Lost Lake the death rattle

I think I spend too much time thinking about titles. ANYWAY.let's get this party started?edited for elettra<3. and for clarity's sake: she has broken ribs, a broken right foreleg, a pretty bad head wound above her eye, a concussion, and her right shoulder has been dislocated

Something kept bringing her back up here, up this jumble of rocks that had been piled up into the clouds. Up, up, up, she just could not shake the feeling that there was something up there, waiting for her. Maybe it was the answer to all the questions she had, or maybe it was more than that... Maybe it wasn't an answer at all, but a candle, something for her to hold on to as the darkness claimed her broken mind but had left her spirit here to wander the with the ghosts of her past. A younger Ozera would never have dared to go up this mountain. A younger Ozera would have known that she had never, would never belong on this mountain that had shrugged her off its stony shoulder, that did not care if she lived or died. A younger Ozera would have known that nothing good was waiting up there in clouds.

But this broken vessel was thoughtless, careless, and utterly witlessness. With only three legs that would bear her weight, the going was frustratingly slow — yet, in true Ozera fashion, she pushed on. The wind ripped through her thinning, patchy brown coat that was little more than a threadbare rug draped about her shoulders. To pass the time, she sang nonsense words to herself. After a time, though, the boredom came all the same, sneaking into the back of her brain and inciting a restless itch in her feet that caused her to push herself even harder.

And that was when the ground disappeared from her feet.

So concerned with her own entertainment, without any regard for where she was putting her paws, the old soul had walked straight off of a cliff. For an instant, some small recollection shone in her eyes, and she thought she could recall this fall before, but it the light was extinguished as the breath was ripped from her and she smashed against a rocky outcrop that had reached out to catch her. She landed on her right side. The fall could not have been more than five or six feet, but it stole what little strength she had left in her. When she tried to move, there was a familiar stab in her sides, and when she moved it felt like their were shards of glass in her ribcage. Through the blood that oozed from a nasty looking head wound, she could see that her right leg didn't look right, but it was difficult to understand why through all the pain. When she tried to move it, nothing happened. That wasn't right. The feeling was still there, no doubt about that... but she couldn't seem to move it at all... And that was when the panic started to set in. The crone managed only to drag herself to a lake shore without the help of her right leg before she collapsed again, her body screaming and her mind addled by concussion. The world slid in and out of focus, like a dancing smear of light and color, and it made her feel too nauseous to reach out and drink from the water only two inches from her nose.

(This post was last modified: Mar 15, 2013, 08:35 PM by Datura.)

With the woman's song of nothingness, came the rhythmical dance of Elettra Archer. She was no expressively tall woman, with delicate curves and long limbs fitting with flowing, radiant furs. But this day, she danced as though she could be one of them. A though she could be one of the delicate, flawless treasures which her family had called 'pure'. As a child, she had once pretended, but there was no hiding it, from the very color of her fur, the girl was bad- the girl was dark. The very thought brought something of a sinister smile over her lips, a coy expression to dance over the silvery-grey of her gaze. There was no hiding the true predator of which she was- wild and savage, unrelenting, unshakable, and unbreakable.
Soon however, as her mind took her away, reality would set in by the silence of the other mystery wolf, leaving only the howls of the wind in her wake. Elettra stumbles (quite literally) into what she remembers she truly is, and for a moment after being broken from her reverie, all is still. Elettra would not hear the crash of the woman, not the scraping sounds as her body slid to the water's edge. But she would find her, none the less, as Elettra took to view this part of the land she had never once seen before. The vast pool was clear and still, protected within this sanctuary of mountainside. The scene was flawless, savor the thin, matted, broken and bloody woman which smeared her imperfection upon it.
Though Elettra is sure the other woman held no ability to do her any harm, she still approaches wit caution, her movements slow and steady as she comes to Ozera's side. With a sniff, she can tell she is older, tell that even before these recent wounds, she had been in fairly poor condition. Though as a healer, even the medic in her knew that even with her vast knowledge, the likeliness of her living still was much impossible. Addressing her thinness, fatigue and possible dehydration was one thing, but mending many broken bones, nursing head trauma and giving therapy to mangled limbs was another. So beaten up, it left Elettra only to one question: "What happened to you?"

(This post was last modified: Nov 04, 2023, 08:36 PM by Clouse.)

(Since idk when Sarah is returning, if ever, and if she would bring back this character, I'm just going to post what I had saved for her next response and assume that Elettra did what Sarah and I planned- mercy killing Ozera.)

”I can end this pain.” Her breath coos, as the closest thing to 'motherly' which she could muster. ”I can make it all go away...” Nothing in her words shown an ounce of histrionics but only true, heart-felt meaning for the fallen woman. Elettra Archer could be good.She did this not out of hatred, sadism or any other malice attempts, no. Elettra did this out of kindness, a mercy for the woman to end her suffering swiftly and effectively where many others might not have the courage to be able. To let her lie here in horrid anguish until the final end of her being, where pain would be the last thing she remembered on this plane of existence, was something Elettra Archer could not allow. ”May you flourish in divinity or may you suffer in Inferno.” She prays by the final words of her lineage, though the woman had never been far religious herself. And with it, her jaws part to move around the throat of the older woman, clenched down with quick and efficient might, and swallowing her last moments of life whole.

(This post was last modified: Nov 04, 2023, 08:36 PM by Clouse.)