surrender to the blizzard [solo]

Subject: surrender to the blizzard [solo] Sat Feb 08, 2020 8:31 pm

The darkness before dawn.

It had become a periodic routine. Awakened by not the filtering of luminescent shafts, yet rather by the restless entity within her that clawed at her to wake, she jolted out of slumber. The apprentice's eyes flickered wide, pupils dilating to compensate for the lack of light. The figure was submerged in shadows as her gaze hovered shakily around the woven den. And then, it began. Her heart rate ascended briskly, a rigorous drumming that amplified in her ears. She found herself issuing a wheezing exhale, breath shivery as a cloud accumulated by her maw. As it had been for these past few moons, her mind was instantly engulfed with a swirl of anxieties,

...I've woken too late. I've missed my patrols. I'm the last one to awaken. I haven't done enough. The fresh-kill pile is empty, and it's all my fault. I'm not doing enough. I'm a coward. I'm a failure to RiverClan...

It fueled her compulsive behaviour. Dismal eyes drooping, entire body racked with fatigue from sleep deprivation, she rose with shuddering limbs. The apprentice den was structured for minimal coldness to enter; a woven den sheeted with a layer of warm moss. And yet... she felt no warmth. It was an impossible task. There was no warmth, not within her, not in her surroundings... Leaf-Bare simply extinguished any fuzziness that "warmth" had once brought. Clouds feathered the sky, with their murk obscuring the flaming source of life. Life... there was no life. An illusion.. among many others. What if... everything, was just an image? Holding no truth, just flickers. Flashes of this "life", a "life" that she hated. And as the shades of mink ruled the sky, shadows had began to envelop her insides. Her heart, her mind... had been deprived of all real will. The only thing that kept her going, were those cursed obsessions. She had been lost to the scathing season... and she couldn't allow any others to fall as deep as she had fallen.

She felt useless. All she could do, was muster enough of that feeble strength within her, to keep on going for all those around her.

Just put on a smile, and you'll be alright.

...

I'm lying to myself.

Then the least you can do, is make the others believe you're fine.
Hide all of it deep within you, then nobody will suspect a thing.

After all,
That's what you're best at
...isn't it?

And so, she took her first step into the open.
Beyond what limited safety the den had to offer.

Time had retracted, ticking back, distorting the world around her. The illusion that it was, the illusion of dawn, of dusk. An illusion of time. Days whirled by, like the gusts that racketed throughout the clearing, leaving her more and more withered as each day hurled her to the ground. It was all just a cascade, a flurry of seconds, each one meaningless in this vast void. Sometimes, those seconds whisked by rapidly, denying her with rest as she tried aimlessly to just do it all. Sometimes, those seconds crawled by leisurely, agonisingly... thoroughly enjoying as she writhed restlessly, trying to endure the suffering.

It was all just... meaningless.
Everything she had done, was meaningless.
...
She was meaningless.

...

And yet, that stupid, meaningless voice within her,
Didn't believe that all the feather-brained work it was making her do, was meaningless.

She had to.
She had to keep going.

...She had to keep going

I have to keep going.

It seemed that time wanted to go slowly.
How long had it been since she had left camp?

She had been stumbling forwards. Aimlessly, in the blizzard, with nothing less than the little trust she had put in her own paws to guide her. Muted crunches refused to be heard over the howling of the wind. The she-cat's eyes, hollow, and drained, squinted in a feeble attempt to shield against the sleet.. yet to no avail. Her stumbling turned to staggering, as with each passing second, the gusts seemed to escalate to an increasingly harsher intensity. It felt like ice. Ice was whisking at her pelt. It was trying so hard. It was trying so hard... to knock her down. Her expression contorted in pain, as she felt the wrath of it all.

And then, in a fleeting blink, she was at the river.

...
..
.

Why..?
Why was she here,
again..?

She..
She couldn't remember.

This..
This snow.

She was
dizzy.

...
..
.

Her eyes flickered down.
Not to her paws.
But rather,
to the river.

And
she saw
her reflection.

Her eyes.. were so dull. Were they.. always.. like that..? The reflection's image.. was just.. a shell. A shell, of her.. of her story. Pale. Bleak. Lost.

That was all that was needed to send her over the edge.

A sound. A pitiful, miserable, desolate sound. A whimper, a cry; a choked, strained cough. A wheeze, that rattled her frail limbs, her claws slipping beyond their sheaths involuntarily. That sight, of such a wretched face, was all that she had needed. Her features were creased with anguish, eyes veiled with a glistening glaze. Her eyes were shrouded, misted with haze. A film had completely engulfed her vision, blurring the world around her. It was all just.. a daze. A maze. Everything was a buzz of white. Streaks of white, pelting across her sight. Her breaths were found in laboured rasps, cold numbness obscuring her chest. Shuddering, quivering. Counting the tears as they rolled down her cheeks; a delicate pattern, a soft trickle cascading down, tickling her whiskers as they fell.

One.

...

Two.

...

Three.

...

She watched. She watched with eyes that held their characteristic fatigue, with eyes that had been deprived of their once-determined gleam. She watched, with a gaze that no longer held their youthful glisten - the glisten of her kithood, of her innocent naivety, before everyone had been taken, ripped, lost from her and her life. She watched, as her tears dropped into the river, dissolving into the current, sending ripples as they faded into the perpetual flow. She watched, as the symbol of her misery was swept away, simply melting into the rapids, gone and never known by any other. She watched, as they distorted her image; her reflection within the torrent, the reflection of a cat that she didn't know. A stranger, whose identity had been lost in the ever-changing rapids of time.

