Being back in the Valley has left her in disarray, a stark contrast from the collected predator she has become. So near Easthollow — it reminds her of how it feels to be lonely. The deep pit of it settled at the bottom of her stomach, the cold exposed feeling blooming from her chest and wrapping around her shoulders. Utter misery — and its presence sparks her ire. It feels so grossly unfair, so tragic and infuriating that she should still be haunted by the ghosts of her past. Those silent judging silhouettes, painted pale and grey and brown, always watching as long as she lingers here.
She knows she cannot go back to her family. Yet something binds her still to this land, some unsatisfied need lurking in the back of her mind. She has unfinished business here, and she knows instinctively that she cannot leave until she sees it finished. And that is what has brought her here — lounging in the meadow, grooming herself idly to rid herself of the blood from her last kill — a young woman like herself, desperate and pleading at the end. The scent of it clings to her still, and will for some time, but she can at least make herself presentable in case any of her beloved family members show their faces.
She knows she cannot go back to her family. Yet something binds her still to this land, some unsatisfied need lurking in the back of her mind. She has unfinished business here, and she knows instinctively that she cannot leave until she sees it finished. And that is what has brought her here — lounging in the meadow, grooming herself idly to rid herself of the blood from her last kill — a young woman like herself, desperate and pleading at the end. The scent of it clings to her still, and will for some time, but she can at least make herself presentable in case any of her beloved family members show their faces.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »