Mountain of Dire hurry boy, she’s waiting here for you [s] - Printable Version +- Ruins of Wildwood (https://relic-lore.net) +-- Forum: Library (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=23) +--- Forum: Game Archives (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=26) +---- Forum: Incompleted Relic Lore (https://relic-lore.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=22) +---- Thread: Mountain of Dire hurry boy, she’s waiting here for you [s] (/showthread.php?tid=17620) |
hurry boy, she’s waiting here for you [s] - Kip - May 08, 2018 @Aleister - set in the same location as here: https://relic-lore.net/showthread.php?tid=17523 <3 Forward-dated to May 8th, sunset. ———— ’Your fur looks so beautiful in the sunset, angel,’ the disgusting men up on a faraway mountain had told her, before remarking that she was going to make some man a good little trophy one of these days. ’Fuck you,’ she had returned, biting at the ones who dared touch her. In all honesty, she’d been scared. She had spent time after that looking at the reds in her fur when the light from the sunset hit, and she absolutely hated it. So, she had rolled in mud. Gotten rid of those horrendous colors that made the males crow and call and lean in too close. Needless to say, no one had not approved. Kip - Mavis, as she had taken to calling herself in her mind recently - had no reason to be thinking about that now, save for the fact that the sinking sun was orange and was no doubt doing that terrible thing to her fur. It made her want to drown herself in a mud puddle. But something in her wanted to look pretty. Just for the moment. Just in case this was the day he would show up again. Kip had been checking this place when she got the chance - every other week, or so - and her efforts to find this guy had been in vain. Not that she would admit to looking for him in the first place. No sir. Part of her hated herself for this. For trying to find someone who probably hadn’t felt that same little spark she had, and most likely didn’t even think of her past that night they had met. Men were like that, she supposed. Some deeply ingrained misandry was trying to convince her that this just wasn’t worth her time. But that hate was born from her own insecurities. Insecurities that she didn’t really experience much anymore. She was just grasping at straws here, trying not to let herself be hurt by this. Protecting herself. ”Ah, fuck my life,” she whispered to herself, her voice an inaudible murmur compared to the wind. Maybe she should just go back to the Tarn. |