good day

*Memento Mori* · 09-19-2022, 05:44 PM

At the woman’s questioning of her lineage, Memento Mori shook her head. “By blood, perhaps, my grandmother was an Adravendi, and my uncle had taken her name as well, but my mother had taken the surname of her father. By name, I am Memento Mori Lore, though to know one's roots is a good thing.” The woman explained. She had never been told why her uncle had chosen one walk of life and her mother another, though she would assume it had something to do with how her grandfather died and what seemed like a pointless grudge from her parents because of it all. Their hate had brought them no peace, not that she had ever met her sire to ask him for his side, and her mother would give nothing more than the Abraxas deserved to pay for taking Ganta’s life. It was almost a shame there was more to the story than that… and how hate had only bred more hate in the end.

It was her mother’s own will and push for her to be pruned into a leader that had turned Memento Mori off from the idea of a pack initially. She had wanted nothing to do with the responsibilities or the strange type of justice her mother sought. In fact, Meme had wanted little to do with a battle that wasn’t hers to begin with. She had fought an Abraxas true enough, but it was her own foolish remarks, not some older feud, that had brought about the maim she had received. As it currently stood Meme was realizing just how much control her mother’s views had held over her. She wasn’t able to live her own life. But now? She felt as though she was existing for the first time, truly seeing the world new.

“The Long Night? I’ve never heard of it. It must have been something that had occurred while I was outside of Auster and Boreas.” She furrowed her brow. Just what all had happened in her time away from the lands?

The woman then introduced herself as Laeta, a scholar and a physician for the mind and soul. Memento Mori had not heard of such a role before, but it didn’t seem bad. Unique, really. “I appreciate it, Laeta. It is something that I may take you up on.” She gave a warm, genuine smile. “It’s been nice to meet those who don’t have these huge expectations of me. As if I’m the answer to their problems and battles that are not my own.” She began.

“My mother was the daughter of the alphas of a short-lived pack by the name of Dragoste. From my understanding, a family of wolves came to challenge the pack, and my grandfather, for everything. He lost to their leader and seemed to give up his own life, killed by the challenger. Those actions I believe caused a rift between my family, between my mother and uncle Ulric. She became so wrapped up in revenge, mating with my father when neither were actually sure of their feelings for one another or maybe it was one-sided… I don’t know.” Either way Meme knew she had not been born out of love… but pity, perhaps.

“My mother expected me to stand against this family, the Abraxas, for their deeds. But it was never my battle, my war to stand against them. Especially when I’d only ever got bits and pieces of the story. She expected me to become this great leader, rally followers and form a pack, even wage war against them… It had turned me away from the idea of a pack for a long, long time. Before meeting Ezra, I wasn’t even sure if there could potentially be anyone left for me to trust outside of the two jackals I call my companions. But… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel like, in coming to the Hallows, there is this new flicker of hope. And I want so badly to cling to it, but I also can’t help but be wary… like maybe it’s all just an illusion or something and is going to disappear before my very eyes.” Her gaze fell as she lowered her rear to the earth.

“I’ve always been afraid of the possibility of things falling apart like it’s too good to be true…” She gave a soft, half-hearted chuckle. “You sure this isn’t some sort of dream?”

"Talk, 'Think.'

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good day

memento mori

Memento Mori