Moonsong Glacier ulalume

who knows how long he stands there before she comes to again.

but eventually, she opens her eyes, vision blurry, bleary—and thinks she is seeing herself removed from her body. a russet pelt, a strong stance. . .healthy, whole — why has this vision come to taunt her so?

Avicus whines, the sound muffled against the ice. every movement of her tongue brings more blood, but the bleeding has slowed considerably. it's merely a trickle now, oozing from her tattered mouth.

she tries to rise to her paws and immediately sags back down, too weak, too hurting. 

she hates this. she hates feeling this way, vulnerable in the face of possible attack. her reflection could do anything, and she would be powerless to stop it—

her indigo eyes turn upward, staring at the ruddy figure, pleading silently for mercy.