28 March 2012
(Alright, since I love wolves so dearly, I HAD to make an Opuss fiction about them. Hope you enjoy it.)
Darkness. Thunder. Stinging, icy, and repeating needles. Bright flashes of light. That's all she can see and feel as she blindly leads her pack. She doesn't know where she's going...her senses are numb. Lygeia thought she was lost, the way her other pack mates whined and grunted in anxious ways. They didn't trust her hope. They didn't trust her knowledge. And they certainly didn't trust her memories, her visions, or her dreams. Whatever the case was, she still needed them out of the storm. She growled, cursing herself for not thinking this through. Warren had told her of the coming storm, which would destroy their first home of Dark Hollow. He told Lygeia that he must protect the pack, by herself. But how could a widowed she-wolf do such a thing by herself?
It had been eight months since Lygeia's mate, Dreyl, had been murdered so maliciously. Lygeia still had the memory fresh in her head; of Dreyl's disembodied corpse as it lay upon the ground, his insides losing color as well as losing their place within him. Lygeia never recovered, and for that, she never had another mate. Fortunately enough, Lygeia had already birthed two pups; Clove and Parzival. The two were strong and well built, and were doing fine on their own. The only problem was that they trusted in their mother far too greatly. And as most of the wolves knew, Lygeia was going insane. Insane. The term barely made any sense in Lygeia's head. Insane? Mad? How can you think me mad? These questions were the ones she often asked the wolves who openly embraced her mental sickness. She would sometimes spasm or change into a totally different wolf... One that thirsted for the blood of innocents.
Lygeia continued to lead, Clove right behind her. The young wolf looked to his mother and asked, "Where are we going, Mum?" Lygeia's eye twitched, like one of the tics that only irritation could bring about. She tried not to snap. As of late, questions directed at her would bring about these tics. If enough questions were asked, she'd snap. She'd snap, and someone would have blood spilled. Lygeia took a deep breath before replying, "We are leaving Dark Hollow, Clove. This storm is going to destroy it."
(Part two if this is good enough...)
She Runs In Rain. • Opuss № I