A thousand silhouettes

Oops! Didn't mean for it to sound like she was quite dead...she must look it though.

Through slitted eyes, she watched the fae mutter and say indistinct words. Her breaths were quite shallow, and she wished that she wouldn't die here. No, she couldn't. Not after all she had survived! Her mind was in turmoil, and she flat out refused to die. Silver had to let this fae know that somewhere, somehow there was still a breath of life in her.

She struggled, flailing to the top of the dark pool that was her mind. She put all her strength into it, all her willpower. She moaned softly, before slipping into stillness again. However her breaths were a little stronger, though not be much.

The world was distorted, wave and pale. Voices came to her, and wearily she followed them. Two black wolves with pelts of midnight stared out at her, their eyes twin pools of harsh yellow. She tried to cry out, to run, but there was nowhere to go. She couldn't move.

And then the were on her, the first inflicting wounds, the other with only a gentle touch causing unimaginable pain. Both voices taunted her, playing with her, only when she felt the most pain did they slip back into the hell they came from...