|
|
|
Sample one.
When he'd told her to eat, she'd lost her temper. She'd turned to grab the bowl of food, and in one fluid movement launched it towards the door. She food splattered, and bowl shattered, just as he disappeared and she could hear the bolted lock turn. It was the first on the list of many things she destroyed in that room that night. When the change occurred, she was a snarling growling mess. For the first time in years the change hurt her. Maybe it was the rage the wolf felt, or the new surroundings, far from the emotional comfort of the forest. She couldn't be sure. All she did know was that every time a bone broke, and the reformed itself, she felt like she would die from the pain. She didn't perish... and eventually Lyra was gone, replaced by a slightly larger then usual, but otherwise normal looking wolf.
She wanted so badly to howl, all night, to keep him awake... to try and punish him for having brought her here. She didn't sing, not once. She didn't let herself. Instead she directed her rage at practically everything else. She scratched at the walls until she was sure her paws were going to bleed. She ran at the great metal door, praying she could make some sort of dent, but only succeeded in bruising and battering herself. The stuffing was pulled from the mattress, and strew about the room, covered in her own blood. The wolf was hurting her... because there was no one else to hurt. Even her solitary boot did not escape the wolf's wrath... but it was the last thing she got a hold of... so it was only slightly chewed up in the end.
Lyra slept in her den wrapped up in blankets and mattress stuffing. She didn't so much as move when the human servant came and quickly dropped off food and water to her. She'd only drunk the water from the night before... the food had been something she ended up refusing to lick off the wall where she'd thrown it. She did wake up... a little bit when Darius came to visit her however. She shifted a bit, looking down at herself. She didn't really know where the two bits of leather she used as clothing had ended up, but at least she had the blanket to cover her. She had bruises all over, as though she had been beaten, and the nails on her hands were cracked and caked in dried blood.
"Go away..." She growled, the sound of his voice only causing her head to pound. Last night had been the worst in all the nights she'd spent as a wolf, and she was paying for it today.
Sample 2
Sasha held on to the mail with both hands, while the barbarian lord struggled. She'd never been present for the extraction of information from prisoners, and she already felt her stomach turning. Everything in her screamed that what was to come was wrong, she couldn't say anything though. How could she? As a soldier, she followed the orders of her betters. What was funniest about that was by blood she was the highest in rank among them. If they were all at home, she'd been able to order them about like ordinary butlers, and footmen. Here though, she was no longer at the top of this odd little chain of command.
Eventually Ivar tired himself out, just as his leather jerkin finally fell away. It was about time. Her arms were getting tired from the strain. Even hungry, thirsty, and injured, the prisoner was terribly strong. She pulled his arms and head free of the armored covering, letting her comrades put the mans wrists firmly back into the shackles. At last the brute of a man was restrained again.
Something about his next statement struck her, though it didn't seem to bother the others all that much. Even the captain sneered. Sasha hadn't thought of this. The moral implications of war. Who would be looked kindly upon in the end, by what ever deity lay on the other side. Would she one day be punished for having cut her curls and taken up arms along side her brothers? It was foolish to think that both sides could pray to the heavens and both expect to be looked upon favorably. She resumed the stance she'd been in before, her arms crossed over her chest, as that grim look returned to her face. War was turning uglier by the minute with this final victory, and she'd seen what she'd thought to be the ugliest things humanity had to offer since she left home.
"Our God will look well upon us for having fought valiantly in his name." The captain said, plucking a hot pointed iron rod from the fit pit in the middle of the room. "Now on to business. Is there anything you'd like to share Ivar? Perhaps where the women and children have run off to, and just how carefully protected they are?" This rebellion as it was looked on by the English needed to be squelched in its entirety. They could not afford many more battles as bloody as this one. It was best to get it all done now while this rag tag group was down to hopefully a few small weakened groups.
The women... and the children. Sasha could have sworn her heart stopped. This was to much. This was not a part of the plan. Going after the innocents was not why they came here.
Sample 3
Shya let out a sigh as she closed her eyes for a moment. She was tired, more tired then she had probably ever been before. Being hand maiden to a Princess was no picnic on its own... but having to attend to her Royal Highness while on the road was a royal pain. They'd been traveling for days, touring the country. Today they were on their way to meet a group of elemental students. For what purpose? Shya hadn't the foggiest idea. Maybe to simply grace the youngsters with the presence of nobility? To pat the instructors on the back for a job well done? She rubbed her temples a moment before opening her eyes again.
They'd been riding by horse back all morning, and her legs were growing sore. She loved to ride, and the pale blonde mare she'd been given was given for this journey was easy enough to handle. Still... being in the saddle for so many hours at a time, was just plain annoying. "How much longer till we get there?" She groaned looking to the young guard that rode beside her. He smiled and shook his head. "Getting a little antsy Shya? It shouldn't be much longer."
Well that certainly was a relief. She ran a hand through her dark curls, thinking back on all that had occurred that morning. The maiden had woken up early to feed herself a simple meal, and to dress as elegantly as a Princes. She usually preferred more comfortable clothes. Trousers, and loose fitting shirts... maybe a weapon or two for display. After all... hand maidens were also the last line of defense for the Princess, should things ever go terribly wrong. For this tour though, the royal family had insisted that those who had a title should dress according to their station, and so her wardrobe had changed immensely.
Shya wore a long blue gown, that almost made it impossible to ride her horse like a man... almost. Despite appearances, she rode how she had always ridden. With one leg on either side of the saddle. Her pale skin was littered with lightly colored designs. Markings of the royal family she had sworn her allegiance to. Her long dark curls had been gathered up into loose braid that was laced with flowers keeping the locks out of her deep blue eyes. She was dressed just like the other two young women that rode behind the Princess, who was dressed even more lavishly then they.
"I just hope this meeting wont take very long James. I am absolutely starving." She said looking back to the guard once more. He only smiled again before responding. "You're always hungry... that isn't news."
 theshyfox · Tue Aug 07, 2012 @ 09:16pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
