Cheating Death Takes it's Toll....

[Chenoa]

It's Death again - He's always there -
Watching, waiting, with a stare.
Every time I look behind,
Or reach to pull the window blind,
I catch a glimpse of grubby hood -
A little clue to where he stood:
The glint of light that caught the scythe.
Perhaps if I could pay a tithe…

Chenoa sat outside tonight, just outside the safety of the pub that had become her home for the past few weeks. Her body was a little off balance, sitting on the concrete sidewalk with her back against the building just out of sight of most common walking citizens of the city. Her hair of white fell gently into her face, one lock at a time from behind her shoulders, her eyes of silver staring off into the pitch darkness of her own mind.

She was loosing herself to her own mind, loosing herself to her own sanity and thoughts. Within a week's time, she herself, the blind uktena theurge of the Shadow Strike pack, had cheated death no less then three times. Four if one included the encounter with the angry father of the mountain, who had purposefully thrown a sharp object at her to prove his point that she was weak without her sight. The thought of that particular evening made the hairs on the back of Chenoa's neck stand on end. She was not Weak. Would she still be alive if she was? Was she weak because she cared for those who could not care for themself? Was she weak because she held compassion within her heart, not just hatred and war?

Her mind slipped as she answered her own question aloud "No..." her eyes of silver seemed dazed, as if her thoughts were dragging her further and further down into the dark abyss of madness. She could still vividly remember how the world looked when she had inhabited the mouse's body, and how the insides of the owl looked and reeked when she was being eaten alive. She couldn't shake the feeling of the rabbit creatures that seemed to be eating her liver and organs, digging their way through her skin and chomping away and her still living flesh. A shiver ran through her spine, recollecting herself and trying to shake the terrifying images. She would not show her fear, she could not. A more serious face appeared on the normally calm and quiet fae, her fists clenching tightly around her knees.

No, she would not be weak like her Alpha Shreds the Stone had been. She would not show her fear, she would not run away. A small twisted smile appeared on those thin lips, something rare and eerie lining them, something obviously wrong with how Chenoa normally acted. No, she would show the other garou that she was useful. She would welcome death when it came calling for her, but she would not let it take her as easily as it took Blood Song. A small nodd of her head, unconsciously made another lock fall and dangle in her lovely face, but she didn't much care, it wasn't obscuring her darkened vision.

"Oh, you poor thing..." Came the voice of a passer by, a soft metalic sound hitting the ground at Chenoa's feet. It jingled for a moment, before the coins rolled gently into the fae's thigh. Her head remained low, her hair covering mose of her face, those black glasses she wore glinting the light off of the street lamps nearby. She could hear the lady's footsteps fade away slowly, her words peircing and cruel to Chenoa's ears. 'Poor thing'? Poor Thing?? Her teeth clenched and if she could have a growl would have escaped those red lips of hers. A snort instead cascaded out of her nostrils, and that sinister grin returned to her face. No, she'd let everyone continue to believe that she was useless. She'd let everyone believe that she was weak. Let them take care of me, and protect me all they like. The more allies I have, the less likely I'll be killed by another mistake.. She thought to herself, blowing a lock or two of hair out of her face with a gentle exhale.

Something had changed within her, something she could not explain. It seemed that Chenoa was through playing by the rules of someone else's cruel game. She would still be the kind hearted soul on the outside, while inside her whole world began to sink further into darkness, further into her corrupted version of what she saw as everyone else, say at least for a few. First of all, she would begin her mission to ally as many garou as possible. If not for herself, then for her failing pack, small and weak in the blind one's eyes.

Her fingers slowly moved forward on the concrete, their tips lightly tracing around the circular coins the lady had dropped for her. Her head tilted back and she gave a lighthearted chuckle, picking up the coins and holding them tenderly in her hand. She had no use of them, except as a reminder of all those who thought her weak, who thought her as a 'poor thing'. A reminder of all...her Enemies, and how they foolishly saw her...

But oh, no use, he'll never go -
The adamant phantom – don't you know,
He will but wait until it's time-?
For me to hear His fateful chime:
The toll that's only meant for me -
To say 'You're next, it has to be…'