◦.·✧. y𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴 ◦.·✧
This is the tale of Daciana, a young woman who is the last surviving member of the Silver Crown pack. Unlike...
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"I feel like I'm going insane."
◦ ✧ ☾ ✧ ◦
THE LARGE WHITE HOUSE STOOD in a shadow of darkness, illuminated only by the soft hue of the street lights. Regina remained at the town hall cleaning up the mess from earlier, blissfully unaware that Freya had left Henry with Emma and the two had reconciled.
Freya opened the black iron gate and approached the front porch, her high heel boots clicked rhythmically along the brick path leading to the front porch. She paused in front of the door as she blindly dug around in her purse for her keys. As she found the keys, she promptly unlocked the door and turned the porch and foyer lights on. The door gently swinging shut behind her.
Silently, she walked up curved staircase and down the familiar hallway to the young boy's room. The door opened without a creak and she discarded his backpack in it's usually spot to the right of his dresser, turning on the main light in the process.
She was about to leave the room when she caught sight of the corner of the worn brown leather book peaking out through the zipper of the bag. For whatever reason, Henry would never share his findings within the book to her. Maybe this would be the only opportunity she'd get to understand what was going on and why this book was so important.
"Maybe you should read it?"
In a split second, Freya had unzipped the backpack and pulled the book out. Only moments after her hands gripped the edges of the storybook her vision tunnelled, turning black for an instant before exploding into vibrant colours of another world.
Freya found herself standing on the sidelines as a woman, who held a striking resemblance to Mary Margaret Blanchard, ran into the small underground cave she found herself in. It appeared to hold all the necessities one would need for a life on the run, purely acting as a place to sleep and hide when needed.
The familiar, yet unfamiliar, woman removed her brown leather gloves and forest green cape before she turned to face Freya.
"Any updates on the whereabout of the Queen's guards?" she asked, breathily.
Though she was conscious, it appeared whatever dream or memory state she was in prevented her from having any control over her actions. Without thinking Freya opened her mouth to respond, pausing in confusion when she found herself unable to speak. However, the scene continued on like nothing had happened and whatever form she was in simply let out a whine and shook its head.
The woman seemed to understand her perfectly as she moved to scratch the top of her head. "Good girl. We've been lucky that her guards haven't found this place yet."
