It had been a year, a full fucking year since she’d wandered into the east whispering pines. Been a year since she discovered there was more to her life than the flow of jobs and the blood staining her paws. She still found herself wondering what would’ve become of her if she abandoned the lifestyle she created to return to the simple life of a traveling mercenary. Would it have been better to never know what she gained here, to never experience the wild ride of lovers and children and the responsibility of dozens of lives on her shoulders. Would it better to never be loved as an individual? Would it be better for those who were so prominent in her life to have never met her when all she attracted was bloodshed and pain.
She didn’t know, and would never know. She had survived this far here and made something entirely opposite of the dog she could’ve been. Was still kicking it rather than laying in some ditch with her muscles and skin disintegrating into atrophy as she withered away; replaced by mercenaries who were younger in their prime. Selfishly she finds herself happy to not be dead, she had a reason to live now even at the cost of the suffering of those she claimed to love and protect. They’d have been better without her.
she’d been moping in the infirmary languishing in her thoughts for longer than she cared to admit to. Thinking of her age (how she never thought she’d get this far) and every event that brought her to this point. The stress of it made her “sick” and she’d taken her time away from her clans to recover from the illness born into her veins. Only accompanied by the whispers of the pines and the occasional sound of paws of Veilers (or ruiners) prodding into the infirmary to check on her.
today would be the day she’d bother to feed her own maw instead of relying on the labor of others. She had things to do, would recover as quick as she could from this clinging depression she’d enveloped herself in. She would fight to continue the longevity of her family and friends would crack the same hearty smirks and bark the same casual banter. Sitting on her ass did none of them any favors.
The shepherd breeched herself from her den fur groomed instead of matted and tattered like it had been as she mourned and split herself off. A easy lazed look encompassing her features as she comes to sit in the most bustling place of the stony Ruins. ”I hate to ruin your fun Veilers but I haven’t kicked the bucket yet” she woofs as she sits comfortably on her hindquarters tail curling around her paws and wings no longer wrapped in gauze and finally healed from her now months ago torture held somewhat outwards as if to catch attention.
”I’m Ver Million if anyone forgot or well doesn’t know me... that’s entirely possible” she’d not been the most present leader this far, she had been failing them for a while now but that’d be fixed. She wouldn’t mope for long, wouldn’t fuck up another good thing. Charlotte trusted her, Abbi trusted her, Mercy trusted her and she’d be damned if she would continue to drag her ass and ruin everything they worked for.
”speech” ♛ tags