The haunting sound of a distant call radiates through my dying auds. Inwardly, I fight with myself to open my weary eyes and answer the call. This has been the first time I have been able to sleep in day, perhaps weeks. The sickness and the pain has prevented me from resting for long, and I have tried to remain on the move in the hopes of stumbling across an injured bunny or perhaps the remains of another's forgotten meal. It's source is that of another wolf, and adult. A liar. They all are anyways. They try to convince you they only wish for the best but it is all lies. Those who wish the best for you do not sit by and watch idly as your soul withers away and your sibling tears you apart. This is not love, this is betrayal. They expect you to stick around and accept the fate that they birthed you into. Claiming it can only make you tougher, stronger. But there are other ways to become strong. And that is not one of them.
I continue to lay still for a minute, I know I should just accept my fate. Death by starvation and infection, what a way to go. How could I have been so naive? But there was no way I could have remained with them, the liars. I should have thought of my lack of hunting knowledge, of the fact that I am nothing special, just a pathetic young wolf, with nothing to offer anyone. It wouldn't have made a difference either way though. I allow a shaky, painful sigh to rack my body. Finally prying my striking baby blues open I blink away the blinding light of day. I quickly come to realize the call my confused auds had picked up had most likely been my mind playing games. I lay spread eagled on the dirt trodden ground, my dainty dark gray skull lying flat. I try to breathe at a normal pace, forcing oxygen into my restricted lungs. The ground feels hard against my exposed joints and bones. Only a thin layer of skin and dull fur separates that of the earth from my failing organs. My body trembles with the effort of living. I tried many times to no avail to catch a small squirrel or mouse, but they had all easily escaped my clutches. I am to noisy, clumsy, hopeless. Laying here, knowing full well that there is most likely another life not far away ignites a fire in the pit of my soul. Not quite the will to live, but the will to make it a few feet further and then allow fate to take over.
With immense effort I attempt to gather my twig-like deep gray limbs beneath my withering bodice. The movement causes bright white spots to dance across my vision. I feel sick, and dizzy as I strain every measly muscle in an effort to lift myself to my feet. I spread my legs in an attempt to steady my swaying skeleton, shaking violently and already panting. My icy orbs are weary and defeated as they gaze helplessly in the direction from which the dream alpha's call had emerged. I let out yet another trembling sigh, pain and exhaustion coursing through my veins, and begin my depressing walk in a make believe direction.
Not soon enough, I find the clearing in which there appear to be figures sitting, I cannot pick up a lupine scent, nor sense a living presence, but the dark figures must be wolves. My vision is plagued with bright spots, making it incredibly challenging to see, I am able to decipher a shadowy, large figure, and possibly a couple more but I am not entirely sure. For all I know I am simply hallucinating again. I stumble forward through the brush, tripping over nothing, every stick-like limb shaking from effort. My breath has become increasingly raspy , uneven. My baby blues search desperately through their fog for the imaginary alpha's figure, landing my gaze at the center of the clearing. I take one more shaky step forward before exhaustion suddenly pours over my frail frame like a tidal wave. I cringe at the sudden overwhelming feeling, using all my strength to stay on my feet long enough to let the whisper roll off my tongue
"Can... can you point me... in the direction.... of the rabbit hole?"
Darkness takes hold now like a ravenous leech and all at once the earth is in my face, sending a puff of dust around my fallen self. Little do I realize that these wolves before me are trees and stones, and I am left once again alone to rot away.
((OOC:hope this works :) need me to change anything let me know))
Cheshire
Speak gently; ’tis a little thing
Dropped in the heart’s deep well;
The good, the joy, that it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.
Female || Lone || Young Teen
Photo and Table by Pompeii
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