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Her daughter jerks away from her affection and speaks with a tone so cold, and she does what she has not done in many moons; she flinched. Unable to hide the core-shocking feeling, she does not hide her pain as she speaks, confusion mixed in with all about her daughter that quells her. “You are my child, I carried and birthed you, and I am your mother, of course I care,” Her tone verges on disbelief, but maintains an order that threatens to break underneath. It does not bother her so much that her child had called her by her first name, but that she seemed to harbour an unkown agression for her, created out of thin air and misinterpretation. She had failed in teaching the girl the ways of the world apparently, and thus sparking a pain unknown to the dark woman from [for once] someone she had not meant to hurt. While Nemesis had not directly hurt the girl, perhaps, it was her absense of known affection that troubled the other. In that case, the fault could be blamed entirely on her, a fact that both brought her realization and guilt. But it did not bring her regret. The line between her duty to the pack and her duty to her children was blurred but nevertheless, duty to the greater good bound her; her time was well spent keeping them all from anarchy and death, a well enough justified reason for her distance. A reason that no child would care to understand. “I love you, Astrid ...you are my only living daughter,” She could not explain in words to a stubborn girl how much she meant, and as she observed upon the shrinking girl, the scars made way for maternal rage and she peers closer with a growing thudding in her heart.
Optics draw over each slash against her daughter's skin with an unparrallelled fury, that her child has been tainted with marks far beyond what she knows her daughter is able to give in return. “Who has done this to you?” Her tone does a 180', chilling and furious, demanding and most of all, regret. Regret that she had not seen it sooner, that her child now bears makrs not rightfully recieved. “You will tell me who has done this to you,” There is little room for defiment as thunder rolls in her voice, a tone that suggests she will not rest until the attacker is made known, and persecuted for their daring insult upon her child's body, no matter who it may be.
[/td][td valign=center] [/td][/tr][/table]Optics draw over each slash against her daughter's skin with an unparrallelled fury, that her child has been tainted with marks far beyond what she knows her daughter is able to give in return. “Who has done this to you?” Her tone does a 180', chilling and furious, demanding and most of all, regret. Regret that she had not seen it sooner, that her child now bears makrs not rightfully recieved. “You will tell me who has done this to you,” There is little room for defiment as thunder rolls in her voice, a tone that suggests she will not rest until the attacker is made known, and persecuted for their daring insult upon her child's body, no matter who it may be.
the only way to keep your people loyal is
to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy
to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy
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Messages In This Thread
I am the child of an ugly star - by Nocturnal - February 21, 2017, 03:39 PM
RE: I am the child of an ugly star - by Atshen’s Ghost - February 22, 2017, 06:12 PM
RE: I am the child of an ugly star - by Nemesis - February 23, 2017, 04:39 PM
RE: I am the child of an ugly star - by Nocturnal - February 23, 2017, 05:05 PM
RE: I am the child of an ugly star - by Nemesis - February 23, 2017, 05:45 PM
RE: I am the child of an ugly star - by Nocturnal - February 25, 2017, 12:28 PM