Greatwater Lake When remembering a life lost

not totally sure that it's my post, but it felt right :)

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Time sped up a thousand times when she entered the melee and Olive found herself dizzied and dazzled by the quickness of it at; she simply flailed about ineffectively, attempting to cause as much disruption to their strategy as possible, but there was no rhyme nor reason behind her frenetic movements and she felt so ineffective and slow, as if thrashing in molasses, while the brawl continued on freely around her. Her vision blurred except to view flashes of fangs around her being and she yelped from desperation and fright, throwing her body to and fro, bucking up and kicking her legs out, in a dramatic and animalistic fashion —but then there was an impact that knocked the breath from her lungs and she felt an otherworldly type of pain sear into her shoulder. Olive whipped her head, eyes wild, to glimpse at the small boy who had twisted and brutalized her ankle just moments before — now latched onto the shoulder, her thin pale pelt and delicate skin rolling in his jaws. She immediately felt wetness as her blood was brought forth by his driving fangs and she railed against such pain, pulling away from him spasmodically, attempting to wrench her shoulder from his strong springtrap jaws. 

But then Dakarai’s voice — small, begging, desperate — gave her pause and the waif ceased her thrashing movements. Olive paused with her tender shoulder still clamped in the jaws. The wastrel watched in horror as her dark knight forfeited himself, exposing his most vulnerable areas, to the jaws of their leader. The hellish sight disturbed her yet she could not look away from the sight of her husband [the father of her children] surrendering himself for her sake. their sakes. Dakarai had always claimed that her would do everything in his power to keep her safe, to let his ingenue lover experience life at her leisure, all the while under his protection and watchful eye — and Olive had never wished to test that fact, but he had not failed her or and upheld the promise passed from husband to wife. She had never loved him more.

So enraptured with the scene was she, that the shrouded druid felt nothing, heard nothing, though nothing — and, of course, saw nothing of the wolf who lunged at her neck. The woman was pinned easily, as she provided very little resistance to the brutalization her body received. The mother-to-be was bulldozed to the ground and she folded underneath his fangs like a most macabre ragdoll; Miraak’s large jaws grated her face against the ground and his jaws felt powerful on her neck. Olive, utterly defeated and forlorn, gave up any and all fight she had in her body, feeling the entirety of her body triturate against the dank forest floor. Her sweet breath came in rapid, shallow puffs — it was all the air she was able to move underneath the pressure of his hold. 

Amongst the dirt and the tears and anguish that clouded her vision, Olive was forced to watch as the dark women move closer, and closer, and closer. The pallid dove’s breath was driven from her chest and she gasped for it, but her eau-de-nil gaze fell emptily upon the shewolf, brimming with utter and complete defeat. Olive knew there to be a divine, feminine connection was shared amongst all women — the stars had told her it was so — but as Olive felt the hot daggers rake down the side of her face and across her muzzle, the druid felt no connection to her female assailant. no divinity. no collective consciousness. Right then there was nothing but evil and Olive was scared of it. Olive could make no noise nor commit herself to a reaction— for the strength of the man’s jaws was great and breath continued to escape her. Please, she prayed desperately, Let it end.

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