in every definition of the word, eriel had broke.

insanity had claimed her without hesitation when kirastasia had disappeared without a trace. she had begged for death, pleaded with the gods to take her from this life, and when they had not answered her pleas, she had asked the devil to claim her soul. she didn’t eat, sleep, drink. her body had wasted away day by day, and still death would not come to her. eriel had thrown fits wild enough to wake the dead, had been pushed closer and closer to the edge of misty mountain, almost too prepared to take her own life. in her shattered mind, the hell beneath her paws would have been a better option than the hell she was living. she was inconsolable; first, romulus had crushed and beaten her tremulous heart and then kirastasia, her darling little snowbird, had begun to heal the damage, only to wreck her own havoc on what remained. so much had been taken from her, all except the life she no longer wanted. she hated fate, she hated the world, she wanted, truly and deeply, to die.

and just when she thought she might, finally, pass on - instinct had taken hold. had forced her to rise when her limbs had been but bones covered in thin flesh and felt too weak to hold her malnourished body, had forced her to scavenge off of the carcasses of prey and wolf alike. her morals stood no chance against her survival instincts, even if she had been in her right mind. and when winter came, when the young males thought they could con the fragile, helpless, and exotically beautiful woman into their beds - well, their bodies had sustained her when prey was scarce. how many had died at her teeth? how many times had she committed such a sin against morality and her kind? her instinct-addled brain did not know, nor care. who knows how long she stayed in that state, held captive by base instinct? when summer had just begun, it had began to retreat. she could now see time passing, was able to have desires that were not specifically tied to survival: she could want to be clean, or to swim instead of retreat to her den when the sun was high.

instinct was still her master, rational thought still it’s slave. so much damage had been done to the poor creature: romulus had triggered the mental break, and the tremulous time of healing kirastasia had created had been destroyed by the very same snowbird. she had not seen her white knight in so very long, eriel doubted that the princess would recognize her. the phoenix was not sure that she even wanted to see kirastasia. still, she had her moments of sanity and each passing day they got longer and longer: her brain finally deciding that she could handle whatever horrors lingered within her psyche. how her mother would have cried for her child: the last daughter of a war boy and a goddess, a fallen princess. as it was, she was still unaware of the hell that had arrived at cold summer’s borders. ignorance was bliss.

as teal oceans opened, the firebird gave her surroundings a cursory glance. the area she had made her den in was so thickly layered with the scent of her aggression and fear and ‘stay away’, she would have been shocked if someone had dared approach. eriel unwound herself gracefully, sliding her front legs away from her in a long stretch. nighttime had become her time of wandering, the moon starring as her guide and her friend. the likelihood of others wandering was so slim, it was her personal haven. as she made her way through the darkened forest, the ginger beast caught scent of a fawn. without a thought, she began a loping trot after the fawn as her stomach growled quietly. it didn’t take her long to get near to the thing, it’s bleating cries for it’s mother easily leading her to it. she had warned off a coyote not long before she stumbled away, a flash of teeth and a warning growl enough to convince it to stay away from her piece of prey. she was not necessarily in peak condition, but the months of living on instinct had built up wiry muscles. she would have been able to take on the coyote, no problem, but as far as other wolves went - well, so long as she stuck to the being quick on her feet and striking as close to the jugular as possible, she might be able to survive.

it did not take her long to dispatch the animal and she tored into it, teeth lacking any manners or grace as she ate. few thoughts flashed through the woman’s mind as she ravaged the carcass, at least, not until a twig snapped not far from where she was. eriel’s elegant crown snapped up, bloody muzzle parted slightly as she inhaled deeply. sharp teal eyes searched through the darkness around her as sound destroyed the silence of the forest, charcoal lips crawling up and over bloody canines. ”who’s there?” she called, voice rusty with disuse and harsh with aggression, a far cry from the melodic notes she had once used. without waiting for an answer, the fallen angel leapt forward, disregarding the carcass. eriel plowed into the darkened forest, wet breath huffing from her parted maw. a flash of movement there, a whiff of a woman’s perfume on the branches around her. eriel froze, heartbeat thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings as hope, desperate and destructive, flooded her. it was kirastasia, finally! her white knight had returned! as she began to trace the faint hint of scent, disappointment ate away at the hope in her breast. kira’s scent was distinctive, as individual and unique as the wearer. this was a stranger, and not nearly as healthy smelling as her darling had always been. she turned away slowly, trudging back to the dead fawn, even as her appetite slowly died away.

as she broke through the trees, teal eyes widened and then narrowed at the silhouette standing above her fawn. she didn’t say a word, cautiously eying the other female in silence. her anger had died away in the face of her disappointment and she was reluctant to fight. she was almost tempted to just leave the woman and the carcass, but instinct demanded she stay: this was far too close to her den for her to be comfortable. she could see the stranger off, let them drag the fawn along with them, or possibly have her first interaction in who knows how long. so she remained deathly still, allowing the other to dictate the situation. it was not a comfortable position to willingly put herself in, but something that wasn’t based solely on instinct insisted she let it happen.