Post by Regan Lassiter on Nov 10, 2022 16:05:15 GMT -5
[ For Zarha Sliva ; @warren , @berengar and any other soldiers are welcome ]
The full moon hadn’t made things easier.
She’d been privately and temporarily suspended from her role as Huntsman, and would now spend her days readying Othello for battle. Regan intended to grab this opportunity with both hands—not that she had much choice. Everything was riding on this: her career, her standing with Cassian, the only things that mattered to her on Terra Nova. No more mistakes. She’d promised that to Cassian, and intended to make good on it.
But separation from Cassian made everything harder. Having her alpha close at hand was calming, and reassuring both to her human and wolf forms. Now, too often she found herself adrift without a paddle. The rage would sit in the barrel of her chest like gunpowder, waiting for a spark to ignite it. But if Cassian had taught her one thing, it was that the only cure for anxiety was discipline.
So, Regan came to the training yard. It was a habit that wasn’t altogether new. Chronic insomnia often had her going for her ax. Today, it was Othello that had driven her to the punching bag. Stripped of his gift by the collar, he was being looked after by a pair of very capable guards as Regan took a much-needed evening to herself.
Regan’s fists smacked one after another into the punching bag. Her goal wasn’t to hit hard—far from it. She was trying to teach herself how to resist the temptation of reaching for her supernatural strength. Nobody approached her. She’d had many months of distance from the incident at the training yard—the one where she’d very publicly attacked the king in a fit of supernatural rage. Since then, Regan had gained the king’s confidence and respect from other soldiers had—in most cases—followed.
Still, she remained an enigmatic figure. She was unapproachable at best, frightening at worst. Regan’s eyes were fixed on the punching bag.
One, two, three.