Long Live the Queen [OPEN]

*Raisa* · 08-30-2014, 09:49 AM

The haze was... fading. Slowly but still it was trickling from her mind like poison running from her ears and eyes and nose. Equal parts crushing woe and fear, constricting her every breath for so long, and it was finally seeming to fade. Oh, but she had to be careful. She had been fooled like this before. An uneasy laugh, breathy in it's desperation, rasped through her lips. This false moments of clarity were like a mirage in the desert of her desperation. Where was she? Who was she? The woman could not remember what was real and what was a cruel and terrible lie. She would have dreams, or maybe nightmares, sometimes. Coats streaked with blood, the smell of ash and death in her nose, golden fur that made her feel warm all over. Small bundles of flesh, the scent of her mother, and the ever-looming overwhelming feeling of failure. But what had she failed at? A tremor ran through her from tip to tail, jolting her as it always did whenever she tried to remember. Every time, she thought as though wailing. How could these demons that plagued her be so damnably cruel? She knew there was something, something that she needed to understand! But her mind felt splintered and sharp, and would lash out at her every time she tried to delve within them, to recollect what she had lost.

It was worse when the little creature was there. It only appeared sometimes, but with it's arrival came memories and that familiar turmoil. Raisa hated the creature, but did not fully understand why. Where had he come from? Why, oh why could he not just leave her be! In her clearer moments she might recognize it as a fox, but more often than not it was just another one of her demons. It spoke, but she would not listen, or did not understand. He would always be there whenever she was hurt, or when she wept. She thought sometimes that it meant he was the reason she woke up sobbing, or when the tremors drove her to fits that would last throughout the night and leave her weak and exhausted. She lay where she had fallen last night, in a shallow dip in the earth. The chill of winter still gripped this land at night and it was no proper shelter but she hardly noticed. If her fur was dirty and matted, if her bones stuck out at hard angles under her skin, she did not notice that either. The woman was weak and cold and forlorn, and at that moment she could not find it in herself to rise and begin the day anew.

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