Roach

Fist Glance

Roach is small and lanky. Dirty and scrawny. She knows the streets, lives there. But it ain't weakness. Not to her. It's freedom. No doors, no walls. The sky overhead...that's paradise.

Follow the trail far enough,

You'll find Willa.

A sad girl in and out of therapy all her life. Permanently institutionalized at fifteen, disappearing shortly after an 'incident' at the asylum, where most everyone was violently murdered.

Dig a little deeper,

You'll know that while Luna hid her face from Willa, she was harassed by spirits all her life. Her parents were understanding, at first. It was a phase, she'd grow out of it, and when she didn't. They washed their hands of her.

Years she spent in confinement believing she was crazy. Years she was held helpless and meek. Until she just couldn't do it anymore.

This is when she Changed when the orderlies were attempting to put her into solitary confinement, again. She tore them apart, and any one else that her claws and fangs found as she fled.

She would run and run and find an epicentre of misery and rot. It's what was keeping her, and everyone else here crazy. Willa tore that apart too.

Fast forward, just little,

The Fear of the Dark Rite. The barrier that separated Willa from claiming herself the Daughter of Winter Wolf. It scared her more then anything. She was to be blindfolded and dragged into Shadow, some distance from her pack's territory. No one would tell her how far, and to this day she still doesn't know. To pass, all she had to do was make it back, with that blindfold still on.

Which she did. Raging and screaming on the inside, terrified out of her mind, but she did it.

It was just like closing her eyes, just like being tied down in the asylum and having the Spirits claw and tear. It healed something in her, she thinks. She hopes.