GIVE ME SOMETHING TO BREAK
10-13-2013, 01:07 AM
(This post was last modified: 10-28-2013, 01:26 AM by Alaria.)
| Alaria |
|
Alaria padded, stiff legged, through the field of battle. The fae's normally erect audits were pinned flat against her skull, her hackles raised. Rage suffused every step, every line in her body. It would have been unwise for any wolf to confront her at that point in time, so in turmoil were her emotions. Any plant that she walked by, she savaged it to bits. Any ray of sunshine was glared at with hateful amber orbs. Alaria was angry. And there was nothing she, nor any other wolf could do to calm her down. She wanted to fight. She wanted to claw and bite and tear until she was a mess of blood and flesh. Contrary to Alaria's emotions, the day was bright and sunny. Though winter still held the land of Alacritis in it's firm grip, the day was unusually warm. Ria snarled viciously and snapped at the ebony fur cloaking her back, angry that it kept her so warm. Alaria stopped dead in her tracks, her entire body stiff with rage. As full of anger as she was, Alaria truly had not the slightest inclination of how to talk herself down. With no other options, and resorting to the slightest thing possible to attempt a cool-down, Alaria started digging at the hard earth of the plain. She dug and tore and put every ounce of muscle she had into her digging. Alas, despite the rather large hole she had dug after a few minutes and the two claws she had ripped out in the process, the digging did nothing to defuse the ticking time bomb that was Alaria. The fae slowly dragged her moist salmon tongue over the raw, bleeding wounds, relishing the sharp bite of pain that reminded her she was still breathing, however unfortunate that may be. At a loss of what else to do, Alaria raised her snout to the heavens and loosed a primal howl that sounded more like a scream. She channeled all of her emotions into it, the anger, the rage, the frustration. But behind the raw energy of the vicious emotions were the softer, more melancholy sounds of the pain, the vulnerability, the sadness. There was no doubt about it, Alaria was broken. An empty, shattered shell of her former self. And there was nothing she could do about it. |