Posts by asterin

Asterin would send daggers flying his way if she had to, verbal daggers as he stood there. Apologizing. She couldn't believe it—his lack of aggression was not what she was looking for. No. She was looking for someone to fight with, to fight her fire with fire. Instead, Wildyonder was calm. Collected. Ice shot in her veins, and she whipped her head around to spot crystals formulating in his eyes. He was crying. He was crying, and damn it— she was crying too.

The silver wolf watched, her words taken away as if he had stolen the breath from her lungs. It wasn't his fault, a voice in her head chimed, but she ignored it with sickening ease. It was, it was his fault. Did he even know why she had left that entire time? Bile rose in her throat, and she suddenly felt very, very sick. "No. No! I'm not okay," the wound in her chest was surprisingly not the root of her pain, but rather her heart. It ached. It ached and she wanted to cry oceans of tears. He said she was strong. No. She wasn't strong. She was hurting and she wore a mask. "I-I'm not brave. I couldn't even protect myself."

He didn't know. He didn't know. Sooner or later, she would be gone and part of her regretted it. He didn't know. He didn't know why she was gone. She sold her soul for him, or was about to. She had hunted down a demon willing to offer him the gift of sight. She didn't know when he would arrive. She didn't know how long she had. She didn't know. She didn't know. She hated not knowing.

She would be lying to him if she said that she'd stay alive for much longer. No. Sooner or later, he'd wake up being able to see the world and she wouldn't be able to experience it with him. A shame, but the promise of him being able to dream in color was too sweet. Like caramel. He would be able to see the sunset. And that, that calmed her.

"No. No. I can't, I can't— you don't understand." She shook her head, taking a step closer to him. God, he really cared for her. He really did. She would miss him. He was her, her friend. Her friend. She had a friend and she was going to destroy whatever friendship they had. It was okay. It would be okay because it was for him. It was all for him.

"I'll be okay. Trust me on that, okay? I'll be okay. I promise. I promise." She was looking him in the face now, suddenly thankful he couldn't see. She kept her sniffles to a minimum, not eager to let him know she was crying too.

And when he had the ability to know— she would be gone. It was okay. It would be okay.

No. No. He wasn't nothing. He was books in the middle of winter, waiting to be read next to the warmth of a fireplace. He was the sound of rain in the middle of a storm, somehow comforting in the midst of a screaming storm. He was classical music in a music house, acoustics filling the air causing the mind to ease at the serenity of the sounds. He was lavender fields with the slightest of a breeze, a setting sun situated in the background. He was the sound of the ocean on a calm afternoon. That wasn't nothing. Asterin, Asterin damn it— she was the goddamn fire. She was the storm. She was the blaring drums and the trumpets awaiting the reckoning of music. She was the dying lavender, lacking the sweet scent and beautiful color. She was the roaring waves in the background, demanding that the day become bitter again. Sour. If she was the rocking boat, then he was her anchor. And would always be, even.. even after she disappeared. She hoped that when she became a shell of what she was before, he would fill her up. If she'd even be able to feel a thing at all.

Truth be told, the minute she was cleared to leave the medicine cat's den.. she would hunt her attackers down and kill them. She would situate them in front of a fire and burn them to the ground. And then, she'd burn their corpses with the remnants of the alcohol they stole. She would not let them get away. But again, she didn't know. She didn't know how long she had until the demon came to collect what now belonged to him. Suddenly, she felt hot and uncomfortable and trapped. She would never again get to taste the rain. A tear fell from her eye, not for Wild, but for herself. She would be nothing.

She looked at him again, at his soft features and the hues of his pelt. No. No. She couldn't lie to him, not like this. She couldn't lie to him without saying goodbye. But then again— if she told him, he'd shut it down immediately. He'd find the demon she bargained with and he'd demand to let the deal go. And so she couldn't tell him. "You're making a mistake, Wildyonder."

She quickly swallowed, shaking her head slightly as she took another step forwards. "But life is about making mistakes." Her eyes were hot, likely puffy as well as an effect from crying. Goodbye. She was going to say goodbye. Leaning a bit closer, Asterin shut her eyes and blocked out all noise. She attempted to plant a delicate kiss on his lips, gentle despite all of her internal fury. It likely tasted of honey, something for her unusually sore throat, and bittersweet from the marigold she had been taking.

That was goodbye.

Asterin didn't, would never have powers. She wouldn't. She knew it wasn't a choice whether one had them or not, she knew it was unlikely. It would have to be. She could fight with daggers— she was good with them. She was good with knives. And it would stay that way, whether fate liked it or not.

She didn't particularly like the meadow, no, she didn't like the heat and the thorns and the scent of flowers. She preferred the rainforest, the sweet scent of rain and the oddly comforting humidity. It was wild, untamed, forever growing just as she was. Maybe that was why she liked it. She didn't particularly know.

