The days were passing her by and seemed infinite to her. It had become well rehearsed for Lily to consider the time frame from when day turned to night, the hours when light went to dark. Her nights often were left with her remaining alone in her room to work carefully at her sewing or to find herself tracing those cautious steps back to the depths of the wood.
So deep in the forest would she wander in search for those wolves of the Moon Mother and the alpha she swore once she had touched. A wolf not a wolf but still a beast to walk wearing the skin of man. The alpha of those steel wolves would be a warrior. She knew it easily within the dreams that this was how it was meant to be and how it would end.
Were these not the things that the Order feared? That the Beauty would discover the truth when she was left off the owner?s leash and sent to roam and wander of her own whim and desire. If Beauty had not known better she would have assumed it was kindness they offered her within the blooming ages of her twenties.
Looking back now, the Beauty had begun to understand it was not kindness but torment. Her freedom was near to setting a domesticated pet out into the wild, leaving a wounded doe off to a pack of starving beasts was much the same treatment of the blind Lily sent off to society.
More then anything she longed for the companionship. Even the torture by the hand of the Order had been something. The protective nature of them over the Beauty had been stifling but it was a companionship she was lacking since she had lived in Rhy?din. All save for Boerath. Strangely enough from day one he had been a constant source of calm and comfort for the Beauty.
She was uncertain if this had to be due to his care and protective guidance over her, or if it was due to him being her sole friend save for the wolves, or if perhaps it was because the scent of the wild and leathers he always possessed reminded her of one other she only knew within dreams.
The last time she had spoke with the Warrior he had wished to discuss things with her in private. Curiously she had followed him to the Hall yet there were no conversations to be spoken, there were no questions he would speak to her. His silence seemed to fill the room some times in the most painful ways, and then he was gone.
The fact he was gone so sudden just left her to wonder if perhaps all of this time he had existed as just another companion in her dreams to protect, calm, and soothe her in the hours she felt far more alone then ever.
She turned her face away from the moon as she left the window seat to prepare for bed. The simple dress worn spilled from skin as she moved to curl under the covers of the bed. Only in those moments as the moon glow touched her skin would the intricately inked designs tattooed upon her back was revealed.
There worked into her flesh was the painted tapestry of her own story she had long forgotten, only to dream of. A story forged by the feathers of the fallen, the path of the wolves that haunted her mind as much as her skin. The truth and revelation of those things forgotten or never told all painted there on her skin, just waiting to be deciphered.
So deep in the forest would she wander in search for those wolves of the Moon Mother and the alpha she swore once she had touched. A wolf not a wolf but still a beast to walk wearing the skin of man. The alpha of those steel wolves would be a warrior. She knew it easily within the dreams that this was how it was meant to be and how it would end.
Were these not the things that the Order feared? That the Beauty would discover the truth when she was left off the owner?s leash and sent to roam and wander of her own whim and desire. If Beauty had not known better she would have assumed it was kindness they offered her within the blooming ages of her twenties.
Looking back now, the Beauty had begun to understand it was not kindness but torment. Her freedom was near to setting a domesticated pet out into the wild, leaving a wounded doe off to a pack of starving beasts was much the same treatment of the blind Lily sent off to society.
More then anything she longed for the companionship. Even the torture by the hand of the Order had been something. The protective nature of them over the Beauty had been stifling but it was a companionship she was lacking since she had lived in Rhy?din. All save for Boerath. Strangely enough from day one he had been a constant source of calm and comfort for the Beauty.
She was uncertain if this had to be due to his care and protective guidance over her, or if it was due to him being her sole friend save for the wolves, or if perhaps it was because the scent of the wild and leathers he always possessed reminded her of one other she only knew within dreams.
The last time she had spoke with the Warrior he had wished to discuss things with her in private. Curiously she had followed him to the Hall yet there were no conversations to be spoken, there were no questions he would speak to her. His silence seemed to fill the room some times in the most painful ways, and then he was gone.
The fact he was gone so sudden just left her to wonder if perhaps all of this time he had existed as just another companion in her dreams to protect, calm, and soothe her in the hours she felt far more alone then ever.
She turned her face away from the moon as she left the window seat to prepare for bed. The simple dress worn spilled from skin as she moved to curl under the covers of the bed. Only in those moments as the moon glow touched her skin would the intricately inked designs tattooed upon her back was revealed.
There worked into her flesh was the painted tapestry of her own story she had long forgotten, only to dream of. A story forged by the feathers of the fallen, the path of the wolves that haunted her mind as much as her skin. The truth and revelation of those things forgotten or never told all painted there on her skin, just waiting to be deciphered.