Date: Wednesday, January 15, 1997 8:07 PM

The Trials to Unite...<three>

She did not recall dragging herself to the Caern… She remembered only a tunnel of agony, bright and luminous, which drew her onward like cat batting at a moth through glass, paws making a rhythmic lub-dub as they knocked to let the prey in… She inched her way forward, throwing up gory residue often to mark her trail, should any care to follow. Abraded from head to foot, clothing tattered and stained as her soul, she crawled into the clearing, feeling the welcoming thrum pulse through the ground. Warm indigo waves lapped her deserted shores, and for a second, just one second she returned to herself; then was gone again.

Retching still, she curled into a tiny ball at the center of the spiral, shivering; the night held its warmer breath for the next day. How much blood had she lost? She did not know… Nor at that moment did she care. All was visceral agony and abandonment to the torture of breathing, of letting her heart beat a few more seconds. Panting, gasping, choking, she attempted to speak the words to invoke the healing she knew she required… Nothing but hateful mews escaped her laboring lungs. Her larynx had been crushed in the fall.

Furious at this new trial, she raged within her mind, battling the demon of unconsciousness with weak and pitiful swipes. Her strength was almost spent. To dream… To surrender… She willed a partial change, forcing the mending bones to reshape themselves, splintering again, tearing through both meat and skin… The agony was too intense; she writhed, parting her lips and throwing back her head… The wail was stillborn, a frozen stream of noiseless air, pantomiming the throws of her torment. Hungry to reclaim her, the darkness swallowed her whole.

---

Alone with the entropy, she dreamt…

Her forest was on fire. She could smell the burning flesh of her packmates around her as they battled the flame, cursing her for her the fool she was. And from somewhere in the firelight a dark and twisted form laughed at her efforts, taunting her.

She muttered in her sleep, twitching slightly as the humiliation and fear consumed her.

The images blurred, and she was once again caged within gleaming bars, a noose of the finest silver burrowing into her throat even as she screamed and clawed at it. Finely dressed figures paused to gawk at the pet lycanthrope, pale faces contorted with mirth… A hand descended as if to pet her, and she snarled, leaping towards the splayed fingers, letting her teeth sink deep into the yielding skin, ripping, tearing… She was surprised by the new pain which washed over her, and yelped a high keen of despair, realizing too late that is was her own limb she warred with. Their laughter burned fiercer than the collar she wore.

White features almost too beautiful to look at, their eyes swept over her in mock delight, reveling her humility; marveling at the suppleness of her form as she cringed, naked, in the farthest corner of her box. Come, speak for us, mistress of dogs… Oh how she despised them, biting her tongue lest she accidentally give voice to her rage and fulfill their requests.

Light, erratic footsteps, and the Mistress came, dressed in a chiffon of the airiest crimson silk. She was a goddess to look at but her eyes, her eyes spoke of a millennia of madness, sadistic and infantile. She stated at Canth a good long while, wooing her with her powers to dominate, twisting Canth's hatred in on itself, forcing adoration. Canth gazed at her with infinite love, pure and simple desires to please, even as she shrieked for revenge within. Confusion and loathing shattered her mind into a thousand irreplaceable shards. The mirror was broken, you see, and all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put it back together again. She giggled, gaily crawling towards the figure in red, stopping only to run her cheek over the hem of her Mistress's dress.

"Come my friends… we dine."

Masks cast aside, the guests smiled, bloodless lips pulling up to reveal brilliant ivory fangs. A slow hiss of anticipation filled the dinning hall, and like vultures they pulled Canth from the Mistress legs and pinned her to the floor. She struggled, desperately looking towards Mistress for some reason for this betrayal, crying out as each new set of teeth pierced her. Her goddess stood cold and aloof, an almost compassionate smile curling across her face as her eyes hungry drank in the pain that was pleasure, the pleasure that was pain. Canth went into shock from blood loss, eyes gone glassy, mind retreating to the fields of her puppihood as the warmth was stolen from her in greedy sips. A single voice trailed her fragmenting consciousness down to the most primitive level…

"This is delicious, my love… You must service us more often."

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