|we pull our boots on with both hands
but we can't punch ourselves awake
and all I can do is stand on the curb and say
sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine.
She liked it, this redecoration of Moladion. She didn't like particularly that so many had lost their lives in the process, or so many dislodged from their homes, but... all you have left out of what's been broken is to start anew. She had lost one home, once before, of her own choosing. Gave it up for a life of adventure and independence, only to find the rules of adulthood and loner life more restricting by far than she had ever imagined. But she had acted out, spoken her mind, lived a life as rambunctious as she could ever hope for, and she had the scars to show for it. Her face bore a medley of small scars from violent encounters, as did her shoulders and flanks. Her left shoulder boasted a nasty burn-- inconsequential to her movement, but impressive nonetheless. It was, all-in-all, no more than expected on the hide of any self-sufficient creature. Anyone with more pride than sense, that is. And a compulsive desire to do what you shouldn’t.
What you shouldn’t…. Like following Heyel for a moment alone. She had an inkling of a suspicion that his ilk cared little for the crass loner-turned-pack wolf, especially when the beastie in question was their revered leader-father’s imprint. With Zeivah gone, well… to be honest, it wasn’t so long ago that she would have gladly had an affair with a handsome male promised to another-- but never him. Chiefly because she had hated his guts, but then there was a time when she took favorably to him, and she would never have crossed that line out of respect. Imagine that. She had to hand it to him, a charmer of his degree and yet so faithful that he settled for being an annoying ass instead of an adulterer.
Now it was she who did the stalking. She followed his trail to the western crater, where she felt out his presence with her newly-discovered Heyel-sense. The soil was moist and the greenery lush, suggesting an abundance of water feeding into this part of the crater. Soon enough her ears detected the sound of water, of a multitude of falls lining the crater walls. She let his scent guide her to the nearest pool, a reclusive site bordered by the jungle itself. She slips in behind him, and her ears turn to catch his words with a half-smirk on her lips. ”If it means a little less arrogance and narcissism I wouldn’t despair it too much,” She says as she comes in along his right side to the water’s edge, her tail fanning to trail, feather-like, across his flank. “Of course, you were always one to prove me wrong.”
I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.
FEMALE || TWELVE || FORMERLY OF TRENUS || IMPRINTED TO HEYEL