”The Watching”
Lydia looked on, lamenting that these wolves she was being made to witness and worry for were simply so stupid. It wasn’t.. She shook her head slowly, watching the wolves run and flee while that monster ran behind them. Truthfully, she’d have liked to hear its side of things too. Why were these two being chased? Why was the world angry, and why were she and the rest of Mythris’ inhabitants forced into this situation?
What had happened before the wolves got here?
Lydia hated men, that was known. As did the other sisters of the Scarlet Circle. And so, it was hard for her to care or worry for the screaming man when all she could think about was how often he may have left another in such a position.
Yet. Lydia was an optimistic woman in her time alive. Maybe he was one of those scarce good ones, and had been a victim his whole life to another man instead. Her sea-water gaze flickered to the fading figures on their way out, hardly shuddering at the sounds of the stranger being rendered apart by vengeful spirits. Her qualms lay with the one who had abandoned him in such a time of peril. Her sisters wouldn’t do a thing like that.
Her dream was coming to a close and she could feel herself stirring in the waking world, but this dream had been illuminating. The Sea had brought them here for a reason, then. She knew it was silly to doubt Bly for a moment.
”The Wailing”
The ghost man was ahead of her, and she swore she was alone. But, though the beach where she lay felt devoid of life and silent, the presence of her coven was eternal. I imagine even you must bring plenty of shame compared to another Hound’s name.
How he could stand here and grovel and plead with the world was astonishing to her. Had he no remorse for what he had done? And would he abandon the rest of the wolves once his mess had been washed away by them all?
No, She thought, ears drooping some as she rounded to get a proper look at his face. There are things I am certain of and things I am not, but of your intention I do not know.
He began to speak, and she physically cringed at his crying. It was very unbecoming. Snow clumped and piled along her back and her head, trying to bury her in place while the Dream Visitor rambled on and on. The mauled man was trapped beneath a moving island, used as a sacrifice. Just something to take the edge off of the danger everyone was in, at the expense of himself.
Shaking her head, she muttered, You are cruel.
He thought that the Wraiths would give chase to him instead, but what predator could pass up injured quarry? They would lick their chops and sink their teeth into whatever they could. How foolish and arrogant of man. I am not like you.
Stepping close to him, lifting a sand and snow-covered paw to brush against his tears she could not see, Lydia broke free of her curt embrace to then turn toward the doors constructed behind her.
Listening coolly while the world around her panicked, she sent a parting smile to the Visitor before she stepped up to look at the doors herself. Eyes narrow, she almost went for the third.
But then, a familiarity brushed against her fur, whispering and humming toward the direction of the first. A sister had gone in. And she would not leave her alone.
Emerging on the other side, her paws were met with what almost felt like sand, but could only have been more piling snow. Covey..
Whispering as not to disturb her important work, Lydia stepped up beside her, eyes glowing. In that instant, she saw how many other wolves surrounded them. Singing, Cussing, yelling out toward the sky, calling forth the sun.
And she took quite a deep breath.
And Lydia howled, dainty as ever.
She howled for the sun, to save the world. This was larger than herself– It may have been larger than the Continent. Surely, another continent might also suffer if the sun was locked in place? So her voice pleaded with the ethereal body, and pleaded with the world around her.
Bring back the light, won’t you?
