these people keep to themselves,
She'd considered more than once to become more like her parents would have liked; more like her mother, so kind spirited and jovial, and more like her father, a man of honor and valor. But whenever she tried, she found her insides devoid and empty; what did she have to be jovial over? Her kind spirit had left her with the rest of the world. And honor? Valor? She had nothing to fight for besides her very life and, well, she hardly considered that worthy of honorable mention. She had no reason to change; nothing and nobody to do so for. Even if she found Kavik in the mess of the world, why would she change? He'd still need somebody to thieve food for him - somebody to dig him out of the graves he'd dig. She'd need to lie, cheat and sneak her way through the rest of the life simply because the world had decided it no longer needed Moladion. Now it had replaced it with some cheap knock off that she was doomed to walk - she'd been tied down to Moladion long ago. After the sky fell, she'd tried to leave but each and every time, she found herself on that damned outer crater.
The more she sat there in her own loneliness, the more that gaze of hopelessness turned into one of bitterness. The lake was a knock off; it wasn't the one her mother had taken her too. It didn't ripple in the same way and the Moon definitely did not glimmer in the same light; even the clearings weren't the same. It was only when she heard the approach of another did she force her features back into their composed, gentle forms; doe eyed, mouth fallen into a soft 'o'. From calloused to youthful in sixty seconds; masks had become her play things. It had been his politeness that had caught her off guard, her head tilted slightly before she caught herself once again. She offered him a broad smile, her delicate features kind and warm as her tail quivered about her in welcoming. Who did she wait for? Nobody, not really. Those she had waited for had long since failed to show; burnt away and dissipated with the rest of the world. What she waited for now was not a somebody but inspiration, the desire to change, just something to give her a reason for anything. She'd tried to find it herself; she had considered joining a pack but what would that give her? A lowly rank and an expectation. Besides, she doubted the world even wanted or needed Healers, what with Heyel's lot still kicking, and how often did a pack desire a thief? Her brows furrowed slightly then as she turned to face the male; she noticed the scars and the kindness within his voice. Ironic, really. She found herself wondering how many he had killed or maimed; his reasons for such actions. Warriors had always been a strange lot to the daughter of a Healer and Story Teller.
"I think we've all done enough waiting, don't you think?" her voice was quiet, soft against the breeze before she turned back to facing her Moon, "I think it's time we start searching; inspiration, the future. It's got to be out there still, right?"
She sighed then, quiet and easy as she lowered her gaze to watch out over the water. She had noticed some time before that the male neither smelt of a fresh kill nor of a pack; he, too, was a loner and it was loners that seldom held desirable items. The life of an opportunist was often enough a hit or miss; you won some but you often lost many. In the instances of loss, she was forced to partake in socialization - something she'd always been on the fence about. She enjoyed both the company of others but the company of loneliness was more than welcome, too.
"Do you have a name, wandering warrior?" she finally queried after some moments of silence, her dainty skull twisting once more to face him with a half-smile and tilted skull. Time to play.
all living in their own hell |
