fiammetta
by fire be purged
The sound of his name echoed like a song in her head, its syllables flowing like a river, repeating over and over until he was driven crazy by the name. Atlas. Her confusion was understandable, his actions towards her leading her to believe he loved her too, until the appearance of that brindled stranger on the bank of the pool. At that moment she could detect a subtle change in him, a shift in his focus, and her possessive nature had not been able to handle it. Thus, with neither explanation nor proof to aid her, she had left his presence and set to wondering again. Her muscles rippled magnificently beneath her pelt, and the infection that had been threatening to set in had subsided, so that only a few scabs were left to remind her of her ordeal with Eden. She would soon be fit enough to challenge again, and the only question in her mind was who would be her target.
It was sunrise, and Fiammetta enjoyed the cool air of the morning before the heat of summer broke through to scald her naked skin. She had very soon realized the disadvantage that her bareness put her at, and so she had learned to coat her pink flesh in mud to protect it from the harsh rays of the hot sun as it sought to blister her. Thankfully, it was too early to worry about such things, and she enjoyed the feeling of cleanliness that had become so rare to her as she wondered the fields. Her goal was as of yet unclear, but the silence and peacefulness of the early hours allowed her to finally empty her mind, so that the yoke she carried could be momentarily forgotten in her meanderings.
The undulation of the hills lulled her into contentment, so much so that she barely noticed the wolf who stood at the zenith of the hilltop until she had come up almost beside him. He was vaguely magnificent, with a pelt of steel and an intimidating height, but she remained unimpressed. Still, she could not walk away without letting him know of her embarrassing lack of concentration, and so she pretended that she had known of his presence all along, “It is magnificent in the golden glow of dawn, is it not?” Fiammetta did not look at the stranger, but she stood beside him with her good flank facing him, so that he would have been unable to see her ravaged right side with its lack of an eye and various burn marks. From the left she was just a normal female, albeit slightly smaller than average, and her pelt was luxurious and intact. She could even have been considered pretty, that is, until she turned around.
No Home - No Family - 6YO - 22 in, 32 lbs