Post by † Demon † on Oct 2, 2005 16:41:16 GMT -5
Winter was fast approaching the lands these days. A pregnant moon constantly shone down on the crisp autumn landscape. And yet, the light of this moon sent an aura of trapping light over a dark mass of fur - the ebony fur of a large femme swaying at the water's edge; the border between two packs, the river marking the end. This shimmering moonlight taunted her image, distorted it as such, giving her the mere appearance of a dancing shadow - almost invisible to every varg's eye.
Sitting there, this shadowed beast would occasionally snarl, cringe, or sometimes look as though she was about to weep. If wanting to, this female could of course howl her pain away, dare her emotions to be expressed in the most cruelest ways of public manner. Yet, things were bad enough already - she didn't need any deranged co-drappa coming down to her again, trying to give pointless advice or sympathy; it only lead to more jealousy that way. But, despite how much she tried to fight herself - this mind she possessed was unstoppable. If she could shut it up for even a single minute, maybe it would give her some peace. Yet, peace would only bring severe nightmares once again - it was truly chaotic; even in sleep she couldn't hide from her reality. So, she just sat there, sat swaying in the moonlight - trying ever so desperately to stop thinking about it, but alas, the thoughts and torments seized to disappear.
Demon wasn't sure whether she should be angry and break everything in sight, be depressed so she could not move - or even to be something in-between these useless emotions. It felt like her whole world had ended in an instant, crashed down upon her leaving only the Gods to laugh at this creation. Yes, to some it would appear that she was being pathetic, clinging onto quarrels and arguments - wallowing in self pity, yet deep down, this ebony femme knew she had every single right to feel the way she did.
Many suns ago, everything seemed perfect. After living from birth in a lousy lifestyle, and not belonging to nothing or no one, she had finally met Markaz. Yet, not so long ago, that had vanished - along with her last rays of sanity; everything vanished from reach at that point in her life. Now, now she had let her guard down once again - let everything be swiped from her paws. Month after month, she had struggled to survive, to live in this deranged game called life. After what seemed like a year or so, she had finally managed to feel like a part of Koran; or thats what the illusion had felt like at the time. Building a life in Koran had not been an easy task, it had been a culture shock, and most times very lonely too. For a very long time, Demon had considered leaving - but then, Koran started to become home.
Then, just as suddenly as it had been, it turned as cold as it had started. Demon suddenly had no one once again. She felt like she didn't even have a place in the pack anymore - despite becoming the only main warrior they had these days. The alpha female, more so known as Tarkah had been very quiet about the lands - almost untraceable to all whom tried to find her. Frankly, her hatred was more or less directed to the Drappas daughter now - the reason being... well, the wench had stolen her pride and joy the day she accepted co-drappa position. For years and years, Demon had protected, and helped Tarkah. For suns on end, this beast had befriended Tarkah; showing her light in the shadows. And how was she repaid? By becoming second best. The loser in the match. Well, to say the very least, Demon had grown sour; almost insane with rage, and deepened jealousy. She craved to be co-drappa, to prove the world she was worthy of such a title. Yet, no one would give her such a chance.
Yet, from memory, the ebon femme recalled a promise made by the ivory alpha. A promise that followed the lines of that if Demon could regain her strengths, and gain a mate, then she could be handed the position on a silver plate. Yet, her hopes were dimmed. Despite Demon's near mating that was forming between herself and Nocturnia, the ebony beast felt as though her trust in Tarkah was fading, that her sister-like loyalties were burning away rather than building stronger.
Demon needed to regain this trust now, regain the word of the Drappa that her promise had not been more iron lies, and cheated spits of magma. If this became the case - that the ivory femme had cheated Demon, well, not even the mind of this beast could think of the consequences. All she knew now was that things were getting dangerous... and both, Tarkah and Demon were treading on very, very thin ice.
