not to be forgotten, still unforgiven
07-02-2014, 02:35 PM
Spring. It was still frozen in the north but down here the change of the season would be obvious even if the itch, the ache of her heat cycle beginning hadn't already marked it. There was a certain warmth to the breeze, the sun felt brighter... and she ached. Though her habit was to remain in her den as much as possible through the more obvious parts of her heat cycle out of a sense of fairness to the males who would have to deal with that scent, she had found herself far to the south, trotting relentlessly away from Tortuga. Restless. The combination of her heat and the spring wind and the pain of her broken heart had driven her from her confining den, from her confining pack, and she paced the prairieland like a woman obsessed. What was wrong with her? She was seven years old and had never found someone who would stay with her, who would truly love her... hell, she'd never even mated with someone. She'd been of age for five years and never even been propositioned. Was she truly so unattractive with her oversized feet and her square muzzle that she couldn't even find someone to mate with her? A sudden surge of uncharacteristic anger surged through her, overwhelming the hurt and depression. Why should she let the opinions of those who had come before matter to her? And why should she sit around and wait for someone to wander by that might be interested? Why shouldn't she take matters into her own paws? Stopping abruptly, she lashed her tail, glaring out over the prairie with a vague sort of determination. She wasn't fully certain what she was going to do precisely, but she was going to do something. |
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