Many wolves looking for relaxation come to Blossom Field. A gentle breeze vibrating the blossoming flowers is quite a sight to see and it is quite a favourite for wolves to come with their mates.

A recent fire has ruined the scenery, half the field covered with soot and marked with scars of the flames. The other half is untouched, however.

Refresh/Reload

Drowning in Memory
IP: 164.107.153.58

wolf




He stares cooly at her with a look she cannot quite read. Slowly, steadily, he creeps toward her, his weight threatening to break the dead trunk that he has claimed as his throne. Each step closer, she thinks it will be his last and expects him to collapse into an explosion of molded splinters and ash, the opposite way of how a phoenix would arise anew. It is almost intimidating the way that he nears him, either unaware or unafraid of the crackling wood beneath him, not bothering to peer at the bark to make his next step. No… instead the entire time his gaze is upon her. Apollonia stands her ground and lowers her haunches to the charred earth, unamused by his antics but still waits patiently for an answer, any answer. Finally, his advance slows and then stops. Her nape turns as she cocks her head, confused by his sudden change. The stoic cold form has suddenly become mobile and active, with a light smile painted upon his lips and his plume sweeping delicate black flakes from the trunk’s surface. But it does nothing to put her more at ease for what is more important is his eyes, a gaze that throughout his transformation has not changed. Though the eyes and the face are different and the body and the wolf are different, the gaze remains the same. He is so similar to Harries that she nearly raises his hackles in warning before attacking… but no. This is not Harries, he is not even a kalak. But is a dark beast - of that she has no doubt. But because it is not Harries, the one wolf of her nightmares, no fear fills her. Only a mild intrigue swirled with distrust, especially as his lips part and spew forth lyrical enigmas.

’Perhaps for the same reason as you? To understand. In the mind, beauty is ephemeral- the flowers are pretty, but even before they wilt, your mind grows accustomed to them and they begin to fade into the background of your perception. But pain... The memory of pain can be eternal. You never ask why a blossom is pretty, but your mind can't stop itself from asking why you were hurt- to the point that even seeing devastation is... Enrapturing.’ She was given nothing of a straight answer, but instead something roundabout that she could not quite follow. But what she took away from it was his admiration for the utterly complete destruction that surrounded them. As he turned his gaze away from her, she felt relief. With his piercing eyes upon her, she felt as if he could read her confusion clear as day, and now it felt as if she had a calming room in which to process his words even as his monologue continued. ‘The field is lovely. Lovely, and thriving, and those who bask in it are blissfully capable of focusing on the beauty of this world. But this... Ruination... Stole my breath away more than the most spectacular sunset on the meadow could've- if for a different reason. And so I came...Aren't you the same?

Apollonia rose to her paws and began to circle the fallen tree and the wolf who lorded over it. Tilting her cranium first to the right and then to the left, as if weighing her varied opinions, she peered about, trying to see the land as he saw it. “I suppose yes… and yet also no. I often come to this place because of what I see in it, and what I see is both beautiful and terrible. This land parallels, at least to me, life and death as they truly are. To the gods, there is an ultimatum upon everything, and thusly are we fools to think otherwise. We like to see the shades of gray so that we can make ourselves happy by lying to each other and ourselves. But those around us are only friend or enemy, prey or predator. We either are within a pack or are loners. We like to say that we live where we like, but that is not the way of the wolf - we are pack animals and it is a falsehood to claim elsewise. And so to me I appreciate both the ash and the flowered parts of this place for they are yin and yang and you cannot have one without the other.” She paused and trained her eyes upon the circular path she had now formed in the ash, and smiled bitterly, knowing that with the next strong gust of with, her prints upon the world would be gone. “But if I had to choose a side… I would choose the dead. Memories cannot hurt you any more than ghosts can, and I would much prefer to stay within the darkness and ensure the safety of the light for others. My sins are my own, and no one else should have to suffer them due to their fault or my own.



"I will vanquish all evil," She growls.

{Apollonia} :: {Femme Fatal} :: {Adult} :: {Tied to None} :: {Cold Summers} :: {Relations to Clementine, Bowen}



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