I am struggling. I cannot carry this burden alone. I was told by my Empress that I would never be alone. The pack has been most accommodating and I appreciate it. They are kind to me, they are helpful, and I find myself quite glad that although we are a bit more solitude than other packs – we are capable of coming together to help one another. Though I am noticing that there is a shift within me. I...I don’t think I can grasp much about what is going on, because I feel not only depressed, but lost. Not just lost, but angered, and I am suffering from the pain, and yet my world has spun out of control. I’ve noticed something terrible about myself and it wasn’t how I thought about my child, no, it’s I can’t...maybe I can’t explain it, because I am not being the other half of me. I...I’m....I feel no, she is me, she is...
She thinks she knows there is something wrong with herself. Ever since the attack she had begun to change or perhaps worse. She remembered something her Mother whispered to her at night, something that seemed so very very long ago – and she did not think it could happen. Because she had never done it before...but...she had started to think about it. As she watched her daughter play, she wondered, what if. What if she allowed herself to succumb to the silent urges that she felt when she was near another wolf. There was rage, undoubtable ample rage, and she wanted nothing more than to release it. Yet she knows it is wrong and she does not do such a thing, and yet she wonders...what it would be like...
Crimson audits twitch back and forth as she listens to the dry and grating voice from the Alpha of Glorall. She understands that he would be angered at the fact she was violated. Yet she did not think that he would be angered at how her rapist was treated. Though as he mentions that she ought to have some sort of pleasure in a hunt makes her go still. Slowly she tilts her head upwards, allowing her deep amethyst eyes to stare into his own. She is quiet, so eerily quiet that it almost seemed unnatural. Her right crimson forepaw moves forward as she brings her body even closer to his own, destroying his personal space, as she brings her muzzle close to his ear. Softly she whispers to him not wanting anyone to hear, especially her daughter that remained sitting patiently at the entrance of their den.
“Eden...is it...I...is it wrong I want him dead? Is it...is it wrong sometimes I think perhaps...I should have killed Jinx?”
What she speaks sounds absolutely horrendous. This she knows. Once again her mind wanders down the dark path within her mind that seems to constantly beckon her. Her Mother told her that one day she would become a Monster and he worked very hard to prove her Mother wrong. She dedicated herself to serve her pack. She became the Consul, using her role to help her pack members any way she can, and the relationship with the other packs has been much better. However, she has yet to make a visit to Asteraia and she her Mother. Aithne had made that particular relationship between packs, which was good, but she would like to speak with her own Mother, to ask the questions that she dare not ask. Gently she lowers her head and places her forehead into his shoulder, a shaky sigh released as her eyes close, and she whispers softly again.
“Eden, I think...I think there is something wrong with me.”
Taking her head off his shoulder she turns her head around, tilting it upwards to look at him, her amethyst eyes holding a pleading urge, as she whispers to him such a terrifying thing she wished to never utter.
“Have you...have you ever had a dream or maybe an urge to kill another wolf?”