Zoo of the Haunted

[Dante Hawthorne]

[Rubella Sims]

The sun stayed warm as Rubella walked along the pavement. Her white heels clicked a clacked as she approached an iron gate, which was opened. Slipping inside she found herself at the zoo and finally finding a piece of shade, lifting her sunglasses that reveal her beautiful bright blue eyes. She walked along the cages as if she was behind the bars herself the growing feeling to find someone to talk to was lurking at her stomach but she tried to ingnore it by looking inside to see what creature lives upon the cell. Twisting at her blonde hair made her frustration grow, as she soon found what she came for she smiled widely."ah wolves what great creature that lives on this earth." her delicate fingers ran along the cage with interest as she saw the creature look up to her in a friendly state.

[Guest]

Delicate inducements cremated across the jilted Domicile, as silence beckoned in dawning aptitude of the decaying Menagerie. Vines trail along the oxidized, speared fence-line, entwining its pristine equity across timeless landscapes – disintegrating into turmoil ferma’s, as thorns spurred from moulded roots. The flickering of old, unmaintenanced light bulbs distinguished across small-creviced pathways, fabricating momentary lighting in fraught minutes. ‘Zoo of the Haunted’ – an out-casted caging for repudiated animals – no life, no connotation, and no hope for sovereignty.

In a foreign reserve, observant occuli’s watched the woman; ashen-hued auditories twitching in antiphon to the Lady’s fingertips rimming along poled-enclosures. The clanking of fragility, and the vestige of spineless dispersals – spoken towards the forefather of this witnessing individual. It seemed almost surreal; having surveyed the Wolf behind bars, and the Femorette outside it, offering friendliness in the most civil manner.

Nadirs were set in alignment to the Vixetta’s serpentine, as its cranial ascended – labrales parted, as its mandibular correlated a menacing snarl from the blunt of its pharnyx. Its pendulum swivelled among the base of its rump, lashing the lithosphere with temptation and ascription, and emblematically noting the stature of the Lady that stood across the yarding. The Wolven Deity examined the activities of this existing female – soon sinking hind-pedates, as to cord a more contented posture in waiting for the woman to produce any distrustful motives.

It would wait in brutal muteness – observing and adjudicating.

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