[The Royal Bastians of Arbonne | Info & Adoptables]

Oh, how time was a thief!

Had it really not been that long ago that she was surrounded with familiarity? Koga, Arzhel, Avon?

More importantly – how long exactly had she been alone, in her solitude?

The more Imogen thought about it, she realized the time spanned for far longer than she had assumed. What felt like a month or two, had actually been several. The nights she spent shivering in the cold night had been many. Her body showed the score: she was lean and waifish, as she had been mostly subsisting on carrion. Her mind, too: she was starved for conversation, as well as food.

But for the most part, Imogen was (for all intents and purposes), fine. Besides basic survival, she had barely any stress. She slept often, and appreciated to cool, crisp air that enervated her. Imogen was bothered by no one, had no responsibilities, and felt largely capable of managing her own safety – even if her only tactic was to flee.

But, fast she was indeed! She spent most of her days running and cavorting in the very snows that vexed her, and engaging in awe and splendor at the grandiose landscapes that yawned out before her. A great vista always grabbed la contessa, as one had her within its grasp at that very moment. She the trees, so barren and stark and blackened against the pale lightness of the landscape. It was like a painting from a gallery, only better,

Because this was real.

skill: [none]