“The Warrior is deemed personality number 1. This is but a small glimmer into her existence.”
A heavy snow falls on a mountainside. A dense forest grows on this mountain, attempting to hide the beauty from outsiders. Despite the freeze, there are pools of running water. One of these pools leads into a type of cavern, where ice sheets create a roof over the pool. Nobody can tell me what is in that cavern. I have a feeling we do not want to know.
This particular pool stands out from the rest, for it is in a clearing of the trees. Even more so, the creatures that live there protect this pool with their lives. There are at least five or six wolves present at any given time. Where the others wander off to, I couldn’t tell you. But these wolves are loyal guardians of that pool.
The pool is in stark contrast of the vast view of white, for the water is pitch black. How deep it goes? Nobody really knows. No one has ever stepped foot into that pool, because they know what’s in there. There’s a woman. Well. Not so much a woman. More of a goddess. A warrior, if you will. She is only visible when she emerges from the water, but somehow those who approach the pool know she is there. The wolves are not there to protect her. Rather, they are there to protect you. If you even dare approach those wolves, let alone hurt one. Well. What happens next is of your own doing.
If you are dumb enough to harm her wolves, she will come for you. When called upon, she emerges from the depths of the black water that hides her. Her dark hair is sopping, hanging down her back and clinging to her flesh. Her skin is white to the point of translucency, and her eyes are black voids that will haunt your dreams. They sure haunt mine. She is always naked, yet it is not perverse. The water caresses her curves, never revealing more than she intends.
Let’s be clear. She is not hiding from you. Hiding implies fear. Rather, she is waiting for you. She is waiting for you to hurt me. With a small smile playing at her lips, she almost dares you. For once she escapes her pool, there is no stopping her. Her wolves are her warning to you. Come no farther, taunt no more.
Her name is Marishka, for she resides in a pool of bitterness. This is how I picture her. My warrior. My protector. She buries herself in the depths of my soul that wish to reign supreme. But alas, she waits in her pool, and she calls the shadows her home. That is until someone is stupid enough to taunt her. There is always someone stupid enough to taunt her.