Post by Eclipse on Jun 15, 2010 2:18:52 GMT -6
Nikita, a lone lonely fae, trudged across the barren rock, narrowly avoiding cutting herself on the sharp rocks that towered and spiraled around her, remnants of an ancient lake. She was sure it had once been a majestic place, in its full glory and beauty, full of life and love and danger. A place for animals to come, providing food, water, a resting place, nourishment. It had been required for life to go on as it had for so long.
Then the sun took its toll, and the great lake had evaporated, dehydrating and starving those who had relied on it so long. It didn't simply die quietly, affecting no one but its self. It brought hundreds down with it.
Nikita found such a tragic history and background to be the perfect place for her to live in, where she could mourn her life away. She had seen awful things in her day, and now she could simply sit and think, affecting no one, seeing no one, loving no one. And when she died, it would be quiet, and affect not a soul. No one would even know, and they never would. Because no one cared enough to look for her. Unless the dead would.
She found a small crag finally, just big enough for her to move around comfortably. Another wolf or two could fit here as well, if they wanted. But no one did, so she would simply inhabit a big space. Better for mourning, when your very home reminded you of your losses...
Nikita was laying down, curled into a ball in the corner, nose tucked under her tail, her eyes dry. She had long since spilled her last tear, yet her mind would not rest.
She was a beautiful wolf, pitch black with storm gray shag and stripes along her lower body and under her eyes, which were an amazing golden amber color. She was slim, with long legs and a slight weight, which could make her an astonishing runner, especially once paired with her thick tail, made for amazing balance.
Now she sat up, eyes staring into the distance, thoughts racing as fast as her heart beat slow.
As a pup she had watched her mother be sexually abused by her father everyday. Actually, she herself was proof of the abuse, as he had raped her and forced her to choose to become pregnant. The family had lived in the True Forest. Her brothers were murdered before her eyes, her father killing each one in a different way.
Nako had been ripped from limb to limb, not dieing until the ripping flesh, muscle, and bone had reached his heart and brain.
Her twin, Nikito, had been forced into a river, struggling fiercely until he drowned, then his body had been left to float downstream, where she later found it being fed on by ravens and rats. She had buried what was left of him.
Kyta, the youngest, simply disappeared one day, and was never seen again.
The oldest, Bran, was simply tortured, first as her father ripped every body part a brute could prize in such a forest from his body, then as he tore his flesh apart before slitting his throat with a deft stroke of his fangs.
Her sisters and herself replaced her mother when she died, they were age two years. No one was ever sure how she died exactly, though the obvious suspect was her father. There came a day when no one even blinked as he closed in on them, taking from their young, ripe bodies as he pleased.
Nikita grew full of rage and hurt at her father, though she hid it well. Finally she just exploded and attacked, ripping her father apart all alone. From that day on, she was filled with the guilt of murdering her own father, though he didn't deserve to live. Still, she had taken a life.
Her sisters hadn't hated him as much as she did, simply taking his actions as the norm, and turned on her when they found what she had done. They attacked her, and drove her from their lands, her barely making it out with her life.
And that was simply the beginning of her terrible life. Only the first three years of her five years. And the worst was yet to come. Much more had happened to her since then, so who could blame her for wanting to die alone in this cold, cruel land?
Would anyone care, or would she be left here to die? Or even worse, would some new form of trouble come to make her depression even worse?
Then the sun took its toll, and the great lake had evaporated, dehydrating and starving those who had relied on it so long. It didn't simply die quietly, affecting no one but its self. It brought hundreds down with it.
Nikita found such a tragic history and background to be the perfect place for her to live in, where she could mourn her life away. She had seen awful things in her day, and now she could simply sit and think, affecting no one, seeing no one, loving no one. And when she died, it would be quiet, and affect not a soul. No one would even know, and they never would. Because no one cared enough to look for her. Unless the dead would.
****
She found a small crag finally, just big enough for her to move around comfortably. Another wolf or two could fit here as well, if they wanted. But no one did, so she would simply inhabit a big space. Better for mourning, when your very home reminded you of your losses...
****
Nikita was laying down, curled into a ball in the corner, nose tucked under her tail, her eyes dry. She had long since spilled her last tear, yet her mind would not rest.
She was a beautiful wolf, pitch black with storm gray shag and stripes along her lower body and under her eyes, which were an amazing golden amber color. She was slim, with long legs and a slight weight, which could make her an astonishing runner, especially once paired with her thick tail, made for amazing balance.
****
Now she sat up, eyes staring into the distance, thoughts racing as fast as her heart beat slow.
****
As a pup she had watched her mother be sexually abused by her father everyday. Actually, she herself was proof of the abuse, as he had raped her and forced her to choose to become pregnant. The family had lived in the True Forest. Her brothers were murdered before her eyes, her father killing each one in a different way.
Nako had been ripped from limb to limb, not dieing until the ripping flesh, muscle, and bone had reached his heart and brain.
Her twin, Nikito, had been forced into a river, struggling fiercely until he drowned, then his body had been left to float downstream, where she later found it being fed on by ravens and rats. She had buried what was left of him.
Kyta, the youngest, simply disappeared one day, and was never seen again.
The oldest, Bran, was simply tortured, first as her father ripped every body part a brute could prize in such a forest from his body, then as he tore his flesh apart before slitting his throat with a deft stroke of his fangs.
Her sisters and herself replaced her mother when she died, they were age two years. No one was ever sure how she died exactly, though the obvious suspect was her father. There came a day when no one even blinked as he closed in on them, taking from their young, ripe bodies as he pleased.
****
Nikita grew full of rage and hurt at her father, though she hid it well. Finally she just exploded and attacked, ripping her father apart all alone. From that day on, she was filled with the guilt of murdering her own father, though he didn't deserve to live. Still, she had taken a life.
Her sisters hadn't hated him as much as she did, simply taking his actions as the norm, and turned on her when they found what she had done. They attacked her, and drove her from their lands, her barely making it out with her life.
****
And that was simply the beginning of her terrible life. Only the first three years of her five years. And the worst was yet to come. Much more had happened to her since then, so who could blame her for wanting to die alone in this cold, cruel land?
Would anyone care, or would she be left here to die? Or even worse, would some new form of trouble come to make her depression even worse?
