Vëalíre,
Lioness of Prideless
Played by pine

i
n another life, vëalíre lightwood would not have blundered, so blindly, across the rolling expanse of an unknown land. In another life, vëalíre would not have fled, headfirst, into such cavernous darkness, where the shadows loomed, silent and waiting. In another life, vëalíre would have moved with an awareness — a purpose that guided her step, silent and sure, upon the mossy bed of her woodland home.

However, the life vëalíre had lived was no more — gone with the crumbling of earth from beneath her paws ; gone with the plummet of souls into foaming, sanguine waves.

And so, when the voice danced forth ( muted in its reverberation amongst the stalagmites and stalactites), vëalíre merely blinked. the beat of her heart drummed in muted time with the dull heave of ivory chest, and in its time, vëalíre turned her gaze in a slow arch. h i d i n g ?, the voice had asked—its question registering with numb delay ; “no,” she whispered, settling her own detached gaze upon the orange glow of her companion, “running.”

»«


n o t e , sorry for the wait, werge! ( @Anatole )
code to pine