The Answer is Blowing in the Wind || [All Welcome]

[Wrathmange]

[glow=#212330,4,1000]If I had a heart I could love you...[/glow]

It rose like a tide, the wail, swelling in her chest as her mind reeled and her paws ached. Do not look back she told herself through panicked thoughts, it will do you no good. Your path is set, now. Do not look back. So the beast ran on. In her mouth she held firmly the last piece of her childhood; she did not want to lose it, for it had yet another part to play before this was all over. It swayed and bobbed within her grasp, dripping as she salivated hungrily in pursuit of nothing in particular. Not to say she wasn't going anywhere, she just could not see where her new path took her these days. Everything before had been so easily predicted - the order of life and the balance of everything taken for granted. But now, the explosion of chaos which consumed all known semblance of structure to Wrathmange's life grew smaller and more distant as she scrambled over unknown terrain toward a future she could not comprehend. Still, she had that one, last, memento of her past... As bitter as it tasted just to think such a thought. She stopped. A tree stood before her, its trunk massive and pleasantly twisted and its leaves fluttering gently as a small breeze flowed across the land. Of the various trees speckled around the immediate vicinity, this one was immediately most special, if for reasons known only to the she-wolf herself. Gingerly, she placed her memento on the soft grassy ground and sat panting in the shade.

After a few good moments to catch her breath, she finally released the wail which had threatened to burst forth before. The weight of her situation came crashing down upon her. Could wolves shed tears, Wrathmange's would surely fall freely, now.

---

[glow=white,2,100]"idle chatter"[/glow] | Tag | OOC

[glow=#212330,4,1000]More, give me more, give me more.[/glow]

[Zjarr]

x

[div style="margin-bottom: 4px; height: auto; font-family: baskerville; font-size: 26px; letter-spacing: 3px; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; color: black;"]OH LORD, DON'T LET ME
BE MISUNDERSTOOD

ACTIONS | "SPEAKING" | THINKING | TELEPATHY

It was true that he would likely reflect on his past quite often if he perhaps had a more distinct memory of it all: his childhood, being summoned to the mortal realm, and everything that led him up to his time on the Island. He knew there were lives in many other places that he had lived once, long and enduring lives filled with the same struggles he had felt now, but their fine details were lost to the wind and the passage of time itself. That wasn't to say that he did not falter in the presence of his mistakes made in this world — though he fared much better now, in the comforting village of Tanglewood with his children, it was difficult to keep those cruel nights of self-loathing and anxiety at bay, pairing self-pity he felt he had no right to bear with a fine glass of whiskey that burned his throat and soul.

Nonetheless, even if there was some mystical portal between worlds that he had somehow walked through many times over, there was nothing of the sort that gave him that kind of access to his own past. He had to keep moving forward.

And move forward Zjarr did, trekking across the seemingly endless expanse of the Neutral Grounds as he slipped down from the rocky crevice that housed his very own Forge. He prepared himself for his venture back home to Tanglewood when an abrupt noise stopped him in his tracks. The husky stiffened at the sound of a shrieking wail nearby, his muscles tightening as he immediately began to scan his surroundings. What the fuck... Was it someone in need? Or some freak banshee type of thing? Unfortunately for him, the sheer curiosity stirring within him prompted him to keep moving forward, hesitant pawsteps guiding him to the shade of a tall, firm tree where a quite disturbed-looking wolf sat.

Anxious paws touched the brim of his olive military cap, his primary source of comfort and perhaps his oldest belonging, stemming from God-knows-where and lasting him until this very moment with his constant care. He couldn't call himself a particularly reassuring person. Certainly not in the presence of hysteria, either. But damn it, he could at the very least try. And when all else fails, there was drink left. "Ah, miss?" the demon called to the other canine, careful to keep a decent-sized distance between him and her so not as to risk a potential attack. He watched her and awaited a hopefully nonviolent response before he proceeded. "'m sorry, but is everythin' alright here? Well, not that it seems like it, 'siderin' you're hollerin' 'n' such, but...any way I can help?" Real smooth.

bio — attack in [b]#f24b00[/b]

#psy.

[Wrathmange]

[glow=#212330,4,1000]If I had a heart I could love you...[/glow]

Grief washed over her as she howled until her howls softened to small whimpers. By this time, an unfamiliar face had shown up. Hazarding a glance over, her dark, hollow gaze scanned briefly over the large, fluffy form of a male dog. Or... At least it looked like a dog. Still, whatever he was did not bother Mange, nor did his presence to begin with. She welcomed it, even in her low state; he was friendly enough, thus far, perhaps that's what she needed.

[glow=white,2,100]"H-hello..."[/glow] she began, but her throat was still constricted and her mouth parched so her voice hitched for a moment. [glow=white,2,100]"I-- uh. I... Do not know. No, no it's--"[/glow] Wrathmange sighed and shifted, idly scooting the memento closer by her paws as she considered her words. Though she usually wasn't someone to wallow in their misery, her mind was still stuck. How much was acceptable to explain to strangers? The Great Feast may be tasted by all, so long as they be willing to provide to it. No one comes willingly until they are informed... Even now, Mange's thoughts defaulted back to her teachings. The One watches all with their six-eyed gaze, even when paths branch off or shift away from the preordained. [glow=white,2,100]"I am just... Having a bad day. You know how it is. We follow our paths with confidence and enthusiasm, but sometimes those paths fall out from under us."[/glow] A sigh. After peering at the newcomer for a few seconds longer, she diverted her gaze to the memento at her feet and gave a long, pained whine. Just looking at it made her hurt, it was the kind of pain that even a masochist wouldn't desire to endure any more than necessary. The vigil would help, once the necessary items were gathered. Yes.

Now she had a goal, if only short-term. This tree would be her starting point, the symbol of her strength to proceed into the unknown future. This is where the last ceremony of her old life would commence, and with the coming of the new dawn, that time would forever be gone - but never forgotten. Mange smiled faintly to herself, wondering. Having a plan always made her feel good, or at least a little better, and she allowed herself to wonder what her future would hold in store for her. Here was another beast, a creature similar to herself in form and in blood. He was her welcoming committee. Would more show up? Perhaps. But this being would be forever rooted in history as the first to be met on her new adventure through life. How exhilarating!

---

[glow=white,2,100]"idle chatter"[/glow] | Tags | So it begins

[glow=#212330,4,1000]More, give me more, give me more.[/glow]