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She knew what it meant to starve. She had been starving her entire life — food and otherwise. The only time she had not, was her time with Tove and Tamir and yet they were gone, and the sharp edges of her bones returned. Her drive that had started to come back had vanished, and she was alone again with the feeling of being watched, and Axel's ghost haunted her again.
He had been somewhat silent, during her time with Tove and Tamir. He had been there, definitely, but he had not plagued her like he had before. Now, he was back, the evidence of what she had done sticking out of his open nape, and Ravenna saw him even when her eyes were closed. Was it hunger that made her more delirious than usual? She couldn't be sure. She was sure, though, that soon she would meet their Maker. Her Master, the true Master, would snatch her back for failing to be what she had been to the Clan, for thinking she could be something else — something more, and it would be soon.
She did not hunt.
She barely scavenged.
She hungered. So brutally, yet it was numb in her belly now. Her ribs ridged her skin and fur, and she knew part of it was that she simply could not bring herself to do better. To be better — not when it had all gone. Her taste of freedom, of family... it was gone, a dull taste in her throat and she was parched for something she would never attain again. They were dead, she knew it, she had killed them, and if she saw them again she knew it would be when her life had fled her skin and bones.
Ravenna would be Judged all the same.
Her cries had dried up.
Her chin sat lifeless on the grass as she stared, blinking every so often as a bird cawed over head, and she couldn't bring herself to check if it were a Raven or not.
He had been somewhat silent, during her time with Tove and Tamir. He had been there, definitely, but he had not plagued her like he had before. Now, he was back, the evidence of what she had done sticking out of his open nape, and Ravenna saw him even when her eyes were closed. Was it hunger that made her more delirious than usual? She couldn't be sure. She was sure, though, that soon she would meet their Maker. Her Master, the true Master, would snatch her back for failing to be what she had been to the Clan, for thinking she could be something else — something more, and it would be soon.
She did not hunt.
She barely scavenged.
She hungered. So brutally, yet it was numb in her belly now. Her ribs ridged her skin and fur, and she knew part of it was that she simply could not bring herself to do better. To be better — not when it had all gone. Her taste of freedom, of family... it was gone, a dull taste in her throat and she was parched for something she would never attain again. They were dead, she knew it, she had killed them, and if she saw them again she knew it would be when her life had fled her skin and bones.
Ravenna would be Judged all the same.
Her cries had dried up.
Her chin sat lifeless on the grass as she stared, blinking every so often as a bird cawed over head, and she couldn't bring herself to check if it were a Raven or not.
She mourned.
She angered.
She hungered.
She angered.
She hungered.
She could not dream, not anymore.
Axel stared at her in the distance, having sat down to face her, and he tilted his head as he observed her. You are alive, he told her, and you waste it. Ravenna couldn't bring herself to agree nor disagree. She was a murderer, a sinner, an Omen — what good was her life anyway?
I was a waste from the beginning, she told him dully, and turned her chin on the grass to look away from his plague.
Axel stared at her in the distance, having sat down to face her, and he tilted his head as he observed her. You are alive, he told her, and you waste it. Ravenna couldn't bring herself to agree nor disagree. She was a murderer, a sinner, an Omen — what good was her life anyway?
I was a waste from the beginning, she told him dully, and turned her chin on the grass to look away from his plague.
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