Nothing's New

Absinth snorted at the teasing of the orange girl, sharp gaze twinkling in mirth for the innocence Karaka exuded. She had quite a way of making Absinth feel both enthralled and befuddled at the same time. And Oh, what would become of her if she remained that way. “If our paths ever cease to cross, You’ll have to find me and tell me every tale there is to be had, before our time is up.” The far stated, rather macabre, but it was genuine. She tried to imagine an aged Raka, her horns littered with stones- wise and weathered. Would she still be alive then? To hear the stories? Did she want to live a full life? Absinth had never considered such things. Life was meant to be a race for survival after all.

Watching as the girl settled in for a story telling,  Absinth grinned wickedly at her overt teasing. Young woman, you’re far too naive to be testing me. Her emerald gaze turned amorous for a few moments, reeling in the desire to play the game of temptation in favor of her story time. “To give you a story behind the wolf that claimed your first kiss- the tale of Absinth Artemisia Inferos. This will not be a fairy tale.” Absinth prepared herself by straightening her sitting posture, her skull aligning with that of Raka’s as she looked down on the girl with an expression that spoke of experience. “My name comes from a plant. Particularly toxic if ingested. I always hated the kids who teasingly called me Wormwood. But I miss them a bit now, seeing as they all fell into the hands of traffickers. They were the closest thing I had to friends until recently.

I grew up surrounded by vile souls, those who would rather take what they wanted over any other means. No matter. I was fast. You had to be. I was quick to discern the full intent of each interaction. So. I was not taken advantage of. Having zero trust in others has a way of keeping you alive.” Absinth paused to give Karaka a glum look, surely insinuating that she worried about her in that sense. Then she continued. “My mother was a whore. Perfectly placed and vulnerable on a street edge as my father came by one day. He was a man of fancy, and had challenged and won the rank of King recently. He was always looking for something of interest. So my mother gave in to him easily. Had Children with him to raise her status, though it didn’t. She remained penniless and drunken in the slums, as did I have no place other than that of a street rat.

I know not of my littermates. I may never know. Who cares? We were separated young. I have no sympathy for them. I couldn’t afford it.

I was raised in part by my father and an older sister, but their fleeting affections still left me on my own most of the time. And at a year old I ran from home, to avoid the fate of a brothel worker. What did it matter? My father was gone, my sister was gone, my mother was never really in her right mind..

Where I come from, there are no colorful wolves such as yourself, it’s all shades of gray there. A land of vices, truly.” As she finished her retelling of his story, Absinth released a huff. Thinking about her last was like a knife to the gut- and yet equally liberating. She was proud to have survived it all, and to have secured her own future for herself. It was evident in the way she rose to her paws with confidence. ”Karaka. Do you think a wolf born under such conditions is going to be an upstanding member of society?” Her gaze shifted into something harder, intrusively seeking the girl’s realization of just what Absinth was. Would she connect the dots, between her and the monsters of the Sound? Absinth was burning with the desire to push the girl’s acceptance to the limit. Excitement nearly crackled through every hair of her pelt like lightning.

wormwood