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Prompt: Nothing lasts. Nothing is finished. Nothing is perfect.

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Summary
The world spun around her, a chaotic dance that matched the sharp stinging sensation coursing through her body. The aftermath of war. Adrenaline had masked the pain during the fight, but now, as she struggled through the undulating landscape, it could no longer be ignored. Venka's determination had carried her far outside of the Tephe lands, through forests and rivers, pushing her body past its limits, her senses numbed by the urgency of her mission. Ignoring the signals and her body's desperate appeals for rest, Venka remained obstinate and unyielding, failing to grasp the lesson that should have been learned. Rest felt like surrender to her, a luxury she couldn't afford amidst her mounting responsibilities.

A sense of being lost and wasted gnawed at her, intertwining with an undercurrent of paranoia threatening to unravel her further. Despite her unyielding facade, Venka's strength was ebbing away, eroded by her own refusal to pause and heal. Days and hours had blended together, marked only by the steady flow of blood from numerous injuries. It was a silent drain, robbing her of vitality and resolve.

Veering through the dense foliage, a soft grunt escaped her lips, a rare admission of her suffering. The terrain demanded respite, her body begging for a chance to recover from the relentless assault she had subjected it to. But the past war and the shadows of impending danger kept her feet moving. Stubbornness was both her shield and her weakness.

Yet, as she pushed forward, her limbs finally gave in. The ground met her with an unforgiving thud, her jaw jarring against the impact, shoulders absorbing the shock. Vision blurred, consciousness wavered. Fatigue had finally overtaken her, the deluge of thoughts that had crowded her mind now a distant murmur.

The world became a whirl of disjointed sensations, her body rebelling against her iron will. A cold tremor rippled through her, her grip on consciousness slipping. She struggled to fight the encroaching darkness, but her strength was waning, matched only by her frustration. A guttural snarl escaped her lips, a primal sound of defiance.

The taste of blood, unmistakable and metallic, filled her mouth. Unlike the battles she had waged, this taste was her own doing. Muscles twitched, a feeble attempt to rise, to push on. Yet, her body refused to obey, the ground an unwavering captor.

Blinking slowly, she watched as the world dimmed, her breath ragged and labored. The struggle was becoming insurmountable, her consciousness slipping through her grasp. And then, like an echo from another realm, a voice emerged, cutting through the haze.

"My foolish Systur..."

It was a voice from memory, tender and familiar. A voice that wrapped around her like a soothing balm. It beckoned her towards the abyss of slumber, where she was unsure if she would ever reawaken.
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Venka is gonna be in time out for a little while, but its mostly just to give me time to get my plots together and going LOL who could it be such a mystery (not)~ Im very excited to get this plotline going further but I just need to get motivated to complete all the part hehehhe anyway say goodbye to death mom for a little while <3

Systur = Sister

Characters/Art/Writing (c) TheStarvingRaven

Description

Prompt: Nothing lasts. Nothing is finished. Nothing is perfect.

Theme

Previous | Next

-------------------------------------------------------
Summary
The world spun around her, a chaotic dance that matched the sharp stinging sensation coursing through her body. The aftermath of war. Adrenaline had masked the pain during the fight, but now, as she struggled through the undulating landscape, it could no longer be ignored. Venka's determination had carried her far outside of the Tephe lands, through forests and rivers, pushing her body past its limits, her senses numbed by the urgency of her mission. Ignoring the signals and her body's desperate appeals for rest, Venka remained obstinate and unyielding, failing to grasp the lesson that should have been learned. Rest felt like surrender to her, a luxury she couldn't afford amidst her mounting responsibilities.

A sense of being lost and wasted gnawed at her, intertwining with an undercurrent of paranoia threatening to unravel her further. Despite her unyielding facade, Venka's strength was ebbing away, eroded by her own refusal to pause and heal. Days and hours had blended together, marked only by the steady flow of blood from numerous injuries. It was a silent drain, robbing her of vitality and resolve.

Veering through the dense foliage, a soft grunt escaped her lips, a rare admission of her suffering. The terrain demanded respite, her body begging for a chance to recover from the relentless assault she had subjected it to. But the past war and the shadows of impending danger kept her feet moving. Stubbornness was both her shield and her weakness.

Yet, as she pushed forward, her limbs finally gave in. The ground met her with an unforgiving thud, her jaw jarring against the impact, shoulders absorbing the shock. Vision blurred, consciousness wavered. Fatigue had finally overtaken her, the deluge of thoughts that had crowded her mind now a distant murmur.

The world became a whirl of disjointed sensations, her body rebelling against her iron will. A cold tremor rippled through her, her grip on consciousness slipping. She struggled to fight the encroaching darkness, but her strength was waning, matched only by her frustration. A guttural snarl escaped her lips, a primal sound of defiance.

The taste of blood, unmistakable and metallic, filled her mouth. Unlike the battles she had waged, this taste was her own doing. Muscles twitched, a feeble attempt to rise, to push on. Yet, her body refused to obey, the ground an unwavering captor.

Blinking slowly, she watched as the world dimmed, her breath ragged and labored. The struggle was becoming insurmountable, her consciousness slipping through her grasp. And then, like an echo from another realm, a voice emerged, cutting through the haze.

"My foolish Systur..."

It was a voice from memory, tender and familiar. A voice that wrapped around her like a soothing balm. It beckoned her towards the abyss of slumber, where she was unsure if she would ever reawaken.
-------------------------------------------------------
Venka is gonna be in time out for a little while, but its mostly just to give me time to get my plots together and going LOL who could it be such a mystery (not)~ Im very excited to get this plotline going further but I just need to get motivated to complete all the part hehehhe anyway say goodbye to death mom for a little while <3

Systur = Sister

Characters/Art/Writing (c) TheStarvingRaven