- May 5, 2023
- 541
- 228
- 43
When one exhaustion - bruised celadon eye cracks open today, there's instantly the sense that, yes, something is different. The hazy fog of drowsiness clears as if slashed by a great spread - clawed paw, and the tabby lays in her nest, ears twitching nervously, and takes inventory. There is no immediate familiarity of a sudden pain, or the feeling of warm blood clotting the well - worn moss of her nest, including the faded scrap that still, ever so faintly, breathes of elderberries like the last dregs of dawn mist burning off in the greenleaf heat. The den is as it always is—fragrant of pine and moss, the first glows of sunrise just beginning to creep into the entrance and reach gentle paws over the many sleeping bodies.
It's when she moves that she finally figures out what the off feeling is—in the form of an abrupt searing of fire down her shoulders as she pulls herself upright, eliciting a muffled hiss from the tabby warrior. It's a deep - seated ache, the type she would normally luxuriate in as the sign of a day's hard work, but multiplied by a hundred. It's practically a slap in the face that it would almost be a good thing if not for the sudden intensity, the brutalizing newness of the pain; the kind of screaming burn she hasn't felt since perhaps her first days as a warrior—nearly a full turn of the seasons ago—and even then it hadn't been quite this bad.
" Ow, " she grouses like a grumpy elder as she manages to navigate around sleeping bodies and hobble out into camp, each step sending a fresh brand of flame through long - unused muscles. It's a vicious reminder of how long she'd been in the nursery, how many moons had been spent near - sedentary in her nest; the vengeance of a week of work catching up to her with inferno - licked claws. Stars above, she'd forgotten the cruel speed with which the body could weaken, and she's not quite stupid enough to ignore that working through the brittle nature of her motions for the last quarter - moon had perhaps not been the best idea. The acknowledgement doesn't make it hurt any less, though—if anything, the pain ripping down the overwound muscle of her back is worsened by her heightened awareness that she's not quite in the shape she was before ( and that it's mostly her own fault ).
" Ow, ow, ow, ow . . . " the warrior repeats half - breathlessly as one paw attempts to press into her shoulder and ease the ache. Mistake. " Ow—! "
// Nothing serious, just run - of - the - mill muscle soreness from overworking & trying to go back to full capacity after six - plus months of being sedentary, LOL.
It's when she moves that she finally figures out what the off feeling is—in the form of an abrupt searing of fire down her shoulders as she pulls herself upright, eliciting a muffled hiss from the tabby warrior. It's a deep - seated ache, the type she would normally luxuriate in as the sign of a day's hard work, but multiplied by a hundred. It's practically a slap in the face that it would almost be a good thing if not for the sudden intensity, the brutalizing newness of the pain; the kind of screaming burn she hasn't felt since perhaps her first days as a warrior—nearly a full turn of the seasons ago—and even then it hadn't been quite this bad.
" Ow, " she grouses like a grumpy elder as she manages to navigate around sleeping bodies and hobble out into camp, each step sending a fresh brand of flame through long - unused muscles. It's a vicious reminder of how long she'd been in the nursery, how many moons had been spent near - sedentary in her nest; the vengeance of a week of work catching up to her with inferno - licked claws. Stars above, she'd forgotten the cruel speed with which the body could weaken, and she's not quite stupid enough to ignore that working through the brittle nature of her motions for the last quarter - moon had perhaps not been the best idea. The acknowledgement doesn't make it hurt any less, though—if anything, the pain ripping down the overwound muscle of her back is worsened by her heightened awareness that she's not quite in the shape she was before ( and that it's mostly her own fault ).
" Ow, ow, ow, ow . . . " the warrior repeats half - breathlessly as one paw attempts to press into her shoulder and ease the ache. Mistake. " Ow—! "
// Nothing serious, just run - of - the - mill muscle soreness from overworking & trying to go back to full capacity after six - plus months of being sedentary, LOL.
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