can't go on without you [acceptance/trespass]
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jocelyn She/Her
little lolita
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Location [IC]: Hiraeth
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#1
(This post was last modified: November 17, 2018, 10:14:17 PM by jocelyn.)

|♥| hiraeth |♥|
little lolita; false hiraethi

ooc approved w/ angus to have her trespass.

slight trigger warning.

Echoes of his screams were like hymns in her ears, something akin to an angelic choir singing. As she fled Leigo, the pack found his corpse; cries of agony had drowned away her music. In her heart all the agony in the world writhed and wrung itself, why did her family cry for him but not for her? WHY HADN’T THEY MISSED THEIR BABY GIRL? A thousand times over since she started running those thoughts had taken their grip, her fangs bared, she cried. Lather, rinse, repeat. Mace deserved to die, he deserved it, if nothing else in the world seemed certain right now, Jocelyn still knew the boy had to die. He’d been unfaithful, unappreciative, cruel even-- all that she could have forgiven really-- but he’d taken her family from her. Momma, Daddy, lavish living, adoration, meaning, home… Unmistakably unforgivable. Her eyes stared at the blurring landscape ahead of her with steely precision.

That dark demon was slowly slipping back down into its hiding hole in her soul, his cruel slithering and sharp claws drew away from her brain. The shadows crept away and tears formed in the edges of her bright pink eyes. Where was she going? What was she going to do with herself? Could she fend for herself? Why hadn’t her family wanted her? Why hadn’t they defended her? Why was Leigo so far away? How long had she been running? Jocelyn’s lungs burned but her long willowy legs refused to cease their forward motion. Her demon had disoriented her, she didn’t know which way she’d ran but fear propelled her forward. More and more. Further and further.

The boy’s blood was caked on her now, dry and crackling, occasionally breaking away from fur. The young mix breed realized she was cold, she was wet? Ears pinned back and pink eyes squeezed tight, finally forcing her paws to a screeching halt. Mud packed between her toes and grass got snuggled up against the soft fur. The pink monster breathed raggedly for a moment, eyes searching in vain past the dried, bloody curls of her typically beautiful locks of hair. Jocelyn didn’t even remember running through water but as she looked down it dripped off of her steady still, like miniature waterfalls. Perhaps the water had washed her demon away? He’d quit whispering to her, the singing of Mace’s cries had slipped into obscurity. More tears fell from her face, mixing with the blood to turn nearly pink in their hue as they splattered the ground. The small woman wished the demon would come back, she felt stronger when he was there.

Not that there really was any sort of demon, Jocelyn had no true notion of heavens or angels. All she knew is she found strength in her anger; she was less vulnerable then. But a child was a child, raised delicately with ideas packed into her head, emotions were rampant and as weak as she felt in the moment, she was too distraught to fight them off. Honestly, she didn’t know how. She’d always had Momma or Daddy to help her, to protect her and tell her how to be. So instead the girl trembled, wet on her chest and stomach, red blood smeared and dried across her face and tangled in her curls, tears pouring to the ground. Jocelyn was scared. Jocelyn was alone. Jocelyn had nothing. She was just about to collapse on the spot when a figure in the distance caught her eyes and she moved her now shaky legs to inspect it. It looked like a wolf but she realized as she drew closer it was a statue of some sort. Canine, grown over plant life, the young woman stared weakly up at it.

Jocelyn sighed, she suddenly felt heavy and decided to let her legs give in here. Here seemed as good a place as any to wither away into nothingness anyway. Small, wet eyes blinked softly until the mixed woman drifted into a sleep, curled up at the base of the statue. The hours ticked away and when the cold night came, a sound roused the frightened girl. Fearful eyes peered out into the darkness, small furry body instinctively backed up against the statue, head low, breathing out uneven puffs of warm mist in the night air.


"H-h-h-e-llo?"

Is that you Momma? Daddy? Leigo?

Have you come to kill me?

[-] Likes: DustyForgotten, Orlaith
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Orlaith she/her
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#2
(This post was last modified: December 28, 2018, 03:32:47 PM by Orlaith.)







Orlaith felt All Mother speaking through her more often than not in the past few months. Voices of her ancestors, the ones who have joined her God and those preparing to, filled her ears with ominous warnings and terrified whispers. Dark times would be upon Hiraeth. With outsiders living among them, there was constant talk of how old traditions would be cast aside and a new age for the Hiraethis would begin once the cold season past. Orlaith had known for a long time that this would come, shortly before the Queen became ill. It was only a matter of time before the signs would show themselves to the rest of the pack. But, now that her former ruler's soul had merged with the trees and moss, she was hesitant to express these concerns to Valen. She had no doubts that she would be a fine leader, so long as she remained vigilant and committed to protecting Hiraeth. Yet, she wasn't so sure how in tune she would be with All Mother's many voices. Nonetheless, Orlaith needed to give it time before she was certain of Her plans.

She thought it would be possible to hear Her the clearest if she ventured to one of the many idols that stood in the heart of Hiraeth. These monuments were ones that held great spiritual and reverent importance, and Orlaith found herself visiting them frequently as of late. Tonight, she would pray. Pray for the safety of Hiraeth. Pray for fortune and success in Hiraeth's current Queen. Pray that when the time comes, she can do and say the right thing. Pray for courage and devotion. She hoped so desperately that this was meant to be, and that All Mother was not abandoning Her children to the chaos of the world. The thoughts of such a reality whirled inside her mind as she approached Her statue. They would truly be lost without Her guidance. Let that never be.

Her solemn gaze raised as She came into view, a glorious sight to see for those who believed and even stranger one for the outsiders who had yet to learn of Her presence in these sacred lands. It was important to remember that it wasn't just here that She reside; it was everywhere. In the grass, in the earth, in the wind, the very hearts and bones of Hiraethi. All Mother was inside them all. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, listening carefully. But what sounded in her ears was not All Mother's call to prayer. No, this was another's voice. Orlaith twisted her head about, spring green eyes meeting a bright rose stare that peeked around the corner of the stone All Mother. Her brows raised as she took note of the dirt and light smears of blood that streaked her coat. Certainly not what she was expecting to find at the All Mother's most holy alter. Although her back ached from the heavy weight of moss growth, she raised her tail and scuffed the ground with her front paw. She was no guard or defender, but she would protect this shrine with her last breath if she must.

"Be still, child. You walk on Hiraeth's lands. If you show any aggression, I will howl for the Warriors and Sentries to detain you. What brings you here?"


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