Memories Like Broken Glass, Threaten To Tear Me Apart

A bitter wind blows, biting deep into the roaming wolf’s bones. The cold settles into every fiber of her being, calling for her to stop and rest. But the lone wolf knows that, if she gives into the small voice, she will not get back up. So, Wight continues to wander the desolate landscape, the towering cathedral of ice that some might call beautiful only serving to make the lost woman feel even more alone. Behind this icy building, the sea laps at the ice, pounding out a depressing rhythm that starts to tug at buried memories. White tipped paws stop their slow, ambling pace across the snow, silver-mismatched eyes coming to rest on the churning waves of the sea. The wind dies down and, for a moment, she is still.

Then the wind picks up, whipping snow into her colorful coat and bringing with it the screams. Wight sucks in breath as her mind returns home to an island now reclaimed by the ocean. Ears twitch as the sounds of paws pounding at frantic paces and screams of fear mixed with sobs of those too weak to run pound relentlessly into the still wolf. For a long moment, duel-toned eyes are glazed as the memories threaten to overtake her. However, the red masked woman does not allow the dark memories to pull her down and instead gives her skull a head shake to dispel the sounds of the dead wolves.

Casting her gaze around, Wight finds no signs life in this forsaken land and the rumble of her hungry stomach pulls her back to more pressing concerns. With a heavy sigh, the space cloaked wolf places the sea to her back and walks on.


"Wight Baade"