She saw the mirrored picture. It was a she-cat, starved and weary, scarred and lost. A cat, whose eyes were dull with tiredness, exhaustion, the aura of pure enervation. A cat who had a tale she didn't want to tell, of a story carved into her mind, of memories that she desperately longed to forget. A cat who the universe had, time and time and time again, struck down with infinite resent. As if everybody and everything... wished she hadn't existed. A cat, whose loved ones had been stripped from, as if everyone that mattered to her, was just a drop in the mist. A cat who no longer held any purpose. A cat who had smiled and twinkled, though with no genuinity, just to make those around her happy. A cat she didn't want to know. A cat she'd been tired of seeing, of feeling... of being.

That cat she saw...
That cat was her.

...
..
.

It was cold...
It was so, so cold.

The blizzard relentlessly whipping at her, slitting at her skin, sent shivers down her spine. Bone-rattling shudders, that shook into this cat, convulses that took control of her without remorse nor regret. Everything was reeling, falling, collapsing. The weight of the stress, those countless solitary "patrols" she had overburdened herself with, the shame of it all, was finally taking its toll. She felt the world, a dizzying mess around her, fall, collapse, onto her delicate, fragile frame. At long last, it had wilted her. This flower, who had been trying so hard to grow.. and now, its petals were falling. It would only have been so long...

Throat crisp with bitter frost, her breaths became harshly rapid. Exhaling felt laborious. The challenge of getting up was strenuous. She curled, one last choked sob emitting from her maw, a feeble and pitiful sound that was lost in the white-out. She allowed the frigid storm to engulf her. Her eyelids flickered shut, the world fading from view. This cruel world, a world that only existed for her to suffer, and suffer, and suffer, had finally won the battle. The snow touched her velvet fur with a sheet of frosty white. As if snow was softly spilled over, coating her in a blanket. And yet, the snow was wicked; ruthless ice that would swallow a life whole. In truth, it was the scathing touch of Leaf-Bare; the incessant swirl of sleet.

She allowed herself to give in to it.

Unforgiving white noise muffling her senses, the darkness finally enveloped her. At last, at long last.

...
..
.

Featherpaw had finally lost control.

______________________________________

⟡ queen of eternal apprentices ⟡
eXCEPT THE CURSE WAS BROKEN WITH ONE (1) GOOD bOY :D

proud og member of the wcc leg cult

surrender to the blizzard [solo] Feather-s-Badge-Signature-20200209122543

:.:|| ic news ||:.:

.:|| Featherpaw ⟡ RC | Smokespirit ⟡ SC | Vixenpaw ⟡ TC ||:.
| 20/80 | 35/90* | 20/80 |
.:|| #292950 | #665f35 | #b02e2e ||:.

*disabled stat reduction; half-blind

Subject: Re: surrender to the blizzard [solo] Sat Feb 08, 2020 8:33 pm

.....
....
...
..
.
.
.

It's cold.
How long... had it been...?

The bleakness had crawled up her throat, prickling it dryly. Remorseless, and sadistic. Frost had clambered up her pelt, encasing the she-cat in silvery fractals. Her fur had become a canvas, stained with frigid, pale shades. She was imprisoned in the grasp of the snow. It was ruthless, callous... sending shivers through her veins. White... everything was white. Howls whipped at her ears, blowing her ice-smeared tufts in the relentless gusts. Her whiskers were quivering, sensitive to the harsh air; trembling, from the sleet that coated them.

She... was silent.
Unmoving.
Frozen.

And yet...
She could see.
She could see...
The blanket of white.
How everything was touched
by Leaf-Bare.

Shards had trickled down the willow's branches. The ethereal tree had been touched, icicles cascading, frozen in their place. The winds played a symphony; resonating tingles emitting from the claws of ice.

But the evil of the season had overpowered their song.

The icicles' tune turned to wailing as the hollering of the wind vanquished their melody. The blizzard swirled, their flurry billowing around her. The season let out woeful cries; deep, echoing howls that split the atmosphere. Leaf-Bare's tears twisted, snow seething, spiralling from the clouds above. All that was heard was the baying of the winds, a sound not unlike white noise, frothing deep within her ears.

Until a strident whistle fractured the air.

A cedar plume descended gracefully, whirling in the winds. And then suddenly, the field of pure white was disturbed. Disturbed, by a single, twirling feather, presented before the barely-conscious apprentice. A feather, whose only source could have been...

A shadow engulfed her in murk.

The eagle was poised to strike.

Maybe, she had heard its piercing cry.
Maybe, her mind had registered the reverbrating whoosh, thundering above.
Maybe, her eyelids had flickered, briefly awakened from her reeling trance.

...
..
.

But...

Featherpaw had already surrendered to the blizzard.

______________________________________

⟡ queen of eternal apprentices ⟡
eXCEPT THE CURSE WAS BROKEN WITH ONE (1) GOOD bOY :D

proud og member of the wcc leg cult

:.:|| ic news ||:.:

.:|| Featherpaw ⟡ RC | Smokespirit ⟡ SC | Vixenpaw ⟡ TC ||:.
| 20/80 | 35/90* | 20/80 |
.:|| #292950 | #665f35 | #b02e2e ||:.

*disabled stat reduction; half-blind