Biography
oops is this too much?
A small trickle of light pooled through a crack in the thick branches of bountiful oak trees surrounding a porcelain white female, who's violet eyes seemed more like charcoal in the dark. Long had it been since she had seen the true light. Sunlight was not of virtue in the times that she craved for something, someone- who'd bring more light to her life than three million stars.
Her entire life so far had been forgetful. Who would remember her when she was gone? Who would live, if not only to tell her story? The story of a crownless queen, of her kingdom of one. She had nobody to thank for her birth, no warm eyes to remember when things got cold. She could only recall the silky black pelt of her father, and his vermillion cloak hed sheltered her in so many times.
Her mother had grown ill after her birth, dying shortly after after months of pain. The ghastly pale female couldn't say she missed her. After all, how could you miss someone you didn't remember?
Rain poured outside the small cave she'd taken shelter inside of. A crimson cloak covered her fur, taking the bullets of water as they came. Dark blue ears flickered at every drop that hit them, shredded from countless rough nights.
``Who but I shall be there for you, by miraculous Vermillion?``
Her father had been slaughtered by an alpha in a battle of dominance. Her father, older than he let on, and weaker than he ever let himself be, had lost to the strong brute. Vermillion had been forced to run. At only a year old, she snatched his cloak, and left the corpse of her father behind, trying her damned best not to look back.
Meek paws stood to the ground, sinking in the thick mud the rain had created. Violet eyes were lidded now, with exhaustion and incomprehensible pain. With years of suffering and lonliness, and years of knowing her fathers death was in the blame of her own cowardice. Vermillion parted the branches with her head as she headed into the rain, blood on her paws being washed off by the steady downfall.
Vermillion, nowhere else to look towards- no one else to go to, walked. She trudged through cold and mud, and rain, until her paws ached. In the middle of the moorlands, she was alone. Painfully so, but with all her experience in lonliness, this was just another day for her. There wouldn't be another. Her eyes closed as she collapsed, black clouds rolling in.
That was, until a golden light parted them. At first thought, any wolf would have assumed the sun had decided to show itself, but lavender eyes knew better. This wasn't the sun, for if it was, why would the clouds cower away as if burned by its delicate touch? Why would the light stream down onto her, of all wolves.
A delicate nose pressed to her cheek, sliding down until a wolf's forehead pressed close to her eye. Vermillion was forced to awaken, baffled close to the inability to speak. There, before her very eyes was a wolf made of actual light, wearing a golden crown.
This wolf said nothing, didn't dare give a name until it was to the point where vermillion wasnt sure it /could/ talk.
The wolf helped vermillion to her feet, it's golden tongue darting out to lap at her cheek, backing up, dipping it's head, and nearly turning to leave, before hestiating.
"Not all queens are deemed worthy of a crown, my child." It spoke, voice soft and melodic. With that, it dipped its head once more, ridding of the golden crown onto the ground.
"I've lived my life. I've done countless things wrong, and I have no way of telling if what I did will help the world in any way. I must leave this earth, though. That is all that is certain."
If it had eyes, it would have been staring right at Vermillion, but without it seemed to be staring right through her. Sightless.
"I cannot hold on much longer, my dear child." It turned, ears pinning back against it's cranium. "It is your turn now. To take my place, to rule like I never could have. You might be just a mere dirty peasant to others, but not in the eyes of me. I see a goddess behind those lifeless eyes." The former queen did not look back.
Breeding Info
N/A
| Personality
Make sure they tell your story, Vermillion."
With that, it had disappeared before Vermillion could usher out a single word. She sat there for a few seconds before putting the crown on, staring down at her reflection in a puddle.
Red truly was a powerful color, was it not?
----
Soon it would be time for Vermillion to pass on the crown, as well. Her pawsteps thundersd with the oncoming telling of the end. She'd done great in her life, but was it enough? Would her life, her countless nights of lonliness, of death, of doing ungodly things just so that she and her family could survive in this damned world--
Would it be enough?
She couldn't know. Before her sat her very own kin, her son. His violet eyes mirrored her own as she smiled, passing on the crown to him. Wolves surrounded them, countless, but her focus was not on the crowd, but rather her Impulse. He moved to nuzzle her, and all wolves, both of poor and rich, of peasantry and royalty, howled together. It did not matter a bit, whether or not they were born of red or of blue. Everyone would celebrate the passing of their Queen, of the great Vermillion.
She may have not been dead yet, but mothers already sat down their kin, whispering the story of the red queen, of how she'd grown from nothing, of dispair and sorrow, to everything.
Preferences
I must thank the amazing Telle Tilla (92942) for gifting me this beautiful wolf. Even though its only digital, it means a lot to me.
Special Skills
It's a special gift, to be able to bring even an ounce of hope to a world so goddamn cruel.
|
Spring 
Day Weather: 
