February 27, 2018, 03:48 PM
eske does not intend to be gone from drageda for more than a few hours and accordingly does not venture too far from dragoncrest cliffs. she just feels the pressing need for a little space to clear her head. patrols, which were once what she turned to, were no longer as therapeutic for her as they'd once been. not with the ankyra sound pack on their doorstep. the collar around her neck remains and though she would never admit it out loud to anyone eske has begun to grow used to it's presence. she can now block it out most days. there are some days when it bothers her more than others but nothing they'd tried had freed her from it. she doesn't know what it is or it's purpose but she hesitantly assumes that it's not harmful. it's an annoyance but it hasn't hurt her ...and it hasn't hurt any of her packmates either, even those who tried to unsuccessfully gnaw it off of her. she has declassified it in her mind as a potential threat but thus far benevolent. she pauses to briefly nibble at an itch on her leg and pushes forward when she's finished, utterly unperturbed by the charred mess of a territory she moves through.
— your hands are wet with the blood
of an empire. you lick it off.
of an empire. you lick it off.
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