She didn’t mean for it to happen. She was just a pup. Her mismatched fur — royal blue and sandy brown — whipped in the wind as she and her sister raced to the river. She was behind her older sister, not by much, just a hair. Her sister halted, laughing, sky blue eyes closed. But the momentum of the younger pup carried her further, until her body collided with her sister’s. With a yelp, the sister tumbled into the river. Her gorgeous ice eyes were filled with panic. Hanging on the cliff with one claw, the young pup watched her sister die. And it was her fault. The dreams were relentless. ‘You k!lled me for the throne,’ her sister would seethe. ‘You have no heart.’ ‘Did you ever love me?’ ‘Even in our mother’s belly you concocted evil plans to overthrow me.’ The wolf believed that her sister would’ve never said such things before. She remembered her kind, sky blue eyes, her hearty laugh, the jokes she would murmur to her at random times. But the dreams, the nightmares, clawed at her skull each night. Made her fidgety. Paranoid. Fearful. At last, she decided to visit the old magic healer at the edge of the wood. The old wolf asked her business, watching carefully with ancient green eyes as she explained what she wanted: a way to talk to her sister. The healer shook his head. ‘Fine,’ the young wolf said. ‘Give me something to fight off haunting spirits.’ The healer did give her something this time, a small leaf to burn. ‘It will fight away the long lost wolves who must move on. Beware, however, because it brings out the spirits in the living. In you.’ She did not care for his warnings. She raced back home, lighting it in her room, breathing in the sweet smell. And when she slept, she had no dreams. She should have listened to the healer. It brought out the spirits in her — two very real versions of herself. One, a wolf with a stone heart who had fought past the grief of her sister. Who took the throne after her aunt stepped down and ruled the kingdom with an iron fist. She did not have mismatched fur; her pelt was royal blue, the same as the banners in her kingdom. The second version was the broken one, who mourned her sister every day and wore black in grief. Who was fragile, emotional, could not get a glimpse of happiness. Her fur was sandy and speckled, similar to her sister’s golden brown fur with dark freckles across her nose. And so, every day she was torn between two souls, and never again was she herself. When her aunt stepped down, with no children, she did take the throne. But now the kingdom is full of lost and wandering wolves. She had a name, Pansy, but her name is rarely spoken. Besides, she is never herself. You might talk to the Queen but never speak to Pansy. So that is the story of the poor, unfortunate wolf, cursed by medicine because her heart was stained. The wolf who will forever be pulled one direction and then another. May you find yourself unlike her. ——————— Well… I like writing XD. I saw this design and the story just started unraveling in my brain so I decided to enter! Also spam that flag, the music is a bit laggy. Bio~ Name: Pansy or the Split Queen Pronouns: She/her Sexuality: Aroace Personality: (Royal spirit)- Quiet, demanding, cold, unforgiving (Broken spirit)- skittish, sad, doubtful, weary (Pansy)- Quiet, pleasant, chill, laid-back Other: She often disappears, seemingly into the shadows, and reappears as the other spirit. Only in her dreams does she ever really appear as Pansy.
Art by me Writing by me Music unknown Design by @Dragonrift
