For Lavender! Snapshot and Ouch!

lav3nderwolf:

Ouch – A regret

((i dont think any new people will know what im talking about right now, as this was a lONG time ago))

It was something that used to keep her up at night. She’d sit in the quiet, pressing, sometimes suffocating darkness for a while, staring at nothing, listening to the quiet snores of her wolf companions, sorting the thoughts and feelings in her mind, always, always coming back to that one memory that never really went away. It was better now, for she used to be able to see the image if she closed her eyes, but it had still taken up permanent residence in the very back of her mind, draining her as time went on and she still hadn’t addressed it. She probably never will.

It was such a stupid thing to do.

Why did she do it?

She still hasn’t forgiven herself, not even now.

This was when she would roll onto her side and see the bedside stand. It held her bangles, her ring, her earrings, everything she didn’t sleep with. 

And a knife, gold and shimmering and given to her by someone as soulless as they looked, with her haunting absent eyes. A knife that used to be red with the blood of the one person who trusted her since she had left her home universe. It was Lavender’s fault, really, but it still didn’t seem like anything other than a dream– no, nightmare, to her.

It was such a stupid thing to do.

Snapshot – What they’re currently doing

The wind roared through the ragged, windswept area. Stubborn, purple plants grew indignantly, leaning away from the wind and rippling like the sea as the gusts shook them to their roots. But they’d been living on these hills for who-knows-how-long, and they had adapted.

The woman standing on the side of one of these hills was not so ready to confront the wind, and was shaking as it seemed to go right through everything she wore (which, in honesty, wasn’t much to begin with).

But she was determined to reach the top of this hill, and moved forward with a new-found determination. ‘If the stupid plants can survive this, so can I.’ She climbed through the tangling leaves and stems and emerged at the peak. A huge, dominant stone wall barred her way, and she shifted the backpack slung over her shoulder in what was a mixture of relief and anxiety.

The craggy mountains were visible in the distance, across the river, and the castle on top of that helped make the area even more looming and intimidating. She smelled fish cooking, and the faint trace of magic energy that was more of a tingling in her nose than a real smell, and knew at last that she was home.

She just hoped she’d be welcomed again, or if these inhabitants had, too, adapted.