[PRP] Something More (Ashborn x Extravagance)

[anemosagkelos]

It was strange to be alone. The fact that it was needed made little comfort as she walked through the swamp in search of . . . It would have helped to know what it was she was looking for, precisely, rather than the vague notion that there had to be a place for her somewhere. Peace to calm the aching rage that had simmered and erupted and now churned low in her belly, threatening resentment and hatred. She did not want to hate her mother or her siblings; she did not want to hate Lightning Strike or even the wolves themselves that had bonded to each kin. Right now, though, it was all the same betrayal bitter on her tongue and altering flashes of frostbite and heatstroke that, if unchecked, would lead to blood. Once, she would have been satisfied if it was his blood, spilled from his throat, because of her teeth. Now, it felt hollow and then she would be alone. They loved him; she could not replace him so easily.

She felt heavy in her steps and lost in this world. It was easy enough to hunt, to eat, but there was no where to rest. It pulsated with uncertainty, with loneliness, and even with the two wolves that were her companions--whether she wanted them to be or not--there was so much missing that she did not sleep. She stilled but she was always on edge, unnerved and ready to pounce. It was catching up to her now and though she had nourishment, exhaustion was a harder foe to slay.

Ashborn sighed, clenched her jaw to swallow the yawn that tremored against her lips. It was midday and she wasn't sure she could fight the need to sleep much longer even as she knew it would not be that easy. She might collapse but the instinct to be on alert, that she was vulnerable, would never let her eyes stay closed long enough. It was a morbid thought, but in this state, it amused her. That she would leave, only to become a walking corpse that died alone. They'd never know; she whined, soft, maybe they deserved happiness more than she.