Post by Magda on Feb 1, 2010 16:34:01 GMT -5
How easy would it be to turn around and walk away? To pretend she’d never been here at all and cast all these thoughts of striding inside and requesting a discussion with the Alpha out of her mind? How easy would it be, she wondered, to save face and keep away from here? But unfortunately for her, it wasn’t about doing what was easy, it was about doing what was right, and she needed to speak to Strike, sooner rather than later.
Wasn’t it funny how she still thought of Strike as the only Alpha even though she wasn’t even in his pack anymore? She would rather die than accept Davis as a leader. He was simply an old adversary, turned... was there a more neutral word than ally? Ally implied friendship. Magda was just on his side, she wasn’t his bestest pal, his close chum, or buddy-buddy. Strike was the only Alpha she'd ever acknowledge, and to some extent her loyalties still lay with the man in the mall. But she wasn’t here to switch sides.
Magda stood silently at the edge of the car park and tapped a knife repetitively, quickly, anxiously against the palm of her hand. The sound was a soft slap of stainless steel against Immortal flesh, a silvery flash hitting the ivory skin of her palm. She was tapping out a rapid beat on her own skin, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip, eyes staring out at the mall before her unblinkingly.
Hopefully, she’d still be allowed on the premises. This wasn’t her pack base, or her pack territory at all, but Strike had okayed city runs for food, weaponry and other supplies. Even though this wasn’t exactly a city run, she was still a wolf after all, and surely Strike’s policy of protection still applied to his own kind... and therefore to her, who was - after all - a Werewolf as a direct result of his own actions. He wouldn’t attack her on sight... right? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine.
Magda decided she didn't want to risk it.
It occurred to her now that there was no chance of meeting Dane in that building. Dane was gone, long gone. She hadn’t smelled him around this city for months. That should have been a good thing, since she didn’t want to hang around for longer than what was necessary, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain in her gut. She was alone again.
Isabeya could be in there too... How was she holding up without Stramn? How was Alaric?
Magda stared at the ground, forcing back emotion she told herself weren’t there. Stramn was one of the few allies she’d ever known, and she’d lost him. The Angels had taken him from Izzy, from Alaric... from all of them. If Strike had never exiled him, would he still be with them? Would his son have had the chance to know his father? Magda got the feeling that in time, when the boy was old enough to understand, she’d see him again, and that dreaded question would come up: Did you know my father?
Magda turned her back to the mall. From where she stood on the roof of a car beyond the parking lot, she could see the rising sun. It was dawn, and in some way that was oddly fitting for her purpose. The light breaking over the horizon painted the world in orange and gold, making the building behind her look more like a palace than a mall.
Her stomach felt cold with dread and anxiety. If she gave herself time to over-think this she'd end up jumping right off this battered black Vauxhall Astra and sprinting in the other direction, she could feel it. But she wasn't a coward, and like the wolf she stood her ground, lifted up her chin, and howled to her one and only Alpha.
Wasn’t it funny how she still thought of Strike as the only Alpha even though she wasn’t even in his pack anymore? She would rather die than accept Davis as a leader. He was simply an old adversary, turned... was there a more neutral word than ally? Ally implied friendship. Magda was just on his side, she wasn’t his bestest pal, his close chum, or buddy-buddy. Strike was the only Alpha she'd ever acknowledge, and to some extent her loyalties still lay with the man in the mall. But she wasn’t here to switch sides.
Magda stood silently at the edge of the car park and tapped a knife repetitively, quickly, anxiously against the palm of her hand. The sound was a soft slap of stainless steel against Immortal flesh, a silvery flash hitting the ivory skin of her palm. She was tapping out a rapid beat on her own skin, her teeth nibbling on her lower lip, eyes staring out at the mall before her unblinkingly.
Hopefully, she’d still be allowed on the premises. This wasn’t her pack base, or her pack territory at all, but Strike had okayed city runs for food, weaponry and other supplies. Even though this wasn’t exactly a city run, she was still a wolf after all, and surely Strike’s policy of protection still applied to his own kind... and therefore to her, who was - after all - a Werewolf as a direct result of his own actions. He wouldn’t attack her on sight... right? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine.
Magda decided she didn't want to risk it.
It occurred to her now that there was no chance of meeting Dane in that building. Dane was gone, long gone. She hadn’t smelled him around this city for months. That should have been a good thing, since she didn’t want to hang around for longer than what was necessary, but she couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain in her gut. She was alone again.
Isabeya could be in there too... How was she holding up without Stramn? How was Alaric?
Magda stared at the ground, forcing back emotion she told herself weren’t there. Stramn was one of the few allies she’d ever known, and she’d lost him. The Angels had taken him from Izzy, from Alaric... from all of them. If Strike had never exiled him, would he still be with them? Would his son have had the chance to know his father? Magda got the feeling that in time, when the boy was old enough to understand, she’d see him again, and that dreaded question would come up: Did you know my father?
Magda turned her back to the mall. From where she stood on the roof of a car beyond the parking lot, she could see the rising sun. It was dawn, and in some way that was oddly fitting for her purpose. The light breaking over the horizon painted the world in orange and gold, making the building behind her look more like a palace than a mall.
Her stomach felt cold with dread and anxiety. If she gave herself time to over-think this she'd end up jumping right off this battered black Vauxhall Astra and sprinting in the other direction, she could feel it. But she wasn't a coward, and like the wolf she stood her ground, lifted up her chin, and howled to her one and only Alpha.