Where the Wild Ones Roam

"Won't you let yourself just indulge? Just a little bit?" Agathe's green eyes flickered to the boy beside her. His sun kissed skin shone with sweat from the scorching sun, black raven hair peaking from beneath the hood of his jacket. She knew him, not in the sense that she knew his name. He'd tail her sometimes, grin a wolffish grin at her. Then ask her annoying questions, like now. "I don't know what you are talking about" she replied standing up from where she perched on the rooftops. Of the homes that were built in the wastes. "What's your name?"

~~~~~~~~

Agathe was born with every instinct in her body screaming at her to survive. She'd killed and hurt, so she can see the sun rise the next morning. Abandoning the hope that she claimed to never have, the hope her people have clung to for eons.

Of a world where they could live amongst the people, in peace.

Agathe refuses to have a shred of that hope, but destiny always calls, things set into motion. Whether she liked it or not.

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