09-22-2019, 04:55 PM
<center><div style="width:400px; padding:20px;font-family:times;font-size:12px;line-height:14px;background:#FFFFFF;color:#000000;text-align:justify;border:3px solid #B6385F;">She doesn’t fully understand the wildness that creeps in her veins.
She knows that Tephra feels small, even with that great, looming volcano that always glows on the horizon. She knows she had been born during turmoil and chaos, when the land was shrouded in darkness and the air was full of smoke and fire. She had felt adrenaline before she ever felt safety, she had known war before she ever knew peace.
Everything after that had seemed so...quiet. Tame, almost.
The strange tightness that coils in her chest is incomprehensible to her. Freshly turned two years old she was just beginning to finally shed the softness of her childhood, and with the sharp angles of adolescence also came with it a restlessness that was all the more potent.
She moves through the forest without much purpose, and the sounds of the birds and the leaves that rustle in the breeze are muted into background noise. When she first hears the chime, it almost seems imaginary. It takes her a moment to realize that it was <i>real</i>, and slowly, she comes to a stop. Her ears swivel, and she tilts her head as though it might better allow her to pinpoint where the sound is coming from. From the corner of her eye she sees a flicker of light, and she can feel her heart jump in excitement.
She follows it, trying her best to match the light’s flitting and erratic movements that wind her through trees and brush. Branches pull at her black mane as she leaps nimbly over fallen logs, but no matter how fast she moves the light continues to dart just out of her reach.
By the time she comes face to face with the nearly hidden doorway she is breathless and looking every bit the feral girl she was – leaves and debris clinging to her mane, various new scrapes fresh and bright on her black and white coat. But her vivid pink eyes are vibrant and glittering with the thrill of the chase, even though the light was nowhere to be found. Instead she was faced with the shadowy door, caressed in ivy that snakes and tangles around its frame.
She feels no hesitation when she steps through.</div></font></center>
She knows that Tephra feels small, even with that great, looming volcano that always glows on the horizon. She knows she had been born during turmoil and chaos, when the land was shrouded in darkness and the air was full of smoke and fire. She had felt adrenaline before she ever felt safety, she had known war before she ever knew peace.
Everything after that had seemed so...quiet. Tame, almost.
The strange tightness that coils in her chest is incomprehensible to her. Freshly turned two years old she was just beginning to finally shed the softness of her childhood, and with the sharp angles of adolescence also came with it a restlessness that was all the more potent.
She moves through the forest without much purpose, and the sounds of the birds and the leaves that rustle in the breeze are muted into background noise. When she first hears the chime, it almost seems imaginary. It takes her a moment to realize that it was <i>real</i>, and slowly, she comes to a stop. Her ears swivel, and she tilts her head as though it might better allow her to pinpoint where the sound is coming from. From the corner of her eye she sees a flicker of light, and she can feel her heart jump in excitement.
She follows it, trying her best to match the light’s flitting and erratic movements that wind her through trees and brush. Branches pull at her black mane as she leaps nimbly over fallen logs, but no matter how fast she moves the light continues to dart just out of her reach.
By the time she comes face to face with the nearly hidden doorway she is breathless and looking every bit the feral girl she was – leaves and debris clinging to her mane, various new scrapes fresh and bright on her black and white coat. But her vivid pink eyes are vibrant and glittering with the thrill of the chase, even though the light was nowhere to be found. Instead she was faced with the shadowy door, caressed in ivy that snakes and tangles around its frame.
She feels no hesitation when she steps through.</div></font></center>