- Jul 25, 2024
- 18
- 2
- 3
The girl had cried until she could hardly breathe, until she'd lapsed into a troubled sleep filled with feverish dreams of a grey - smoked figure just out of reach. And yet, the world continued to cruelly withhold Cotton from her, and the warm care that Lungwortkit had been taunted with so briefly. Fine, world! If Cotton will not come to her, she will go to Cotton. Even if her head feels quite heavy, blood - swollen and waterlogged with mucus and tears—and even if her tiny limbs tremble beneath her, defiantly refusing to cooperate—and even if each inhale is more like a thick, wheezing gasp for breath—well, she will find a way.
She claws her way up from her crumple of mismatched limbs, tiny ivory crescent - claws sinking into the sick - oozing moss of her nest, standing wobbly but determined in the face of the den's enormity. The world is a yawning abyss of cold darkness and sand that makes her nose itch and weird bitter scents, suddenly chilled and cruel in the absence of Cotton—but Lungwortkit can conquer it, she's certain. She takes one step, then two, then three until she has to plop down and sit for a moment while black speckles her vision, clawing hungrily for breath that flees from her like a flurry of deer - limbs—but catch it she does, and she begins her journey anew.
Things look promising—far in the distance, there is a glowing white circle that hurts her eyes. Surely this is where Cotton has gone, and she ventures bravely towards it.
That is, until she bumps into an enormous tree—it's white - limned golden, speckled with blots of red not unlike Lungwortkit's own tabby - wrapped forelimb, and when she tilts her dribbling muzzle upwards, it connects to a vast trunk above her, and even further beyond it, a pair of eyes like two chunks of seaglass. Lungwortkit has begun to notice that other cats aren't like her—they have two eyes that are the same color, like Cotton and the stranger and the other voyagers who visit this herb - scented bastion. Only Wolf is akin to her in the loneliness of his eye—and this cat, too, has a lack, for where Lungwortkit has a trembling white leg ending in a blushed - pink paw, this cat has nothing at all where a paw should reasonably be.
Lungwortkit stares silently up at @SUNSTAR, uncomprehending, and sniffles thickly.
She claws her way up from her crumple of mismatched limbs, tiny ivory crescent - claws sinking into the sick - oozing moss of her nest, standing wobbly but determined in the face of the den's enormity. The world is a yawning abyss of cold darkness and sand that makes her nose itch and weird bitter scents, suddenly chilled and cruel in the absence of Cotton—but Lungwortkit can conquer it, she's certain. She takes one step, then two, then three until she has to plop down and sit for a moment while black speckles her vision, clawing hungrily for breath that flees from her like a flurry of deer - limbs—but catch it she does, and she begins her journey anew.
Things look promising—far in the distance, there is a glowing white circle that hurts her eyes. Surely this is where Cotton has gone, and she ventures bravely towards it.
That is, until she bumps into an enormous tree—it's white - limned golden, speckled with blots of red not unlike Lungwortkit's own tabby - wrapped forelimb, and when she tilts her dribbling muzzle upwards, it connects to a vast trunk above her, and even further beyond it, a pair of eyes like two chunks of seaglass. Lungwortkit has begun to notice that other cats aren't like her—they have two eyes that are the same color, like Cotton and the stranger and the other voyagers who visit this herb - scented bastion. Only Wolf is akin to her in the loneliness of his eye—and this cat, too, has a lack, for where Lungwortkit has a trembling white leg ending in a blushed - pink paw, this cat has nothing at all where a paw should reasonably be.
Lungwortkit stares silently up at @SUNSTAR, uncomprehending, and sniffles thickly.