darling, you're wild-eyed, empty, and tongue-tied
maybe you need me or maybe you don't
It is difficult to focus only on this situation when her mind is splintered in so many pieces.
There are parts of her that have never left Loess, that have never stopped wondering and worrying about where her son has gone. There are parts of her that are curled next to Castile, that are breathing in the spice of him, in the comfort that only his brimstone and flames can bring. She has to drag herself back into the here and now, has to reminder herself that she needs to be present—needs to be sharp.
He licks his lips and she pulls hers back, the growl deepening in her chest.
“I will eat your heart, mutt,” she finally spits out as he intrudes into her space and she feels every hair stand on edge, the rest of it all beginning to fade away as she zeroes in on this moment. He is large and there is something otherworldly about him—something more like Castile and less like her.
Still, she does not plan on going down without a fight.
She curls around herself to keep him in her line of vision as much as she can, her tail flicking behind her, ears barely twitching as she studies all of him. “I will watch Castile burn down your forest and I will be there to rip your throat out.” He takes a step back and her usually languid face is suddenly alive with fury, the lines of it harsh, her feline eyes electric. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
Sochi can still feel the wounds that threaten to open up across her chest and down her back.
She can feel the fear for her son beating below the surface.
She grows reckless and, in that second, she loses. She lunges for him, jaws snapping, and the soft ground gives out under her paws. She rolls and loses sight of him in the process, landing as her equine self.
She heaves herself up, shaking the dirt from her eyes, trying to find where he had gone.
playing the slow rooms, howling at half moons
if you are a Queen then, honey, I am a wolf