Those who do not move
Do not notice their chains
It just didn’t seem right, that’s all. Weren’t wolves meant to have free will in their lives? They had been made in the image of their gods who were all powerful and all knowing, but they had been given their freedom. Whether that had been for the entertainment of the gods or as a mercy or as a curse, that was how it was supposed to be. But apparently, due to the blood that ran in her veins, due to who her father was, her ancestry, her genetics, she had been actually cursed by the gods and stripped of the majority of her free will. She was created with a single purpose - to protect the tiny, little, delicate wolves who were painted with the most intricate colors of the rainbow. That’s it. That was what she was on the earth for, to be a protection detail, especially against the dark themed wolves called the vampires. What if she wanted to be a healer? What if she wanted to be a hunter? What if she wanted to be a pacifist, and never fight? It didn’t matter that since the time she could make her own choices she had wanted to be a warrior - now that young Tempest firmly believed that it had not been her choice at all, but rather had been the magic pushing her in the direction she was supposed to go in. And as for love? What was love, really, if she didn’t get to choose who she spent it with? What was love if there was a path plan for her that could lead to ultimate bliss or terrible destruction? She didn’t want the ultimatum of a soulmate - it was true, perhaps she would be lucky and end up like her parents - perfectly completely in love and happy. But what if she bonded with a monster? What if she bonded with the worst sort of wolf imaginable? What if he was vicious, sadistic, a murderer? She would be driven to kill him, and then her heart would never truly be able to be complete. If she killed her soulmate, she would never be able to have kids, never be able to pass on her legacy. But did she really want to pass it on anyway? Did she really want to pass the handcuffs of her genetics on to a new generation?
Qiturah‘s hair bristled, and she got up from the little makeshift den that she had been calling her home. As soon as she had turned from a mortal into an Oferweder, she had started to refuse to sleep in her parent‘s den. She resented the fact that Vladimir had kept all of the secrets for so long - she had wished that she knew what exactly was coming. Maybe she would not hate the creature that she was so much right now she had known the truth from the beginning. The full truth that is. Bits of frost fell from the tips of her hairs- winter was nearly upon them, and the nights were brutally cold, especially since she had apparently inherited the thin coat of her mother, meant for warmer climates where winter never took hold. The den that she had made for herself was narrow, but long, and so protected her from the worst of it. Even still, her brown and russet brindled coat felt cold upon her flesh - there was no insulation, no fluff, no undercoat to keep her warm. Luckily, it was still autumn, and the sun should be bright enough to warm her. The lass army crawls out from underneath the ground, dirt settling deep within the hairs so that when she finally emerges, she’s mainly just brown. She knows that the den will never work for the oncoming winter – after all, she could get blocked in by any heavy snowfall, and without the body heat of others, if it got cold enough she could freeze. She would either have to make a friend to share the warmth with or else return to her family. She had faced her father at the pack meeting, but had not said much to him, other than the simplest of greetings, that is. Would he even allow her back in the den?
At any rate, going back home was not really the ideal situation. She still had issues with her father she need to hash out, but more than that, she had issues with herself. She hated her own DNA, the rules and restrictions placed upon her she found herself made Qiturah want to rebel against the system in any way she could. Previously, she had avoided others, terrified of meeting her soulmate, terrified of what it would mean. But now? She would meet up with as many wolves she could until she found her soulmate, and then she would choose to simply have nothing to do with them. She would not love them, she would not hate, she would do the best to treat them those with as little emotion as possible. And more than that? Qi was determined to fall in love on her own terms - screw the whole soulmate thing. Her body shook as she released all the dirt that had caught itself in between the fibers, and then she let loose a call. She did not much care who responded, come what may, she was determined to make her own choices. Be friends with who she wanted, hate who she wanted, love who she wanted. If she had enough willpower, surely… surely it could be done?
Qiturah | Vladimir x Seraphina | Ziva, AsmundIkuseghan, Roan, Maui, Liora | Teenager | Lonely Heart | No Legacy
