I'LL ALWAYS ACHE WITH AN EMPTY HEART xx (jupiderp)
06-11-2013, 12:35 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-17-2013, 11:59 AM by Medusa i.)
She was nighttime, with a pitch black pelt and moonlit eyes that shone like their own suns instead of mere reflected light. She was young and playful, with a mother who struggled to care for her and her siblings in a desolate wasteland they called home. Medusa was the youngest, the weakest, the most demanding of attention. Flickers of the past came into her conscience, flickers that almost seemed like a movie both in quality and the detachment that she felt from her person. And yet, the youth in her memories was undoubtedly her, with a sharp tongue and far more innocent nature. She remembered an old scarred man, she remembered him speaking in hushed tones with her mother, glancing casually at her from time to time. She remembered the two older wolves that approached and latched into her scruff, her struggles against them futile at such a young age. She remembered a loosening grip and scrambling legs, and then pain in the back of her head, and then darkness. Eyes opened wide as the woman picked her head back up, fatigue riddling her motions as she sat straight up. The harlot had not slept since a day or so before her arrival, and the exhaustion was wearing her to the bones. She?d managed to groom herself as best she could, but the back of her neck was still riddled with deep bite wounds. There were multiple scars there, but these wounds were fresh and bleeding, and in an area the siren couldn?t reach herself. Pain thrummed through her body amongst invisible bruises, and her stomach growled in pain, the soft skin of her underbelly covered in hideous marks and scratches. She tried to lose herself in the pain, not wanting to fall asleep and face the memories of her locked away past and not wanting to stay too awake and face the emotional pain of her capture. The pain she didn?t deserve to feel, because she had been asking for it after all. Once more her head would bow, eyes shutting for an instant as vague images of grey children with black speckles danced into her mind, words like brother, sistercoming with it. |
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