Fiammetta hardly understood why she made her way back to that place as she did, traversing the same path to the water's edge day in and day out, as though she could rewind time and right the injustice done to her. She stood on the sodden banks of the lake, mud bubbling up between her claws and oozing across her spotless white paws until they became dirty mounds indistinguishable from the rest of the earth around her. She felt a part of the landscape, her smouldering gaze burning out across the wind-ruffled blue surface as her tiny frame swayed in time to the reeds. To any who looked upon her, she would have seemed peaceful and at ease, although that because they could not possibly guess what storms broiled in her restless heart.

Lately she felt like a stranger inside of her own skin, as though it no longer welcomed her since she had committed her unspeakable crime. Her mind, her very soul was torn with the knowledge of it, her once mind-numbing hunger for revenge both tempered and worsened by the expression on the face of the poor, stricken fatale she had unwittingly attacked. She had savaged the youngster gleefully, every mouthful of flesh a small victory on her part, until those two terror-filled eyes had sought her own. She shuddered at the memory of how pity had twisted her gut so that she had wretched out every drop of blood that had trickled down her throat, rage and guilt eating away at her so that she had not eaten nor groomed her filthy pelt for days afterwards while she remained locked in her invisible cell of self-loathing. Only once she had managed to free herself from her prison, did she begin to ruminate on what had come to pass, deciding that the sins of the black wolf who had maimed her were the ultimate reason for her own transgression. Perhaps that was why she wondered down to the banks of the Aplos each afternoon, hoping she would again spy the black murderess and finally be granted the revenge that had been so cruelly snatched from between her paws. Even the thought of sinking her teeth into the hated flesh caused a ripple of pleasure to lance along her spine, although she cooled her passion with caution, lest she make the same mistake twice.

A chilly breeze startled her from her twisted thoughts and she turned her good side towards it, shielding her naked body from the bite. Despite everything that had happened to her, the young wolf still believed in fate, and knew in her heart of hearts that the fire had blessed her, and had called her for something, some ultimate end to which she must spend her entire life working. She did not yet know exactly what this was, but she was beginning to guess at it, and it required sacrifices on her part that she wasn't yet sure she was willing to make. Thus she returned everyday to the same spot, the spot where her blood had left her body so willingly, and stared out into nothingness, readying her soul for what would have to be done next.

Off to her right, a duck quacked in alarm and began to race along the skin of the water, its wings beating a hurried tattoo. Fiam raised her head swiftly, removing her paws from the sucking mud and turning to face the forest at her back, keen eyes searching the undergrowth, wondering who she would see lurking there. She sniffed at the breeze, but the wind was at her back and she could smell nothing except her own perfume being wafted away from her and towards the invisible other that she could sense was watching. With a newfound patience born of too many mistakes, she said nothing and simply waited, her silhouette starkly outlined against the mirror-bright waves behind her, showing her cranially extending scapula but hiding the damaged side of her face. Her gaze narrowed and she raised her plumed banner in challenge, seeking out a familiar shape from amongst the cool, green shadows of the trees.

Fiammetta - Female - No Home - No Family - 5YO - 28 inches, 32 pounds