It was a small pool of water, almost a pond but not quite, merely a shallow pool of still, dark water. It also happened to be the object of Skadi’s attention. She stared into her own reflection, both faces studying the other. Blank eyes that could still see, dark fur with traces of blue… What did one make of herself? For surely they didn’t see what she saw, or could they? No, everyone had be gifted with their own set of eyes, their own set to see the world as they saw fit – not through someone else’s. That wasn’t to say you couldn’t leek your own views into a weaker mind, some hounds existed for that reason – to be pawns – but Skadi doubted that in the grand scheme of things they had been made to be so lowly, so easily corrupt amounst their fellows. Or perhaps, perhaps they were offerings to those who saw what the common could not see, saw a window of oppurtinty – for themselves, but it was an oppurtunity no less. And one was to seize it, passing such things by would be a foolish mistake. No one would reject the world, if it was handed to them on a silver platter. No one with a half a brain in their head anyways.

One paw reached out, claws gently skimming the surface, ripples emerging from their touch. The smallest things could set one off. A touch sent the pool spiralling into unrest. A word could light the fuse of one’s temper, an action call forth vengance. Emotions were tricky things, but if one knew how to pull the right strings, well, there was a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow. Control, it seemed so simple, but it was so complex, a puzzle of the mind. Once you had obtained it, how quickly could you loose it? And how did one obtain it at all? Dominance, that was the key in Skadi’s mind. Being better, you had to be faster, smarter, stronger than the other. No one followed the weak, no one looked up to them, no one gave them respect – or rather one was given the little respect they might’ve deserved –and so it all widdled down to being better, something Skadi didn’t think she was so lacking in herself.

Fog, it crept towards her, she could feel it and then saw it as it clouded her vision of her own face. The fog was always there, faithful almost. It was an example of a follower. Such a shame. You were given life, given eyes to make something out of yourself, a follower could never do that. You could not lurk in the shadows of someone else your whole life. Not if you wanted to be something. And so she would be making something out of herself, she would be making something out of everything. In chaos there was comfort, and so Skadi would give them that. She give them something interesting to sink their teeth into, indeed.


( Sorry, it's not that great, mostly a bunch of rambling. x_x; )