as the result of being forced to survive and grow up from a young age. Too young, arguably. However, for once, she let herself take in the sights that had sprawled out across her path, a welcome reprieve, she had to admit, from the relatively dull landscape on the other continent. Tentatively, Lae approached the edges of the castle’s domain as soon as she noticed the thick smell of a pack in her midst. Her ruby gaze scanned the immediate area in front of her, and her body instinctively stiffened, ready to kick into fight-or-flight mode. She never relaxed. Other wolves made her nervous, particularly after the mostly negative encounters she’d had with some of them, if she interacted with them at all. Still, she was tired, despondent. Tired of running around. Tired of making her home in cramped burrows left behind by creatures unknown. Tired of eating dead crickets when nothing substantial crossed her path for days, weeks on end. She just wanted to belong. Bracing herself against the inevitable, everlasting instinct to flee — her default state, and one that wore her down to her core, she stood her ground at the edge of the pack’s territory, wondering if the inhabitants of this land would ever come her way. |
comin' up for air in the deepest of the deep ends
i thought i learned it all, but boom, the plot thickens
laeta has a european badger companion named melis. he can speak and is assumed to be with her at all times.