The sun was warm upon her back, the wind fresh and the day had offered her a shred of company from which she could glean joy. Fiammetta sighed in something like contentment as Atlas approached, his tail wagging furiously as she reassured him of his welcome back into her life. With a dip of his head that filled the white fatale with sheepishness, the male came to a halt a few paces away. His serious, sincere eyes met her own and did not move from her face when she spoke, although she noted how one corner of his jowls lifted in a mirthless smirk. She frowned, genuinely abashed that she wasn't as funny as she had initially thought, but was distracted from her musings by her own voice as she found herself questioning the lad. Fiam immediately regretted her prodding into his personal affairs for Atlas' visage became drawn and troubled, and his eyes dropped to his paws as if he couldn't bear to look at her. An odd emotion struck her as he glanced away, an emptiness as potent as it was surprising, and she took a sharp intake of breath, her eye widening in shock.

It was not often that the fiery little fea was left speechless, but her tongue felt too thick to form a reply to the monochrome boy's statement about visiting his sire and dam. She focused on trying to regain full command of her faculties, but only managed a nod before he spoke again. His new message lanced her through the heart and she gasped once more, trying to understand what was happening to her but failing quite completely. Perhaps it was the fire, or fate, or both trying to tell her what path she should choose to secure her future, or perhaps she had simply forgotten in her life as a loner that the heart is its own master. Whatever it was though, it had her by the throat and, when it released its grip, her lyrical voice poured from her thick and fast as blood from a wound, and yet sweeter than anything that had left her lips before, “Stay with me. I could show you what the life of a loner can be. We could forge a path brighter than any laid down in Moladion before. With the fire to lead us, we could burn this landscape, purge it of the virus that is eating it from the inside out, like wormwood in an oak tree.” She came to a stop, breathless and embarrassed, and heat prickled beneath her pelt that originated not from the sun but from inside her own body. She felt like a teenager again, and she silently berated herself for her stupidity, blaming the onset of winter for her impetuous speech.

When Atlas next conversed with her, she felt her heart tighten and her soul quiver, but he was merely replying to words she had, in her haste, forgotten that she had ever spoken. He seemed even more sincere and bent on revenge than he had before, and she wondered if the sight of her damaged body drove him to such heights of anger. Good, let him seethe with hatred for the black bitch, let him writhe in nightmares where he swam in rivers of her blood. If he agreed to stand with her, Fiam would personally see to it that they both got their revenge. She had already exacted her wrath on the nameless girl's imprint, the memory of his blood on her lips a joy in which she revelled. And if she, Fiammetta, could take on the gargantuan knight of Moladion and not go down then surely she could kill the slightly built wench who had so brutally savaged her on the night of The Burning?

Atlas had been forgotten in her thought's momentary meanderings, but his scent reminded her in whose presence she stood and she tactfully averted her eye once more to the river, avoiding his face. Sheepishness still coursed through her veins, and her reckless emotions demanded reigning in. Atlas was younger and therefore more vital than she, and he would most likely never stand with a battered dog who wore such a terrifying mask. Yet, even the slightest hope that he would filled her with excitement, and she couldn't face reality for all the beautiful imaginings that coursed through her mind's eye. Where in the world she had taken a liking to the naïve and stuttery lad she didn't know, but the fire's of fancy had burnt her fierce, and they demanded to be fed.




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