GIVE ME SOME COLOURS [P]

Heading back from the riverbed, the animal-like human walked through the streets alone. Despite the silence of the late afternoon, she was sure that the place was still not one hundred per cent safe. Of course, it would never be completely safe, and she always knew that. She was taking a risk every time she lifted herself off her makeshift bed and headed out onto the streets alone. This human experiment was constantly on shaky ground, each subject threatening to erupt and run rampant through the dome, taking down everyone else with them. It would not be the first case of genocide, as Valeria had learnt her first day in the strange dome. The Bestia had been completely wiped out, or at least the shifters had thought that much. Zephyr was alive, she was their hope, and now the anthropomorphs were resurfacing, ready to take their revenge when the time came.

Valeria walked on the left of the road, along the pathway that carried her beside the single-storey buildings. It wasn’t like there would be cars roaring past, ready to knock her to the ground and crush her. Cars were all but a myth to her now; something she knew had once existed but was beginning to fade from her memory. There were so many things that had been left behind, forgotten in the past, forgotten in a world that had no need for those things. What would they do with cars in the Menagerie? It would certainly make getting from one end of the dome to the other easier, but in the end it wouldn’t help them to escape. No doors on this completely crack proof glass, the anthro thought to herself as she continued to walk on.

Every now and then Valeria would blink very rapidly, her eyes beginning to worry her. She was not even half way back to the safer portion of the Nakoma district, and her eyes were just about ready to give out. If she lost her sight now she would be stranded in the open, barely able to defend herself. Sighing, she stopped walking, bending down to begin untying her bootlaces. Taking off her shoes and socks, she stuck the stained white socks into the boots and tied the laces together, swinging them over her shoulder. Her bare feet rested on the pavement, the roughness no worry for her tough soles. As the world began to blur, Valeria started walking again, her ocelot ears pricked up and alert. She could feel each movement of the wind, and hear things that were nowhere near her. The vibrations underneath her body told her that someone was approaching from her right.

Stopping once more, Valeria turned to the right. Thankfully, the world cleared and she could see down the street; however it seemed to be totally empty. “Hello?” She called, her words tainted by the thick Russian accent. “Vy ne smozhete skryt',” she called out; taking a second to realise that she had not spoken in English. Shaking her head, she took a few steps forward, bringing herself out of the shadow of the building and into the centre of the street. “I know you’re there. Just come out if you’re a Nakoma. That way I know I don’t have to hurt you.” Trying to stay as calm as possible, Valeria willed her heart to stop racing and her hands to stop shaking. She at least managed to hold her voice together, not letting it crack over any of the words, but she only hoped whoever it was didn’t have a tough time deciphering her accent. That was always a more problematic aspect of being a Russian among English speakers. It’ll be fine. They’re probably on your side.

translations; Vy ne smozhete skryt' - You cannot hide.
ooc; sorry for the wait, hope it's alright. let me know if you'd like me to change anything.