[ P ] Bittersweet Symphony

Is ait an mac an saol -
Life is strange.

The darkness of the twilight did little to hide the she-wolf’s graceful white form as she moved through the mysterious woods. Even in the absence of a moon so late in the night, her pale coat did her no favors as she crept quietly through the blackness of the forest.

One month had passed since the protests in the Mainlands, and Blythe was not the same. She had not returned to her home, or to her lone remaining child. Finch didn’t need her anymore, anyway, and she was a liability now. Physically, the false king’s soldiers had left her disfigured, a wound still healing on her cheek left by the teeth of a nameless brute. Stll, she did not regret her role in the violence. The protest had been grotesque, but beautiful. Bittersweet. It was justice, destroyed by the powerful. Triumph, tinged with defeat. Life, shadowed by death.

Blythe was unconscious for a long while after her strength gave out and the soldiers ultimately took her down. It had not been without a fight on Blythe’s part. But she had not allowed them to keep her. King Adamh did not own her, and he had no right to take her life… Even if he had left her face scarred and her life in upheaval.

Now, no place in Rionnach could be safe from the harsh glare of Adamh’s law. Instead, the wolfess now lurked near the outskirts of society, existing just beyond notice. She had been traveling alone for weeks – not even her son had found her yet. And it was just as well. Blythe’s presence was risky to everyone she knew and cared for, though that number was small.

These were troubling times, indeed. The sound of movement nearby stopped Blythe in her tracks, a diminutive paw still left hanging in the air as the fur along her nape began to rise… just in case. There was no room for error, and she could trust no one.


@Callan