AW
Just as a couple other women may have done within the keep that morning, the empress' day began with a lurch of her stomach and the escape of her meal. Fog seemed determined to whisk around the trees and blanket the world in a thick layer of grey haze, unmovable despite the coming of spring - life would begin to bloom amongst the remnants of snow soon enough, and Gwen was caught somewhere between relief and sheer panic.
She didn't want to disappoint; what if she birthed stillborns?
It would have been no fault of their own, the poor children, but she couldn't bear the thought of witnessing their lifeless bodies at her paws, the distraught expression on Raziel's face if she failed to rear living young. Just as quickly as the arrow had shuddered through her skull, she forced it away, and focused on burying the last of her puke before padding off with a shiver into the mist. As much as she adored the beauty of winter, the cloak of mystery before her was not entirely desired - hunting was her specialty, and despite her talent the fog could make it difficult to locate prey. If she couldn't hunt, couldn't fight, couldn't help in any sense of the word, what could she really do aside from sit and murmur to herself?
"Quit moping, like you always do." she chided herself quietly, feeling the distant buzz of darkness as it sucked at the void of her mind; her mental state frequently wavered, but she would not speak of this. Not even to her husband - she didn't want him to think her any less capable at the moment than she already was, and besides, she was used to the weight of silence. It was something she had taught herself, to just cope with what she was. What she had.
So she took the rest of the early hours to simply wade through the mist and consume herself with her mind.
She didn't want to disappoint; what if she birthed stillborns?
It would have been no fault of their own, the poor children, but she couldn't bear the thought of witnessing their lifeless bodies at her paws, the distraught expression on Raziel's face if she failed to rear living young. Just as quickly as the arrow had shuddered through her skull, she forced it away, and focused on burying the last of her puke before padding off with a shiver into the mist. As much as she adored the beauty of winter, the cloak of mystery before her was not entirely desired - hunting was her specialty, and despite her talent the fog could make it difficult to locate prey. If she couldn't hunt, couldn't fight, couldn't help in any sense of the word, what could she really do aside from sit and murmur to herself?
"Quit moping, like you always do." she chided herself quietly, feeling the distant buzz of darkness as it sucked at the void of her mind; her mental state frequently wavered, but she would not speak of this. Not even to her husband - she didn't want him to think her any less capable at the moment than she already was, and besides, she was used to the weight of silence. It was something she had taught herself, to just cope with what she was. What she had.
So she took the rest of the early hours to simply wade through the mist and consume herself with her mind.
![[Image: 8rXo9x9.gif]](http://i.imgur.com/8rXo9x9.gif)
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Messages In This Thread
i'll put you on the map - by Gwen - March 10, 2019, 03:27 PM
RE: i'll put you on the map - by Darkmoon - April 26, 2019, 07:09 AM