Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2014 18:20:20 GMT -5
The emptiness will haunt you. It haunted her. It crept into her dreams and her wakefulness, twisting her reality into one cruel joke. Living in this place was a cruel joke. Regar was serving a sentence for a crime they didn't commit. But what crime was ambition? Why would one dare look down on a lust for conquest as a sin? Funny how, to Artemisia, these questions were conundrums. To the rest of Somerset, they were precepts that needed no question. They, Regar, were just different. Their minds were home to a unique understanding a wolf could only gain by spending their entire life among the ranks. Brainwashed to be a warrior, Regar only understood certain things.
They understood the emptiness. They understood the void which they thrive in. This speck of parched land, as it were, had supported their ranks for millennia. They had survival down to a perfect art. Every wolf was expected to learn. If you lagged behind you were dead. Either the desert claimed you or you fell by the bite of your own family. Regar were quick to kill; slow to talk. What interesting characters.
In the middle of the emptiness of it all was Artemisia, Regar matriarch. She had only been in power one year. It was a position she had to adjust to. The she-wolf had always strived to command respect, and she did command it to some extent, but never this amount. Everyone looked to her. Artemisia's only fear was int heir disobedience. She had no question she could lead. It was in her blood, had been in her blood, for as long as any wolf could remember. Her father, Caligula, demanded both respect and fear, one more then the other, however. She remembered every punishment he dealt to other in her lifetime. Vividly, she could recall the way blood trickled from his maw. It always got caught around the white of his muzzle. He was a spitting imagine of Jinn himself in times like that. Even she had feared him, well, until she killed him.
Heartless? Absolutely. Necessary? No. Self-Gratifying? Fuck Yes. That bat was old and feeble, if it hadn't been her the Peninsula would've claimed him. She was the only one of her siblings to realize this. You keep what you kill. She'd always hated him and he never loved her because she was a female and could never live up to his legacy. Well, that obviously was an underestimation.
Artemisia laughed to herself. Wasn't it fucking funny? She thought so. That was probably only because she was mad. They were all mad there in hell, you couldn't help but forgo your sanity. Life was a lot...brighter, for that reason, however. She cackled to herself, sun creeping down into the horizon as if scared away by this woman.
"Madness..." ,she muttered, "It's really a matter of perspective."
