Smoke weaved around Ruth, twisting and binding like a snake. The air was hard to breathe through, as it was heavy with the smell of fake plastics and heavy smoke. The lights shimmered down at the reapees. When hitting her pelt, it made Ruth’s pelt give a warm red glow. The rich green and the gold complimented her fur excellently. Her stylist had chosen it, though she’d made it her own. She messed with her sleeves, ripping them to give a dramatic flair, and for comfort. The serpents were intertwined on her jacket. Behind the curtain, she could hear the cheer of the crowds, awaiting for her presence and debut. The crowds were here to bet on them. To see which one makes it till the end. Available for the world to see and ponder at. Like a zoo animal. The tightness around her heart was sickening. Her legs and paws felt airy, as if she was floating. And even with her being used to the cold, and the frivolous gown she was wearing, she was a freezing. A nervous habit if you will. But none of that matters. It didn’t matter if she was comfortable, happy, or liked the attention. It didn’t matter she felt horrendous, and cold, and sick. No. She looked perfect. She was perfect. She needed to look perfect. She’d mastered the look of the rich by now. Setting her shoulders back, and puffing out her chest. A smile, that looked humble, yet confident. With a slightly tipped up chin, and wide, but relaxed eyes. The type that allured you in. They were a piece of art work. On display to mesmerize the world. Yet Ruth knew. Inside she new she was a counterfeit. A fake. All an allusion. Too bad. Ruth took a small breath. Then stepped out, striding in to the stage with her practiced look. She was going to fake it till they made it. Or ya know, until the others found out.
Why am I genuinely proud of this- @c-horses for the design of Ruth!
