Falling In Reverse

TW: MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS



Life has come fits and starts since the broken woman awoke alone after that terrible day with the bears; giving and taking from her whenever it sees fit. When she had seen Víðarr in the forest all those months ago, Tove had actually believed that things would change between them. She had confessed her love and why she was so angry that he had abandoned her and the woman had blindly assumed that things had changed between them. But you know what they say about assuming things… it makes an ass out of you and me.

Just as quickly as he had entered back into her life, the Shadow had walked right back out and left her to pick up the pieces of her broken heart all over again. Then, just when she thought he was truly gone, Tove had laid eyes on him at the pack challenge. Víðarr had won the right to establish the pack he so desperately wanted since they first met… and he hadn’t even realized she existed. There were others there, supporting him, men and women alike, and that is when the scarred woman know that would never be anything, so she buried her heart on that field.

It was easy to slip away without anyone noticing and she had returned to the lands of the pack that tolerated her where she cried for what felt like days. The emptiness that had been growing inside her since the day Bodin died had reached its final tipping point and the woman knew she was in danger of losing herself. Since that night, she has set things in order, making sure that her presence would not be misses in the pack. It was easy enough since no one noticed, or seemed to care about her decline as the older woman begin to fade away.

She ate less and less, took care of herself less and less until her ribs now show under her lackluster coat. The pride she once took in the galactic coat now gone as she simply wishes to no longer exist. It was easy to slip out of Valta’s lands, hell, no one even cared about what she did anymore, and that is how she finds herself here. A cold breeze ruffles her dull coat and sends a shiver to race along her spine as Tove stares down at the waiting death. The calm water beneath her hides the sharp rocks and icy chill that lies just below the surface.

Tove stands at the very edge of the cliff, the sheer drop a mere pawstep away and she toys with the idea of how easy it would be to simply step out into the open air and join Bodin in the afterlife. Yet, her brother had died fighting and she knows that he is in Valhalla, while this would only land her in Hel. Once again, she curses the wolves that had saved her, wishing that they left her die with her brother but she has come to know just how much life loves its chances to fuck her over. Maybe this is what she deserves, the endless torment of Hel surely cannot be worse than her life spent here in waiting.

Still, she cannot bring herself to step off the edge and that is where she stands. She is a mere  hairs breath from death and all she does… is hesitate.


"Tove Baade"