The one kid should have never jumped out the boat [Pack Meeting]

Zafina · May 31, 2019, 07:56 AM

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

A slight of hand with glove to hip could not have been more subtle in comparison to the Witch as she moved freely from the void of the Hollow to the graven mystery of this meeting. She had always had stealth, but it had never been so pronounced until now. Until it had been yanked dirtily out of her, replacing her proud and bold mind with something ragged, deceptive-
terrible. The Mother was unhappy, unhappy she was no longer a mother and had been punished my Time and Karma long enough. Thusly, she had stolen someone else to ease her woe. It was a thrill she was doomed to lust after, one that stuck angrily to her heart and soul as painful recompense that she could be wounded so lowly in this pathetic plane of existence. That she could not only be a mortal, but could live as one, and die as one, as well.

Steep was her appearance, her mystical swirl and swish of ebony, auburn and acute mahogany markings a testimony to her difference amongst these mortals- none other than she had appeared so different from these inbred fools. A scan over the view of things denied her even that however, as some woman was painted in bright contrast to the rest, flickering her albasters at anyone too close to her. She seemed wily, crafty, and very much untrustworthy with her dual tone of rusted scarlet cape and pale cream base. Zafina kept her sneer to herself.

The words from a woman whom she hadn't yet met poured forth with precise measure. Zafina felt nothing in the first half of this spill, yet the second called for her blood to slow and her focus to heighten. It was she who took the Child. And while she did not fear any reprocussion, as her death was with her spawn's, she did wonder what would become of her. "I." Her single syllable rose from the dirt as slow mist, draping over the assembly as the Hollow's fog has. And within the garnets of her gaze, she waited patiently for whatever other scandal this woman would thrust on her. Even in process, her stare split from the meeting, tracing the outlines of Nyx's own children. A hum came to mind, and with each taste of childish movement, the desire grew to take them, too.

But every sky will build my throne.