All the kings horses
Glimmering in pallid beauty, a bobber large and round waned upon a placid sea of stars. It was the glowing beacon that beckoned the woman forward, driving each impetus thrust of muscles that try as they might, would never quite be able to arrive upon that horizon and quell the frenzy that drove her onward. Once again she was being pursued, hunted until her limbs would eventually buckle and give way to the expansive weight of her own exhaustion. If only she could evade her assailants just a little longer. Her breath came fast, heart pumping wildly between each stretch and release of elongated muscles as they propelled her across the unforgiving beach. When she gazed upon the moon with a faint echo of hope to see it another night, she imagined the great celestial orb laughing down upon her foolish ideals.
However, this time had been different. This was it, she was free. She had won.
Just as the thought began to creep into her mind, the fates did indeed laugh an infectious bellow that catapulted her paws swiftly away from the ground in a near instant. With a sudden swing and a snap, a large knot of rope snared the dark pillars of her legs in a problematic tangle pulled taut and most unforgiving. Propelled by simple leverage, the faint shriek of a stunned yelp left her lungs before the female was quickly hoisted upwards like a puppet upon its strings. Coiled around one front paw, and strung around past her spine to lace one of her back legs, the rope stretched the wildly thrashing wolf into the air. The more she flailed, and flail she would, the tighter the entrapment became. Suspended just below a single palm tree, she hung awkwardly ensnared and swaying steadily as aimless jaws frantically snapped at invisible enemies. Panic-stricken and still writhing against the inanimate captor, she hastily surveyed the eerily lit and indistinct shadows that stretched across the shoreline.
In the distance, shapes similar enough to be the familiar outline of wolves were stiffened and unmoving. Littered upon the darkened shore, a haphazard collection of wood and rope had decorated the ground around them. The beach was quiet and altogether noiseless with the exception of the rhythmic tides crashing against the sand. It would seem she was in fact alone, left to fully appreciate her catastrophic plight mortified, yet unattended. She was grateful only for a mere beat before she considered the length of time that she may be stranded there, unceremoniously bobbing up and down beneath that tree.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
If ever there was a time to pray to the Gods for a miracle, this was it. Yet she was an uncouth heathen with a enthusiastic tongue and an exceedingly colorful vocabulary to match, a far cry from a pleading woman of the cloth. With a regretful glance back at the moon, Lilah swallowed the panic that had amassed within her throat and allowed all of her undignified charm to blossom.
Hooting and hollering every curse and string of crass insults she had accumulated within her three years of life, her voice rivaled against the sound of the waves. Every vulgar and undignified response her untamed tongue could articulate while suspended upside-down free flowed like a river from out her dark lips. She wasn’t a woman who was willing to go quietly into any dark night.
