<font face=times size=1 color=#BD2A2A>THE DEVIL'S GOT NOTHING ON ME%01 MY FRIEND</font> myrhh

She had thought that her rage against Vitaliya was strong enough to sear entire forests, but after the death of Other Mother, she felt that her fury was enough to destroy worlds. Every time the thought of Eleanor's lifeless eyes crossed her mind, Vasily's chest heaved with the white-hot anger against it all, her eyes burned with tears born of wretched despair. Control was not something that she had, not over herself nor anything around her. It felt like the world had ended when her mother had died, and the one born anew was so much duller. The girl was liable to lash out at any moment, snap at anything that might come near her, and her emotions were almost palpable even from a distance. Those she saw strayed far from her, and it was for the best. She felt like a machine of destruction and would have no problem ripping out their throats and seeing their eyes grow sightless and lifeless.

This world had taken her mother from her, and though she could not take her back, she would do her damnedest to make them all suffer.

But it was days like this, when the crickets hummed and the river trickled lazily down its path, when the grass was green and the sky blue, when a gentle breeze tickled her fur as she sat in the shade of the willow trees, that the fury and the anger was replaced by shudders and sobs of absolute anguish. Vasily didn't want anyone to see her like this. Anger was viewed as strength, the desire for vengeance admirable. But sadness, tears, sobs- they were weak. Pathetic. She didn't want anyone to see her as the child that she still was. Because her little sisters, after the disappearance of their surviving parent, needed to know that weakness wasn't tolerated in this world. This stupid, fucked up world.

Vasily collapsed into the soft grass, her body shuddering as she sobbed and screamed and cursed everyone who had lived and died on this godforsaken planet. She let herself be weak, let herself be the little girl that Eleanor had chastised for getting dirty after a day out on the moors. The screams eventually abated to whispers as her throat grew hoarse, and she subsided from crying in fear of making herself mute like Indigo. Instead, she simply lay, head buried in her paws as the concessional sob shook her body, ones that she couldn't hold back. No one would see her, not out here, far from any inhabited place. They wouldn't hear her cries, muffled by the trees and the thick summer grasses. But she wanted so desperately to feel the touch of Eleanor's cold nose upon her back, to look up and see her narrowed gaze, hear her voice likely scolding her for crying about a problem instead of solving it.

But there was nothing to solve. Nothing would bring Eleanor back, and Vasily thought that that might be the worst part. She was always taught that there was always an option, always a choice, always something that one could do. But... there wasn't this time. There was nothing anybody could do.

VASILY

three | iromar | no heart | myrhh's soul

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