Damita’s dreams were not so tranquil, instead leaving her feeling as though she was dead inside – not a pretty feeling, even when one isn’t away for it.<br/><br/><em>The carriage was overturned, the horse’s muscles quivering as they brayed loudly, dying ever so slowly. It was a battleground, carnage everywhere, blood split upon the dusty road. She wandered amongst it all, dodging bullets as one side shot at the other, panic filling her chest. “Papa?” She queried in a small, scared voice; breaths coming in short panicked pants. “Angie? Carol?” She called for her sisters, looking frantically amongst the dead and dying – She was eight, lost, separated from her family as the war between rivals raged on all around her, heedless of the small dark haired girl that wandered amongst them. Suddenly she was airborne, someone overtop of her as the sound of a rival going off shattered her thoughts, pain blossoming from where she’d hit her head on the ground. Blood streamed down her forehead in a small rivulet, her fingers touching that red liquid before she looked at her hand, a cry leaving her lips before everything went black…</em><br/><br/>Damita woke from a dead sleep, sitting straight up, the fur pooling around her waist. Exposed breasts heaved as she sought to take a deep breath, eyes wild as she looked around, confused for the moment of where she was. It took a few moments for the cobwebs to clear her mind before she remembered where she was, confused cinnamon gaze darting around. “Toho?” She arched a brow, realizing that he was gone, having left her to sleep. A sigh was given from between parted lips, hands settling in her lap as a morose look was given to the entrance of the tent, Damita oblivious to the fact that someone could come in at any moment or was perhaps already in her presence.<br/>