Raise the Wreck of Doubt

Her struggle was fierce, in the way that an extremely injured person could muster. It was something, but utterly irrational and driven by pure endurance of willpower. She wasn’t thinking, and how could she have been expected to? Her jaws sought any purchase she could make, eyes clouded with the need to end her own torment. Something did come into contact with her fangs, but she was so weakened that her teeth could not break skin. Instead she remained locked onto Aresenn’s hide, growls emitting around her bite.

She shook once, twice, before a familiar scent hit her nares. Through her muddled mind came a voice of reason, as soft as an echo but still there. Gradually the force of her bite lightened, just as the pain began to subside — enough so that she was able to focus her emerald orbs and peer upwards at her perceived enemies. Aurelia was tending to her. And in her jaws — Aresenn. Absinth locked eyes with him, the daze of confusion still present but ebbing. What was this? Why was she here? Where… where had that bastard gone?
wormwood