Hideaway Strath i think i might be scared

Backdated to the 10th.

She stumbled aimlessly through their new home.

Some time may have passed since she first discovered the truth of her family's death, but even so it weighed heavily on her heart as if it had just been yesterday. No amount of time would heal this wolf. Not now.

First it was the small things. FInding out about the feud between The Saints and Ursus, considering the possibility of a war breaking out and that being her "welcome to the pack" present. Then Kynareth constantly insisting on spars. At the time Leigh just assumed he enjoyed showing off, enjoyed the thrill of the fight. But now with a fresh set of eyes, the she-wolf had gained a better understanding, or at least a better theory to why he was so insistent. He just wanted violence. He just wanted to prepare for violence.

Those small things had been like little warning shots. Enough to make her wonder if potential danger was around the corner, but she had no indication of the threat being real.

Aya's death had been the bullet to her heart. Sudden, shocking, no warning. Leigh thought she was being called to a meeting, perhaps to discuss how they'd settle into their new territory. Instead it was an execution, a murder. That bullet piercing her chest, shattering any possibility that there may have been good in these wolves, finally convinced her that the threat was indeed true and dangerous.

But even with a gunshot to the heart, one can still run a short while before finally collapsing. The woman recovered to some extent after the incident, but it eventually caught up to her and she found herself tumbling. Kynareth and Sasha just happened to be the two wolves who found her. She was dying, on her last breath.

And then the realization that it had been Kynareth's former pack who was responsible for the death of her family. Her child.

That was the final shot. By then Leigh was already dead but Kyn and Sasha insisted on firing one last bullet into her skull just to make sure she was gone for good.

Now, the woman wandered with no direction or destination in mind. She barely knew the map, she wasn't aware of where borders ended and began, and yet she kept tripping over herself, pushing to go onwards. For now she'd just walk straight. It was the easiest thing to do for a dead woman.

And then the tears finally came. Leigh had held herself together when confronting Sasha. But now that she was alone, at least she hoped she was, there was no reason to hide what her pack called weakness. It was an ugly cry. Not a sweet little 'give me a hug and kiss' bullshit excuse for tears. It was real sorrow.

That's it. That's it! I'm done! I'm fucking done!

Oh, poor little Kynareth fucking Deagon. Betrayed by his wife and forced to watch his pack die. So sad. My heart. It can't take it, so tragic! But uh... hm, what did you say? God dammit I can't remember. Something... like... 'shit happens, just gotta move on'? Did I get it right?

What if I just... broke my paw, just like that poor girl's? Maybe I could get Nyra to smash it between a couple of rocks. There are rocks nearby, aren't there? Or or! Or, I could stir up shit with the other packs. But, ya know, shit happens! Shit fucking happens! Just gotta move on! I could ruin your whole life but you just gotta move on Kynareth!

Does this make me a bad person.... saying this? I don't care. Who cares!? Clearly The Saints don't. Fuck pathetic me, am I right!?

It rumbled in her throat. Her sobs oh so gracefully transitioning into a strained and deep laughter. Leigh didn't mean to laugh. But there wasn't much else to do, having her emotions all fucked up and whatnot.

Leigh was like a scale. She wasn't perfect, she would always be a little unbalanced. But for the most part she was alright. A good wolf. A kind wolf.

The type of wolf who could so easily aspire to greatness or descend into madness.

Perhaps it was cliche. The good girl gone bad over a little crush. It wasn't even a crush. What she had with Kynareth was just a simple case of the projection of one's feelings for another on the closest person nearby. But even so, cliches come from somewhere. They have to be based in some sort of reality, right?

The she-wolf's cackling erupted, her jaws parting as she fell into a laughing fit.

Fuck everyone. Fuck the trees and fuck the water. I won't lose my mind because of you Kynareth, or your little girlfriend! I'll lose my mind because I choose to! Take that you little good for nothing sorry excuse for a wolf piece of shit!

With a sigh the woman managed to control herself. The surrounding air becoming once again quiet, Leigh swung her head around in each direction. As if she were a child looking both ways before crossing a road but never told when to stop and finally cross the damn thing.

She didn't know what she was looking for. A distraction, maybe?

She spun in circles, slim legs getting tangled in each other as the dizziness set in.

Then finally Leigh stopped. Coming to a halt, she swiftly dipped her head downwards to the dirt ground, hunched over and still.

And she dug.

One paw at a time she scraped away at the earth as dust flew back behind her into a large mess of a pile.

"Isn't this great!? Life has been one hell of a ride, hasn't it? Such fun times. Maybe it'll be a nice bedtime story for the kids."

There was no knowing why exactly Leigh chose to dig a hole.

Perhaps it was either a grave for herself or Kynareth.