She didn't expect to find Imperia — meditating, perhaps? — and Wildyonder slamming into nothing. Asterin arched a metaphorical brow, approaching the two of them with quiet stealth. She narrowed her eyes slightly at the girl, before turning to Wild and hiding all concerned worries. Her face remained a mask of nonchalance. "What are you doing?" Her voice was not as flat as she wanted it to be, and worry seeped through despite her best efforts.

As he let go, she could feel apart of herself go too. No. No. She wanted to scream out. She wanted to tell him to come back, to be there for her, to love her and adventure the world with her. To grow old with her. To be happy but she knew that the daydream that she had imagined would never come. Never be real. And now, now he would adventure the world. He would get to see. He would get to love the rainforest just as she had. He would get to experience it all at once. And maybe, maybe he would fall in love. He would be in love with someone he could see, someone more beautiful and more wild than she. Someone who could teach him the secrets of the universe and dream with him and adventure with him. And his world wouldn't be an everlasting darkness, he would no longer live in night. He would live in color just as she had—but she knew her living was done.

She opened her eyes just as his lips had left her own, to find him scamper away with a slight joy in his step. She, she couldn't help it. Warm tears formed in her icy eyes, seeping down and onto the soft mud that surrounded her. She knew that it was for the better, what she was doing was for the better. It really, truly was. He would be able to see again. And she was selfish, so selfish she couldn't even bring herself to smile. It would be okay. it would be okay. She promised him, she promised him it would be okay. It would be okay.

"I love you, Wildyonder." She whispered softly, padding away from where she stood and towards the warmth of the fur coat that she slept on. It was so soft, and it was her parent's. For some reason, it always brought good dreams. She had had many good dreams on it— and now, this would be her last. And part of her— part of her was okay with that. He got to live.

And he said she was brave. She was going to be brave for him. She would climb mountains for him, burn the world to ashes for him, hell, die for him. But was it bad for her to be a little scared?

No. She wasn't just scared. She was terrified. She was terrified of the demon she had made a deal with. The greedy, malicious glint in his eyes and the fake smile that he wore like crimson lipstick. He made her quake with fear, and she didn't feel like a storm whenever she thought of him. No. She was simply the rubble beneath his paws. And now— now he would lock her away forever. Forever.

She didn't know how long had passed. Hours, minutes, seconds, but a darkness filled the room that was indescribable. Powerful, a lethal shadow over her head that told her that he had arrived. She was so scared. So fucking scared of it— of-of him. And now, she knew it wouldn't be a daydream. Her end. Her soul being ripped from her body. It would be a nightmare.

He was a creature made from shadow, the darkness that she had felt before nothing compared to the jet black hue of his fur. The panther's eyes glinted with pure evil, dark in color and dark in feeling. She shuddered a little bit, but did all she could to keep it hidden. He couldn't know. He couldn't know she was afraid.

And then he looked her straight in the eyes.

And every terror, everything she was afraid of filled her. She wasn't happy. She didn't know what happiness was. She couldn't remember him. She couldn't remember Wild. The one she claimed she loved. But she fought, she fought to hold on, and clung to her soul as if she was dangling off of a cliff's edge. "You and I both know that's just a taste of what's to come, darling." His voice was so sickening, so so sickening. It was cold, colder than the hundreds of winters she had experienced. Colder than her eyes. Colder than her. It was like stone.

"Now tell me, are you afraid?" Gods. Yes. Yes. Yes, she was afraid. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to run but she couldn't move. She couldn't move. She couldn't move.

"No. I am not." She stared him—death— right in the eyes. Right in the fucking eyes. She was not afraid. She would not be afraid.

Before she knew it, he was standing right there. Right in front of her. Her heart was running a thousand miles a minute, away, away from him."Liar." He hissed, and she shook. She shook beneath him, and before she knew it, a claw was to her throat. As she was pushed against the wall, she felt the warmth of the blood trickling down her roughened skin. "Are you ready?" No. She would never be ready. Never. Never.

"Yes."

And then she felt it. It was as if she was being stabbed a thousand times, a thousand lifetimes of being stabbed. Right in her heart. Right in her gut. Right in her lungs. And then, and then she felt the knives twist and turn and she wanted to throw up. It felt as if her life was being taken, and then returned and then taken again. As if she was dying, over and over again. It was as if she was drowning, no oxygen in her lungs. Her head was pounding, it was as if it was exploding. Agony. She was in agony.

And then she felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

She was gone. And where her soul, her heart was supposed to be, there was only ice. As if the hundreds of winters she had experienced had finally frozen her heart as well.