Price of Freedom (ode)

She refused to venture back into the forest or the plains. His stench was everywhere, and it was suffocating. No longer was it alluring. It made her sick. Idly it had crossed her mind whether or Crucifix had passed the pack onto Odette yet. Her crown would tip back as she allowed a call for the woman to leave her lips. She had carefully packaged her emotions into little boxes and stored them away in a safe in the back of her mind. Ice still ran freely through her veins, and hatred still blazed in her tattered features. Muscles remained tensed beneath her pelt as she half expected Crucifix to come strolling out of the blue. But she knew better, he would avoid her like a plague. Which was probably a good thing. For his well being of course. She had no idea what she would do if she ever saw him again. Or his whore. Part of her longed to cross paths with the woman, to leave her a little present that would be a constant reminder of what she had done. And perhaps it would serve as a reminder to her ex husband of what he had done. The desire for revenge drawled up her legs and settle deep in her heart.