Prologue
She heaves, panting heavily as pain travelled through her body faster than her blood could. With every moment of opening her eyes, nothing but stars are seen, vision blurred as her body twists and turns.
The female was only a girl.
No older than seven winters old. And here, this girl suffers whilst she dies. She gasps as her breath is more quick, lighter despite the danger she is tormented with. She screams out wishing that she wasn't alone. As if the Loki hadn't taken a liken to her; She heaves and nothing but droplets of blood leave her mouth.
By now, tears run down her face as she suffocates on her dead lungs, her organs aside from her heart, had died out long before.
She coughs up blood, more now. A small puddle of the red substance had created a puddle beside her. The little girl gasps once more, and froze as her heart stopped. No longer pumping for survival, a chance to live.
The girl had ventured into the forests before this horrendous incident, and took a liking to silence. She smiled softly as a fawn grazed grass, to her left, near the meadow flowers.
She had walked further, deeper into the forest as the sunlight grew shy and tired. The moon, winding itself into the dark and starry sky, waiting for its worshippers, for the praise.
She had fell to her knees whilst watching the soft glows of fireflies before her, a ripple of pain that was so simple she had thought nothing of it until a minute later her last moments of life was witnessed as it ended. Like a lovers embrace.
Her mama searched for her the next morning, and no matter how much of a mother she was, no worry had sketched itself on her face.
She wandered into the forests like her daughter had and stayed to the path her little child had taken. As she grew closer, a snarl had emitted before her as a wolf stood over the child's lifeless body.
She chuckles, raspy but light, and scolded the feral pup. And whilst she did, other wolves crept out of the shadows, tamed and needy for comfort.
The woman smiled softly and sang lightly as she kneeled beside her daughter. She caressed the cold face before cutting into the clothes, hiding any indecency. She was her mother after all, it was instinct and she wanted privacy for her daughter from the wolves.
She slid a dagger from her pocket and cut a slice into the childs exposed skin. She continued, her skills neat and quick until the heart was at view. She removed the heart and stood, ripping a piece of her dress and wrapped the dead organ.
Tutting at the alpha wolf, she began walking home; knowing the wolves would follow with her daughter. From then the mother cared for her daughter and with her venom, the girl began to breathe, her organs doing their roles as if nothing had happened.
The wound her mother inflicted the day before, a pink scar against the mocha skin.
A week passes, and the girl only just opened her eyes. It was vaguely dark and the shadows overwhelmed the traumatised girl as the light was her eyes glowing white.
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