I'm not sick, but I'm not well [epidemic meeting]
06-01-2014, 07:20 PM
The watchers, there were less of them now. Where there had been two, there was now just one. He was a bluish man, oddly familiar and yet so strange. Her eyes had since stopped welling with crimson tears, but her face remained caked with blood. Apparently they had not found time to address their Queen. She wobbled on her paws, having been laying still for so long. They had made her this way - her ailing mind was sure of it. They had made her this way so that the Argent-spawned child could take her throne right out from under her. What other explanation was there? The howl had awakened her, and chilled her to her very core. They were plotting against her, against she and Isardis - against her family. She couldn't let them get away with it. The watcher was a fool. He didn't even see her leave, or if he did he didn't have the balls to stop her - that's what her mind told her as she skirted past him. She moved quietly because she had lost a bit of weight, and because her mind kept telling her if she didn't move quietly he would shove her back into the den with the others - the crazy ones. She didn't know where the Heiress had called from, but she could only imagine a few plausible locations. The most logical - and the nearest - was in the pines, so sick limbs would carry her there first. She only fell once, twice, three times on her way. It hadn't been more than a few hundred yards, but it felt like she'd traveled miles by the end of it. A crowd had gathered. They were whispering. They are going to kill you. The boy was there. The one who had wanted to kill her before. (Drashiel) He was there and he had brought things with him. The things he had, they looked dangerous. A growl bubbled deep in her chest, forming into a snarl as it ripped free from her gaping jaws. The girl was there. The white one, the Heiress. Spite bubbled along with the bile in her gut. ?Issssn't thisssss quaint...? she hissed, ailment thick in her tones. ?Kyarssssst, they brainwashed you...? Her own son was here, with the traitors - with the ones who wanted to kill her. Grief ripped through her core. Her only present son, here plotting her demise. ?You turn my own sssssson againsssssst me?? Gaze shifted warily to Athena, locking onto her figure. Had she had the energy she would stain the girl's chest red - but alas, she had none. ?speak,? |
Current time: 11-27-2024, 07:27 AM
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