ILSE

rose grey, brown eyes, avian-boned and petite. click

• precocious
• a flirt
• daring
• irritable
• careless
• needy

More than anything, Druid was tired. His eyelids felt as though they were laden with granite, decorated with lashes of heavy, damp leather. Damp because of the tears which had finally dried up; he had nothing left to give and in their place, upon his russian cheek bones, were the remains of rivers they had run - stained trails of broken promises and a guilt which crushed his lungs. If only he could close those blue, blue eyes and sleep away the horror that was buried beneath his skin. But there was no rest for the wicked, as they say, and the man stood knee deep in the spray. Druid's thoughts rotated and rewound over the same things time and time again; each playback seemed more awful. The love of his life had been raped, and where had he been? Perhaps more importantly, what had he done since discovering the tragedy? The wolf son had done what had always seemed easiest - he had slipped back into the shadows... Dare was better off without him anyway.

The child was born now. He didn't even know it's name, only that it was a boy, a son, a legacy of violence. Druid felt that familiar wave of nausea and hatred surge upwards, and the towering stallion snarled suddenly, tossing his head with an explosion of frustration. Everything had gone wrong, just when it was starting to go right.

The sun was beginning to sink beneath the far-off, watery horizon and Druid found himself drawn to it's faded serenity. One step after another took the roan deeper into the ocean which foamed at the mouth, just waiting to devour his body if he made a mistake. And he noticed how easy it would be to simply sink - to just... stop breathing. Oh, what a beautiful ending and it was as this thought crossed Dru's mind he jerked upwards once more. If it was one thing he did not deserve, it was an easy death. And so he turned back towards the shore - as he did so, a figure caught his eye, one that seemed familiar. It was with a weary sigh that the blue man dragged himself from the dark, swirling waters before turning his head toward the stranger. Except this was no stranger at all; it was the mother of his children, his two gorgeous daughters. Faye. Druid snorted a soft greeting, the air clouding, but that was all he could muster.