Greatwater Lake When remembering a life lost

Olive shot through the landscape, absconding deeper into the sinister woods and maneuvering between the portentous timbers. Her body, small and featherlight, made a audacious haste to outrun her own fear: fear that she had made a huge mistake. The pallid interloper refused to look behind, could not look behind, for fear that Dakarai had not followed her in a desperate, loving pursuit. Had she sacrificed herself to Blackfeather for his freedom? Was Dakarai now, in her death, free of the shackles that bound him to her?  Her distressed ears swept down and behind, craning behind her for any ill-boding footfalls. If Dakarai had in fact not followed her, this would surely be her end. The end of her children. The end of a life worth living.

The dove fluttered and cried out as something wrenched her ankle, easily throwing her slight frame aside. Ivory, blunted knives grated down the tender bone of her leg in her pitch and she hit the ground hard. Hot pain flooded every nerve in her body; she was alight, on fire, helpless in the jaws of someone who meant her harm. Every kick of her delicate limb did nothing to fell her enemy and from her trembling lips spilled mournful yelps that accompanied every one of her contorted motions. She prepared herself for the sickening snap elicited from the snapping of a bone; as easy as snapping a twig.

Suddenly the hold on her ankle slackened and the lamb wrested herself free, quickly rolling and springing up in a stance of the utmost distress. Her black lips knocked op over gums as she snarled and a surge of energy pump pump pumped through her bloodstream. She was blinded by horror and it took several moments to realize that her raven knight had followed her and was ensnared with the devil. After the sight of him be beaten by the angered ungulate, this was the more horrific thing she had ever seen. Her love, who had achieved such peace not more than a week ago, was battling and drawing blood and hating. What had she done!

But he spoke words. He remembered. Could be it true? Did his memories come back or was this a momentary lapse in his fugue state; as he had experienced many times before? It was all too much to the feathered seraph and she lept into the air, twisting her airborne body and letting loose a long series of snarls, barks and yips as if she were some sort of macabre cheerleader. Dakarai wanted her to go but she would stay; she would never leave him. She would live by him and die by him — and if it happened to be today, at the behest of these hellions… then so be it.

Please skip over Olive for the next few turns, i’ll bring her back in if/when appropriate!