- Messages
- 385
- Character Biography
- Link
The maw yawned. Shafts of golden light fell down the throat of what might, once, have been the portal to a mine adit. Motes of dust danced in the light filtering in, gold specks that danced against a black backdrop. Despite the angle, the light eventually found itself swallowed by darkness.
Mara regarded the lynx with no outward suspicion or alarm. The way it communicated with her made her curious, but as a rule she was not afraid of wild things. It was people that made her wary, made her ill at ease. It was humans and elves that had done awful things here, and continued to do awful things to her after that escape. The memory of the Nordenfiir that had aided in her escape was only a whisper in her mind, now; she wondered if he had managed to find his way home or not.
"All are d-dead, here," she replied in spoken voice. The tips of fangs poked from under her upper and lower lips, the strange way they came and went as disconcerting as many of the other traits baked into what she was, now. "I..."
She had killed them. The memories were buried be beneath layers of protective fog, deliberately hidden from her own mind. Regardless, she knew that she had killed them all. The screams of their dying haunting her sleep, whenever she could find time for such a thing. Their blood was on her hands, painted a part of the design that made her a monster. A thing to loathe.
"Mar...I just want to know," she said softly. "Want to know what.. what I am." There was something steely in her quiet and hesitant declaration.
Mara regarded the lynx with no outward suspicion or alarm. The way it communicated with her made her curious, but as a rule she was not afraid of wild things. It was people that made her wary, made her ill at ease. It was humans and elves that had done awful things here, and continued to do awful things to her after that escape. The memory of the Nordenfiir that had aided in her escape was only a whisper in her mind, now; she wondered if he had managed to find his way home or not.
"All are d-dead, here," she replied in spoken voice. The tips of fangs poked from under her upper and lower lips, the strange way they came and went as disconcerting as many of the other traits baked into what she was, now. "I..."
She had killed them. The memories were buried be beneath layers of protective fog, deliberately hidden from her own mind. Regardless, she knew that she had killed them all. The screams of their dying haunting her sleep, whenever she could find time for such a thing. Their blood was on her hands, painted a part of the design that made her a monster. A thing to loathe.
"Mar...I just want to know," she said softly. "Want to know what.. what I am." There was something steely in her quiet and hesitant declaration.