- Jan 12, 2023
- 163
- 57
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the world is white. snow - laden hills of meadowland, the lightning jagged limbs of barren willows snaking black crevices against a haze grey sky. it is silent save for the lulling hush of water against a brittle shore, toes an anemic pale beneath a fine layer of granule sand. her namesake peek like shallow buried remains around alabaster paws, dotting the colorless bay in hues of aged bone, rubbed darker with soil in their cracking faces. they watch her like hollow eyes, she can feel it burning into the lilac ribboning of her pelt, scorching pallid insides around fishbone sharp structure. water trembles along the stretch of river separating her and something she canβt quite see. a shimmering in the distance, tremulous like a star grown unstable she draws to like a moth to blistering death.
she steps closer, feels the uncomfortable lap of water over her paws, fur sleeking to the sharp of her knuckles. it was cold here β colder than normal, too cold for the river water to still be thawed enough for this. it rolls, whispers her name in the brush of sand and ever rippling waves, the outer dark trembling as it had beneath splintering ice. the figure ahead stands in it up to their belly, the halo of blinding light around their form dimming as she grows nearer. she takes another step, another, canβt seem to stop ; water coils around her legs, tendons and sinew bursting translucent pink where the light hits them, no longer protected by the lap of dovey alabaster curls that cradle her ever withered form.
the water whispers to her, or perhaps the figure ahead. the water is lulling at her neck when she finally draws close enough to see ; not their face, but the blue - white of their fur. the whisper of lapping water eases, syllables finding their place above the tangle of letters that urged her into the river. youre gong to freeze out here, come with me.it makes her belly hurt, but the water is heavy. it weighs on her shoulders, pulls her by the coat and the child eases against the beacon, the only semblance of warmth in the darkening water. she touches her nose gently to her shoulder. quickly, she becomes aware that she cannot let go.
she jerks her head back, attempting a stumbling run away but she cant. sheβs stuck β stuck to her mother, whoβs blue fur shades an algae green, eyes watering a shade of rheumy olive and yellow. there is no time to ruminate once the first plunge of icewater bursts into her nostrils. an instinctive sneeze breeches her sinuses β the water reaches around her, loops in tendrils around her to beckon her further forward. she tries to yell but it is nothing more than a billow at her throat, a sudden tightening that she cannot release. her maw opens and water floods the rough surface of her tongue, rivulets down her throat and shes still stuck. pulled deeper, deeper, deeper until the sickly blue lights overhead fade into a murky blackness.
shellkit wakes up choking, a cough that tears at the tender inner throat. a familiarity in her early age β a distant memory of waking alone, pawing at the belly of her momma because the sound couldnβt leave her. she tries to inhale with a near soundless wheeze, a pinhole of breath wisping to her lungs on the end of a failed wail. muted by the pain in her chest, a ball of coiling smoke that has her head tipping back in near reverent desperation. nightmares were hard, and common ; if she calmed down, it would go away, just like it always had.. but once her ribs begin to burn, fear begins to filter through her veins. her head feels funny. bad, stuffy, like sheβd fallen down and hit it. her nose runs, drips and she cannot sniff, cannot catch her breath enough to keep it from dampening her chin in strings of sheening filth. a still - healing paw lifts, suddenly too aware of the dull ache in her limbs and.. why was this happening? a whine leaves her nose, breathless, β moh β β she tries, and fails, rolling over with a mighty heave if only to wake up one of her slumbering siblings, β moh - ma. momma. β because hazecloud said she can do that now, and she was.. afraid. why did it hurt so bad?
she steps closer, feels the uncomfortable lap of water over her paws, fur sleeking to the sharp of her knuckles. it was cold here β colder than normal, too cold for the river water to still be thawed enough for this. it rolls, whispers her name in the brush of sand and ever rippling waves, the outer dark trembling as it had beneath splintering ice. the figure ahead stands in it up to their belly, the halo of blinding light around their form dimming as she grows nearer. she takes another step, another, canβt seem to stop ; water coils around her legs, tendons and sinew bursting translucent pink where the light hits them, no longer protected by the lap of dovey alabaster curls that cradle her ever withered form.
the water whispers to her, or perhaps the figure ahead. the water is lulling at her neck when she finally draws close enough to see ; not their face, but the blue - white of their fur. the whisper of lapping water eases, syllables finding their place above the tangle of letters that urged her into the river. youre gong to freeze out here, come with me.it makes her belly hurt, but the water is heavy. it weighs on her shoulders, pulls her by the coat and the child eases against the beacon, the only semblance of warmth in the darkening water. she touches her nose gently to her shoulder. quickly, she becomes aware that she cannot let go.
she jerks her head back, attempting a stumbling run away but she cant. sheβs stuck β stuck to her mother, whoβs blue fur shades an algae green, eyes watering a shade of rheumy olive and yellow. there is no time to ruminate once the first plunge of icewater bursts into her nostrils. an instinctive sneeze breeches her sinuses β the water reaches around her, loops in tendrils around her to beckon her further forward. she tries to yell but it is nothing more than a billow at her throat, a sudden tightening that she cannot release. her maw opens and water floods the rough surface of her tongue, rivulets down her throat and shes still stuck. pulled deeper, deeper, deeper until the sickly blue lights overhead fade into a murky blackness.
shellkit wakes up choking, a cough that tears at the tender inner throat. a familiarity in her early age β a distant memory of waking alone, pawing at the belly of her momma because the sound couldnβt leave her. she tries to inhale with a near soundless wheeze, a pinhole of breath wisping to her lungs on the end of a failed wail. muted by the pain in her chest, a ball of coiling smoke that has her head tipping back in near reverent desperation. nightmares were hard, and common ; if she calmed down, it would go away, just like it always had.. but once her ribs begin to burn, fear begins to filter through her veins. her head feels funny. bad, stuffy, like sheβd fallen down and hit it. her nose runs, drips and she cannot sniff, cannot catch her breath enough to keep it from dampening her chin in strings of sheening filth. a still - healing paw lifts, suddenly too aware of the dull ache in her limbs and.. why was this happening? a whine leaves her nose, breathless, β moh β β she tries, and fails, rolling over with a mighty heave if only to wake up one of her slumbering siblings, β moh - ma. momma. β because hazecloud said she can do that now, and she was.. afraid. why did it hurt so bad?
πππ ππππ ππππ ππ
ππππππ
πΌ
πππ πππππ ππ πππ ππππ
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i. woke up from a nightmare feeling very bad. trying to wake up @hazecloud or her siblings but if anyone could grab moonpawβ¦. :evil: only the last paragraph is necessary to read
currently very mucusy and choking on her cough, canβt catch her breath / wheezing. woozy bc of it. but sheβs always a little wheezy, so.. hm..
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frail alabaster molly with lilac striping and watery amber eyes..SHELLKIT π SHE / HER, KITTEN OF RIVERCLAN. HAZECLOUD xx LICHENTAIL, NIECE TO SMOKESTAR. FIVE MOONS OLD, SMELLS LIKE SALT & RIVER BLOOMS. PENNED BY ANTLERS.she is pallid ; platinum splotched with ribbons of dovey lilac curls, wisped ends like memories of a distant shore. feather breath and elderdown fur conceals a body worn fragile by tumultuous youth, too thin in some places and round with baby fat in others. her face is short - muzzled, framed half mast by eyes coined rheumy, rosen amber. the anemic pale pink at tender paws and nose tell a lifetime of sickness, obvious by the feathering weakness and crackling in whispery tones
----------Β° β β
