The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
Dressing Up
I awoke to the gentle thrum of Fable's heart, his breathing reverberating through my body. Opening my eyes, I blinked away the grogginess to find myself curled against his chest, head resting in the thick mane of silver about his neck. He met my gaze, proving he'd been awake for some time but only now stirring as I yawned and stretched. I scratched behind his horn, grateful for his tender consideration.
The morning air was cool and drafty, creeping across my skin like icy tendrils. Shivering, I rubbed my arms, massaging some warmth back into them. If today was anything like the last week, it would warm by the time the sun was overhead, but that information was hardly comforting in the unusual chill. I glanced longingly at Fable, but he quickly stood, giving me an expression I'd learned was the wolf equivalent of an eye-roll.