disasters in the making
04-10-2015, 06:30 PM
Motif to be honest wasn't sure who she was anymore, or who she had become. She was a mother, a beta of Abaven, a sister, an Auntie (abide a terrible one) and still she could not define what she and Shai where to one another. When had her life become one where she relied on who she was to everyone else? She had been free, strong, and fearless not that long ago. She had been Bass's right hand, a proud sister, an alpha of Abven and nothing had fazed her. Now she was a failure of a sibling, having burned her bridges with her beloved Rhythm. She was a mother without a mate, and flailed about in some attempt to be a parent. She knew she was a train wreck, drowning with no lifeline in sight. It was no surprise that she would wonder from Abaven territory in search of clean air, free of the taint of her failures. What she hadn't expected, was the scent of a familiar stranger. Having lost the companionship of Rhythm, she hadn't been close enough to any other wolves to find it elsewhere, so she would find inside of her, surprise, anticipation and a touch of joy in the potential reunion of an old friend. One she had made back when she sparred every chance she got, back in days that felt much younger. There was a touch of trepidation somewhere in the pit of her stomach as she moved on an encounter course to Mira's path. She wasn't far from Abaven territory, a fact that puzzled Motif. She had no idea where the other had vanished to, or why, or if she was returning or simply passing by. Yet, in the timing for Mira couldn't have been better, because in that moment none of those questions mattered, the only one that did was that she was here. There would be no challenge in her posture, only curiosity, and perhaps wonder as Mira came into her view. “Mira?” her voice would echo out as a question, as through perhaps after all this time she could be mistaking a stranger for a friend.
Speech Thought |
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