This ball and chain
10-17-2014, 07:30 PM
She was trapped. Trapped in this wasteland. A sigh would leave her lips. Maija was here, that much she knew. But where? She had yet to come across her golden sister. Did she even know she was here? Her head pounded with near constant headaches. Her wounds were healing, leaving behind only small scars on her muzzle, but the missing chunk of flesh on her scruff was bound to scar heavily. She struggled with her injuries. She was no longer flawless, a perfect example and beauty. She was forever marred by the evidence of her blood thirsty life. Was she even still considered beautiful?
Her vision would blur, a headache rolling powerfully through her brain. She needed a healer. There was no doubt she had a concussion, if not something worse. Russet limbs would fold beneath her, her belly pressing against the cool plains. She dared not enter the moor, the place was dreadful looking. This place wasn't so bad, but there was hardly any trees, she felt so exposed. Her singular orb would scan back and forth, ears flipping in every direction. She was constantly on high alert, not wanting to be caught off guard by one the other members of this pack. "" |