she never knew (p)
Feb 24, 2015 22:31:55 GMT -5
Post by spook on Feb 24, 2015 22:31:55 GMT -5
SHE WAS DEAD THE WHOLE TIME
AND SHE NEVER KNEW
AND SHE NEVER KNEW
Morrigan disliked the concept of inside. It evoked memories of her past, which was overall something she tended to ignore—she lived in the present, never dwelling on nostalgia, driven forward by the whispers she discerned in the wind. She stood absolutely rigid in a rare moment of recollection, her front paws just nudging across the threshold of a large moldering wooden building. With her orange-gold eyes narrowed to lethal slits, she peered into the gloamy darkness of the hall, remembering it all—the house she’d occupied with her brother, the kennels they’d slept in, the claustrophobic black of the cargo area she’d huddled in while being shipped overseas.
Her lip twitched upward and a snarl rippled through her, voicing her distaste for the close darkness that colored her memories of being inside. The instant she’d tasted freedom, she’d longed to spend it outside—and she had. Years and years of feeling the bite of jagged rock beneath her paws and she couldn’t imagine anything else but the lash of rain and the freezing edge of the wind. So she turned away from the building, wrinkling her nose in clear distaste before sneezing hard. She’d smelled another dog here, when she’d arrived on her circumspect journey down from her mountain home, but as of yet she’d not seen anyone else.
Just as well. She and Salome had company now, an odd concept for Morrigan but not one that she regarded with any exasperation. It would be beneficial for the girl to learn how to tend to injuries that weren’t her mother’s. And although Morrigan wasn’t exactly gregarious, neither was she a recluse. She enjoyed her solitude—she always had—but she wouldn’t spurn Shaw when the girl so clearly required their assistance. Of course, the fact that she didn’t desire their assistance mattered little, because Morrigan’s truculent curiosity drove her, not any kind of visceral need to help.
She walked a few paces before ducking her nose to the ground and sniffing. Pawing a divot into the earth, she considered the revealed loam before licking it—her recent wounds had exhausted their supply of salt, and with her proclivity for ripping new gashes into herself, agents for stopping bleeding were always required. But she couldn’t dismiss her feelings of someone else nearby, and although she wouldn’t scorn company, the unseen other made it impossible for her to concentrate.
ooc. jake