Merida
Wondering where you've been all my life, I just started living
She wonders if she’ll be able to face him.
The darkness of the forest shrouds her, pressing in comfortingly at all sides. The moon is full and low, silver and bright as it filters through the dense canopy, playing patterns on the fiery scarlet of her coat. She is merely wandering purposelessly, every now and then stopping her quiet walk to dig silently into soft earth, where her teeth grab at whatever she can find, swallowing mealworms and dark, glittering insects. The forest reminds her of Sylva in a way, but not so much that she can truly revisit those dusty (yet oh so fond) memories.
It reminds her of him, but she does well not to let her mind linger long on the idea of the pale wolf that twists around her heart so tightly, she could almost feel barb-like stings in her lithe chest if she thought about him for too long.
Merida has been alone before; she tells herself it is how she prefers it, that she blossoms beneath solitude. It’s a lie she chants to herself to keep her crimson eyes tear-free and to keep her heart from breaking. She was better alone.
They’re better without you.
Damp black nostrils lift into the night air, sniffing intently. She cannot help but follow the old scent of other shifters, finding that many of the smells are not familiar to her. She shrugs. With a twitch of her white-tipped tail, she gracefully leaps over bramble and great roots of trees, a flash of red within the midnight darkness.
Soon she finds herself tired, her long snout lowering to the ground as she walked. She finds a place to settle, nestling into the crook of two large roots of a large tree trunk, curling her paws beneath her while her tail settles lightly on the tip of her snout. Sleep finds her easily.
Beneath the damp roots and great shade of the oldest tree in the forest, the vixen’s eyes twitch in her sleep while soft and mournful whimpers leave her, their sound muffled by closed lips.
@[Crevan]
