Reflection (open)

[Leo]

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[atrb=background,http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q21/winkatuck/leoleoleo.png] Leo walked through the marsh, in a better mood than he had been before he left. He now knew that his power was no only back under his control, but it was greater than it had ever been before. He had believed that it would take years of practice to get to this level of power, but he was being proved wrong. However, he was still suffering from a deep uncertainty. His movements were no longer as sure (at least when no one was looking), and he couldn’t help but think back to the morning, when he had woken up besides Nepara. He had barely spoken to her since, and he wasn’t sure if that bothered him or not. The thing that did bother him was the emotional barriers that she had destroyed. He was struggling to hold back the flood of emotions, most of which he couldn’t name, as it had been so long since he had properly experienced any of them. The one that bothered him the most, was the stirring sensation that rose every time his thoughts drifted to Nepara, which was a lot. He was desperately trying to remember the events that had happened while he was suffering from the fever, but he was only succeeding in frustrating himself. He paused in his walking, realizing he was at the exact same place he had first met Nepara and Artellia. How much had changed in such a short period of time? He wondered if any of these would have happened had he not revealed himself, due to his thirst. Would he have ever met Nepara? Would he ever have lost control of his barriers, and sacrificed his pride. Would he be suffering this inner turmoil now? Logically, no. But, deep inside, he was entertaining the idea, that they were destined to meet, one way or another.

[Pandora]

April showers bring may flowers. A spring in her step, Pandora walked in the marsh. She was in the south. No more snow, no cold. The heat, the sun were with her again. Oh how she loved to wander. Travel the world. It was a thrill. To see, to learn new things, to understand. Pandora hated to be held down. It felt like a death grip was holding her fast, crushing the life out of her. Her pads squished into the soft earth. It smelled of dirt, of wetness. The grass was tall, the trees lean. A marsh was a marsh. They were all the same. Except this ones close to home. It was a place to come and think. To be alone. Not many come here because of the fact it's a marsh. It gave Pandora space. A change to be herself, think her thoughts then proceed back to the pack. Occasionally she would see a loner, mostly they kept to themselves.

The horrors her young life has seen thus far. Murder blood shed, slavery. Pandora was taught young to never fear, for it was a weakness. And once your enemy knew your weakness you were dead. She was taught the art of killing, destroying, spreading fear. It was all she knew, all she cared about. Growing up this way didn't change the fact that she was scared. Pandora would never reveal them, not until her dying days, not even that.