Post by Magda on Nov 7, 2008 18:52:24 GMT -5
Magda shivered as she set the lamp down on the grass. It was a gas lamp- not electricity or batteries for her thankyou very much. They were strictly locked away in the Werewolf Base, ready for a time when they were really needed. For now, Magda had to make do with the second-rate stuff, which was not too shabby at all considering it did it's job surprisingly well. It was efficient too, but considering it was an old standard army-issue gas lamp, that was to be expected.
She scanned the empty park. It was a wide, vacant space where anyone would be left open to attack. By rights of survival alone, Magda guessed that nobody would dare come here anymore, lest they be shot. That was exactly why she had chosen this spot to come to tonight. She wrapped her arms around herself, against the cold. The low lamp threw long, dramatic shadows all over the empty stretch of grass around her. There was a dense fringe of trees on three sides, and on the fourth was a large glassy pond. It was also cold, but she hadn't bothered to wear anything except the threadbare jumper and a pair of old sweatpants because she knew she'd just destroy them anyway.
The dew slicked every blade of grass, and soaked her bare feet. Plopping herself down onto an old bench just a little way away from the lamp, she huddled against her own body weight, willing herself to stay warm, listening intently for breathing or footsteps around her. Her nose waiting for Strike's scent. He'd said he wasn't going to leave her alone when she was due to change, but Magda knew she had to be as alone as possible. Nevertheless, the Kragarian had an annoying habit of getting his own way.
She looked up to the sky, the full moon veiled by a thick tuft of cloud. That little bit of cloud was the only thing separating her from absolute agony right now, and with a pang of terror in her stomach, she knew it wouldn't be long before the wind blew it aside.
"Okay," she whispered, her teeth chattering, "let's see what you've got." The words were more to herself than her lunar adversary, serving a purpose of comfort and self-support. They were the whispered words of a 'tough guy', as Magda tried to steel herself as much as possible for the ordeal ahead. It wasn't working though, and she felt as empty and alone as ever. So, staring back down to the yellow glow of the lamp, she watched the light and waited for the clouds to part.
When they did, she felt the effects immediately.
She scanned the empty park. It was a wide, vacant space where anyone would be left open to attack. By rights of survival alone, Magda guessed that nobody would dare come here anymore, lest they be shot. That was exactly why she had chosen this spot to come to tonight. She wrapped her arms around herself, against the cold. The low lamp threw long, dramatic shadows all over the empty stretch of grass around her. There was a dense fringe of trees on three sides, and on the fourth was a large glassy pond. It was also cold, but she hadn't bothered to wear anything except the threadbare jumper and a pair of old sweatpants because she knew she'd just destroy them anyway.
The dew slicked every blade of grass, and soaked her bare feet. Plopping herself down onto an old bench just a little way away from the lamp, she huddled against her own body weight, willing herself to stay warm, listening intently for breathing or footsteps around her. Her nose waiting for Strike's scent. He'd said he wasn't going to leave her alone when she was due to change, but Magda knew she had to be as alone as possible. Nevertheless, the Kragarian had an annoying habit of getting his own way.
She looked up to the sky, the full moon veiled by a thick tuft of cloud. That little bit of cloud was the only thing separating her from absolute agony right now, and with a pang of terror in her stomach, she knew it wouldn't be long before the wind blew it aside.
"Okay," she whispered, her teeth chattering, "let's see what you've got." The words were more to herself than her lunar adversary, serving a purpose of comfort and self-support. They were the whispered words of a 'tough guy', as Magda tried to steel herself as much as possible for the ordeal ahead. It wasn't working though, and she felt as empty and alone as ever. So, staring back down to the yellow glow of the lamp, she watched the light and waited for the clouds to part.
When they did, she felt the effects immediately.