K U S H I N A
Fores pound against the tundra, kicking up pieces of soil behind my red russet form as I sprint into a field. Every other moment, I take a chance look back, navy aqua stargazers narrowed in determination, yet their edges are laced with a sort of… unspoken fear, if you may. Gales streak through the two layers of derma, filtering through my fluffy winter one, but stopping dead at my undercoat. I hate my pelt color. It reminds me of blood, and crimson liquid is not exactly the thing I like best. The good thing about it is that I’m not all red. I have pallid ‘jodpurs’ on the inside of my fores, which flash on either side every time my pillars move. I tear through the trees that were once hundreds of tail-lengths away, not even paying attention as branches scrape my visage and draw thin lines of (oh the irony), blood. I can literally taste the tension in my mug. They’re after me, the mind screams in terror, they’re after me! Kill, kill, kill, not enough of it… haven’t they had their fill! Taking a sharp left, I turn my feminine crown again and let out a small sigh of relief. I’m still on my guard, but I allow myself to slow down a little bit. It would seem that they are no longer following me… though I highly doubt that they’ve given up.
My chest cavity rises and falls quickly, in a show that I am indeed short of breath (jee no kidding). My baby pink tongue lolls out of my jowls, dripping saliva as I continue at a fast trot. I’ve never been much of a runner, but in dire times you must take dire measures. I have taken those measures. Numbness fills through my pistons, adrenaline drips over my large red organ that pounds against my ribs. I am coated in sweat and mud. How absolutely vile a world this is. But… where am I? Slowing down yet again to a regular trot, my red rock dial spins to face my right, then left, and finally right again. Although my larynx is dry and I can still hear the wind whispering in my audettes (although it’s no longer screaming past me), my cold nares pick up the faint scent of vargs. Vargs… my pistons hit the brakes. I’d just been running from a place that had considered me an outsider… a thing that didn’t belong in their midst. No one had even come after to help me… Was I willing to go into another land where my chances at belonging still may be nothing but below one percent?
It’s something I don’t want to do, but it would seem now that I am not the one who is in charge of my own body. Lookers scan the arena I’ve come to, as if looking for the coliseum that a gladiator from ancient times would face his worst nightmare in. Hell, it’s not an understatement to say that I am indeed frightened. But I am also angry, and oh so very sad. Would I ever find a place where I was able to fit in just like every other wolf? Paws glide to a totally different clearing, and my inner compass spins out of control. Is this…? Talons rake up against the border line and I hesitate. My perfume will filter through the territory soon enough, but my voice is what will announce that I am indeed here… alive… and in need of… of what? Comfort? Shelter? A haven? A home? No… none of those things. I feel my shoulders tilt back. The sweat is starting to dissipate from my fiery canvas, and my hackles have lowered a while ago. My tassel curls at the end and I throw my singer upwards to the graying atmosphere. A storm will be coming soon, and I don’t want to be drenched when I am greeted. A symphony rummages past the tiny yet lethal bone daggers in my mouth. It’s a requiem. I realize this after the strong voice has escaped in its entirety from my kissers. Thunder drums above, and soft drops of rain begin to fall. The sun is already at its lowest point, so my form is barely visible to any animal without the glorius power to see in the dark… save for the white that coats my underbelly and the inside of my pillars.
This was my last chance. I was either going to prove myself to be one of the most desired soldiers out there… both to myself and to the regal of the unknown land I was at the borders of… or I was going to give up entirely. The rain pours from the heavens, getting steadily heavier with each passing minute. As it slices through my fluffy derma, it pats down the fur and I slowly start to doubt myself with every raindrop… I wonder know if I had even let my voice ring through the area at all.
Princess || Adult || Loner || Loveless
word count: 837
k i k i
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