exhale.

[`masquerade]

SO WITH SIN I CONDEMN YOU
never again
WILL YOU SEE THIS IN YOUR LIFE
you could've been all i wanted
but you weren't honest
if you really loved me
you would've endured my world

FLASHBACK

Words were not enough to expression her despair at the sight of Tsunade so close to male strangers. Dwelling on the fact that one was of another species and could hold no lust toward the young female was beyond her mental capacity. Her mind seemed to explode from the aggression that fueled her actions, that pushed her shoulder against Tsunade's thin chest in an attempt to put some distance between the pup and the monster that pursued her. Instincts kicked into overdrive when the female protested against the movement, freezing when confusion took hold.

She could see Fake It was tense, awaiting some response to a question Deimos Eros did not catch. She took the obvious tension in the air as something more, and her growl kicked up another notch. Louder than before, it echoed eerily in the silence that spanned beyond the three. Prey animals had skittered away, instincts enough to take them away from the advancing wolf, even before her temper was struck.

Deimos Eros witnessed the chocolatey brown of Fake's eyes shift to an even darker shade, the depthless pits of his pupils constricting in on themselves as a gloss veiled his vision. He was deep in thought, if not imagining something. Or going through a memory. Of course, she could not know what he was thinking, but it took him a while to remember where he was, what immediate danger he was in. And his gaze was clouded by confusion, then recognition.

But surely this wretch did not know her? Deimos had never seen this horrid beast in her life, and she had lived to tell many stories. She narrowed her eyes, gray liquid simmering a bit as she met the gaze of this Wolfhound. No, she met the gaze of Fake. And he uttered a word, in a whisper, as if it had somehow tied the two together in a swirl of bliss and joy that no one would forget. This mutt was mistaken.

"Mera." The word on his lips was not a question, did not hold the light, confused tone that filled his eyes with distress. And she watched as his glazed eyes took on a look of pure admiration, or the love that he felt for someone else, someone who was a fool to leave him behind with such a pain it looked as though it would kill him.

Deimos Eros' hackles fell, aggression fled from her body and her growl ceased. She felt a pity for this tortured beast. He had loved whoever Mera was, and she was lucky she had had him. He should not love her anymore, he should not care for the foul creature that left him with his pain that was internal, incurable. But abandonment is a harsh reality, as Eros knew only too well.

Once the thought was out, it flooded her with an agony that made her scream out, head tipped back and ears flat against her skull. The pain was overwhelming, and nearly brought her old withered bones to the ground beneath her. But will fought back the horrible memoir, fought back the harsh reality that Daemon was gone, that Daemon would never return... she was utterly alone in the single second that passed. Then Fake turned and fled, and it was over.

She had not heard his parting words, had not seen the step back, the faltered look that erupted behind his glazed eyes. She did not see the weakness that he held when he turned his back to her. An enemy. One who's identity had been mistaken, an animal who felt the same agony as a total stranger who she had had the chance to stumble upon. She only saw a frail, off white Wolfhound who had a story to tell. One that was too horrible to recall without turning away, leaving the tale half told.

She shared his pain.

FLASHBACK

Deimos Eros Lupati turned her head slowly, not bothering to shift her body, her weight. She blinked into the setting sun, watched the huge ball of fire burning so far away drift down past the strangling branches of massive oaks. The dry rasp echoed from his hollow throat, and could be taken as an empty sigh. The currently silver wolf turned her head back to the glorious sight of the lake, and 'sighed' again, allowing her lungs to expand and collapse in on themselves as she drank in the freezing air through her nostrils. She flared them every now and again, dark now twitching as she let the scent wreck havoc on her body and mind, sending her into a rage, or on the verge of screaming, or even flinging herself toward the dangerous fields that stretched miles and mingled bones and the stench of death. The Fields could be deadly to her, she mused idly, if she decided not to fight back. Merely let herself be taken. Ah, freedom. But suicide was out of the question, simply something her stubborn streak would not allow. She was stubborn by nature, and would definitely fight back, simply because of the unwillingness to leave so easily. She would conquer, as well. She was ruler, she would remain that way. Deimos was deathly when she wanted to be, teeth and claws harsh against skin as she tossed herself into battle with blood on her mind. She plucked up a wide paw as to make an example of why she should remain alive, why her opponent should be dead. Her right foreleg fell back to the earth, settling between her hind legs along with her left fore. She sat still beneath the large willow, gazing out at the crystal water with serene gray eyes, watching the gulls drop down their wings and pluck up small fish. Bliss.

Ears fell back into her dark 'mane' [her constantly raised hackles], nostrils toyed with the black of her blaze as they flared, eyes widening slightly and dull gaze traveled slowly over the soft grasses and glass water she called home. Water swirled with a throbbing affection around her hocks and hind, making her claws glisten and her tail weight down. Black stockings stretched up loyally to all four of her knees, then flecked against her legs in gentle dapples against her shoulder and hip. Her tail fell, guided by gravity, toward the ground. Her tail was long and flexible, and swung when her weight shifted in the slightest. Eyelids dropped in a slow, sleepy blink, and took all her will to pull back up. She felt so much like tipping to the side and curling up and sleeping, legs tucked against her belly, head resting on her forepaws. It was a useless wish, however, because being here without being alert was like suicide itself. She absolutely detested being snuck up on, especially when little kids decide she's 'pretty' and touch her. Her lips rose now, muzzle crinkling as her teeth shone in the sunlight. Ah, the dangers of touching her! With a sigh, however, she dropped her lips and dropped her head from its regal position. Lazy legs carried her to the bench tucked beneath the willow, and she stepped up onto it. Stepped, yes. She was large for a wolf, averaging somewhere in the neighborhood in the size of a bear. She settled into the small bench, small to her, at least, and curled up, attempting to rest. Cat nap. She snickered at the irony, and it sounded more like a raspy growl. Her eyes fell closed, while her ears tossed around atop her head, black tips flicking back and forth as she surveyed the surroundings blindly.

character Deimos Eros Lupita.
word count 1312. Pretty average, nothing special.
status Complete.
muse Fairly good at the beginning, horrid toward the end.