it was a cruel joke.
to awake on a cold morning with mist and sea salt in the wind, to see the remnants of a light snow and yet she felt fire. a scent that curled into her nose with little doubt as to what was happening here. her time had come and, of course, she was plagued with thoughts.
thoughts of asmodeus.
he would have loved her, had she been this the last time they crossed.
her heart felt a wrench. a jagged spike in the center of it that inspired nothing but anger. he would not have this. she would not flee to the taiga and sing siren songs for him when he could not fit her heart. she would confine herself to the coast. just like she did now.
she sat on icy shores and stared out into the sea, tail tucked firm around her paws.
to awake on a cold morning with mist and sea salt in the wind, to see the remnants of a light snow and yet she felt fire. a scent that curled into her nose with little doubt as to what was happening here. her time had come and, of course, she was plagued with thoughts.
thoughts of asmodeus.
he would have loved her, had she been this the last time they crossed.
her heart felt a wrench. a jagged spike in the center of it that inspired nothing but anger. he would not have this. she would not flee to the taiga and sing siren songs for him when he could not fit her heart. she would confine herself to the coast. just like she did now.
she sat on icy shores and stared out into the sea, tail tucked firm around her paws.
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