01-31-2020, 06:38 PM
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She failed. Vale couldn’t find Clarence anywhere, no more than she could find the magic’s origin or any other fabled legend.
The black leopard, a shapeshifter from another world, hated herself for this failure. Her paws, caked with dirt and muck, took her back to Elysium at the slowest possible pace. Many times, over the past few months, she wanted to return home – only to turn back at the last possible moment. Because nothing waited for her here; the world moved on since then.
Her friends would be gone, she knew that. Clarence would still be lost, somewhere. And she would be her same old combative self looking for anything to throw a punch at. Most of Vale’s problems couldn’t be punched, yet she kept looking for anything to sink her claws into.
With a sigh, she shook out her fur as she dipped into the sandy beach. The ocean breeze stung on the bare spots of pink scar tissue on her shoulder, but the salt smell made it worth it. Seagulls screamed, hurriedly rushing away from her with their clawed feet striking indents in the sand, but she did not rush as she parted their swarm.
Sand squelched, getting between her toes. The occasional piece of shell sliced against her pawpads, cutting them open in feeling if not in truth. No blood marked her path, but she thought the shells damn well deserved to draw blood with how much they pricked at her.
Then the salt waves lurched over her paws, and she changed direction. She heard of how the Ascendants became the Elysium after merging with Sunhaven, but she hadn’t heard much since. By then, she’d been a long way a way into the wildlands where nobody had a last name. She thought she wanted that kind of existence, away from the politics and the memories of England and the memories of Clarence working an oven with his clumsy feline paws.
But she was wrong.
That’s why she returned, even empty handed.
The black leopard, a shapeshifter from another world, hated herself for this failure. Her paws, caked with dirt and muck, took her back to Elysium at the slowest possible pace. Many times, over the past few months, she wanted to return home – only to turn back at the last possible moment. Because nothing waited for her here; the world moved on since then.
Her friends would be gone, she knew that. Clarence would still be lost, somewhere. And she would be her same old combative self looking for anything to throw a punch at. Most of Vale’s problems couldn’t be punched, yet she kept looking for anything to sink her claws into.
With a sigh, she shook out her fur as she dipped into the sandy beach. The ocean breeze stung on the bare spots of pink scar tissue on her shoulder, but the salt smell made it worth it. Seagulls screamed, hurriedly rushing away from her with their clawed feet striking indents in the sand, but she did not rush as she parted their swarm.
Sand squelched, getting between her toes. The occasional piece of shell sliced against her pawpads, cutting them open in feeling if not in truth. No blood marked her path, but she thought the shells damn well deserved to draw blood with how much they pricked at her.
Then the salt waves lurched over her paws, and she changed direction. She heard of how the Ascendants became the Elysium after merging with Sunhaven, but she hadn’t heard much since. By then, she’d been a long way a way into the wildlands where nobody had a last name. She thought she wanted that kind of existence, away from the politics and the memories of England and the memories of Clarence working an oven with his clumsy feline paws.
But she was wrong.
That’s why she returned, even empty handed.
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METAMORPHOSIS
all that is left is the change !
Descendants of the Departed ★ Inquisitor of Requiem's Creation
![[Image: 325cc33efd667d2f2f236106f1e2c7a3.gif]](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/32/5c/c3/325cc33efd667d2f2f236106f1e2c7a3.gif)