is it fate that guides us here? [slawter bby <3]

A lithe body moved through the undergrowth, paws lightly skipping over frost encrusted leaf litter and breath coming out in little wisps of smoke. The shepherd gasped and came to a halt at the border of a small creek, winding its way through the glen and gently cascading over the small ledge just a few feet away. Its soft music was soothing, peaceful, and somehow calmed the pain within her heart as she leant her head down to drink from the clear waters.

The water was cold; it would have been refreshing if the day had been warm enough, but now it just burnt her raw throat – the day had been bitter, and she had jogged a long way. Having quenched her thirst, Grace sat back and stared into the crystal stream, stained orange by the rays of the setting sun which filtered through the trees. She knew she was close to the city now, that if she continued on her way, she would likely find somewhere to rest for the night before it got dark.

But it was so nice here that she felt she would like to stay for a while, eyes closed and just listening to the peace all around her. Though she held great fondness for the city –the creations of the humans were so interesting- she wondered if the pain she carried would intensify if she were to wander back through the alleyways and streets. After all, it was there that she had lost her sister and gained her scars.

All because of one dog.

Suddenly, Grace’s eyes snapped open and she rose to her feet. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? For revenge. As if erasing the life of that dog would somehow erase the pain and sorrow of losing her dear sister. Even if she didn’t have much to go on; her memories were just a red tinted blur, she couldn’t remember much but the name because it had been exactly fitting. But she would tear this place apart if she had to because this was something she had to do. Some pacifist.

With a sigh, Grace gazed at her faint reflection in the waters. It rippled and waved and was stained in places by the sun, but she knew the scars were there.

It had taken months for her to fully recover from her injuries –it was a miracle she survived at all- but the absence of her sister was always just as prominent as it had been from the day she dragged her own heavy body away from that alley, and eventually, away from the city. She had travelled far out when she had been well enough to do so, taking up residence in an abandoned cottage along an equally abandoned lane. She had not wanted to be disturbed.

And in those months, she thought of that demon and her hatred had festered, grown like a cancer until it had taken over her whole being and she swore she wouldn’t rest until that dog was dead. That was the reason she had survived, she was sure of it.

Once again, the shepherd flopped to the ground, lying on her side. She could say all this as much as she wanted, but what were the chances of her actually finding this one dog in a city full of dogs?

She’d have to be damn lucky.