Look out, precious.
My ears pin, lacing tightly against my crown. Precious. There was positively nothing precious about me. I failed at most things, throwing myself from the falls' pinnacle had proven wayward and still as I crashed in the foamy waves beneath, I came out still breathing, still alive. And that, that is what pained me so. He would not allow me to live, to live how I would love to live. To run free with the wind entangling my knotted tresses, to feel the earth moist against my skin. No, Crow took everything from me, even the feeling of the small slithers of happiness I sought. I turn my eye to the left, but the feathers of a faraway crow ruffle, his caw snaps me from my reflective state and Crow pulls me inside, and like his obedient vessel, I yield. Turning my head to see the shimmer of translucence. He is like a cloud, drifting along the browning backdrop. I watch him, faded eyes swallowing him. He looked as dangerous as the poisonous spiders that hide beneath logs, as deadly as the bite of a threatened snake.
Wolves don't need the opinions of sheep.
I grunt, my ears lost within the piles of cream mane. I tilt my head, each hoof shuffling along the taler grasses, skittering stones into the river as I go -- even the simply splash spooks me, every nerve wrought and on edge it sends me flying forward, nearly careering into the pallid beast. The closer I get to him, the more his fiery eyes engulf me, and I'm reminded too much of the beast's eyes within.
Oh no my dear, there are none quite like me. However, however this one, he looks promising.
'As promising as death's cold embrace.' I murmur, having longed for death's icy touch for too long, it has almost become comfortable. The shards of ice penetrating my core, what was left of my frail slithers of essence. His predatory glare finds me, and I'm lost there, as Crow had said, like a sheep, and I'm padding closer and closer to the slaughter. Jaded eyes watch him, lidded slightly, clumps of tattered lashes moistening my cheeks as I closed them momentarily, feeling my heart quiver like some dying bird inside of me. Crow does not relent, he's pulling my strings inside, pushing me and pulling me all ways. I've beens stitched up wrongly, all the threads in the wrong places and now my stuffing was leaking all over the floor. Broken and left, scar-ridden and emaciated, all I can do is wait for death's cold embrace. Perhaps, perhaps he has found me first. 'Wolves. Aoki has seen them. Tear, Shred, Rip, Kill. But they do not touch her, even though she longs for it.' My words are as haunting as the wind whistling through the trees on a moonless night, as eerie and cold as the shiver that snakes up your spine. Hoarse and near choking my whisper comes out as jagged as my coat. 'Aoki cannot die. Crow will not allow it.' inside I'm pleading, whispering, longing to reach out and touch the pallid beast with my course scratched nose, and I do, reaching out to touch him, pleading, wanting. And then the darkness shrouds me, envelopes me with tight and tighter ropes, slowly choking me from the inside out.
Now, now. You can't get rid of me that easily.
it's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within,
A O K I;It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin.
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