FLAWLESS

*Fiamette* · 06-12-2014, 04:39 PM

She had been kidnapped. A mischievous white ghoul had managed to collect her unconscious body due to falling into an illness induced coma that had put her at the mercy of a stranger. She could vaguely remember her face, the way her mismatched eyes clashed against her pale ivory pelt was something the teenager could not forget. Her hijacker had been beautiful, a gem in the rough that she had unintentionally crossed paths with. Would they ever meet again? Was there a reason why the ghoul had taken her unconscious body? These thoughts would plague her mind despite being completely free of the illness, her mother having found the cure while testing on other sick patients and feeding it to her before she had awoken. Her body no longer felt overrun with fever, her head did not feel groggy, and her vision was not blurred by her own blood. She could see clearly now, her volcanic hued orbs darting across the dens roof as relief washed over her. She would roll onto her stomach, lengthy ebony dipped tail lashing out behind her as she rose to her blackened paws. Audits would swivel toward the dens opening, the faint sound of approaching foot steps drawing her attention. She would move quickly, slipping from the opening with ease to catch a glimpse of the nuisance that was constantly ruining her life- Hestia. The black sheep was sprinting toward the borders, and so Fiamette would follow after her sister, seeking to know what force had her sister running so frantically.

To her surprise they would approach the battlefield, a place she had only heard stories of, but had yet to discover on her own. Upon crossing into the territory her mothers perfume would waft across her blackened nose, nostrils quivering as brows furrowed with curiosity, limbs pumping faster as she picked up her pace. She would aim to run past the black sheep, paying the nuisance no attention as she broke away from her path. She was curious to know why her mother was here, to her knowledge the battlefield was used for fighting and challenging. Did this mean her mother was being challenged for Covari? Doubt was nonexistent in the girl as she approached the gathering group of wolves, she had no worry in her mind that her mother would be quelled by her enemy. She was an unstoppable force, one to be reckoned with if you wished to be slaughtered. They would not be losing Covari today. Her sister would move toward her mother, whom hadn't been met by her enemy yet. It was apparent then that she was not being challenged, but instead, she was challenging someone. A faint smile would curl the crimson nymph's lips, her mothers raw determination causing her stomach to flutter with pride. "She does not need luck, she will sever them in two by her own tooth and claw-" Venomous words would slip from her gaping maw, words meant for her sisters ears as she cast a challenging glance the blackened sheep's way before looking up at her mother. "Isn't that right, mother?" The girl would coo softly, taking on a gentler tone when speaking to her mother. She did not need their blessing, nor she need anyone's luck. She was a god. Hestia would move away from her mother, and Fiamette would do the same, parting from her mother and walking a few yards away to sit alone and observe the fight that had yet to begin.

"Speech"

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