[div style="max-width: 360px; font-family: georgia; color: #6b4f56; text-align: left; padding-top: 8px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; font-size: 12px;"]I LEFT THIS EARTH FOR A SPLIT SECOND

Among the ceaseless hum of white noise, gentle and light a crackle, the soft trace of notes without tune or purpose against the curvature of her skull, almost forgotten land and the bounty it held. Almost. There the fine string, a tether which held memories almost buried, beneath the waves that lapped sluggishly at her decaying vessel swallowed. Yet such the cause of the loss as it simultaneously acted as an anchor, sweet those fragments that filled the fleeting gaps as her mind surfaced.

Old wood creaking beneath uneven steps, voices warm among the nest of brightly hued abodes, a treasure held between high stone walls. One she almost deemed her own, a child as she never had, never permitted herself to dream of, close held the rest.

Heart seized, held tight in the foul roots of loneliness. Deep had it been driven, found suitable a home among arteries, pulled at the strings of her heart, an instrument well equipped to play. Always had it been, a seed delicate and withered, pressed down in those days sunlight had been hers, an golden ichor she had grown drunk upon. Now, with it gone, it flourished, beneath a want watered until it seemed her empty was hollowed out and filled with it, a longing that sought no end.

Always was there a conclusion to everything, however, her own remarkable close. Felt the draw, how the tide stirred and the once tranquil lap of the dark depths grew frantic, beat against her craft — if she may truly call it that now as time had striped it back until she could barely be contained on the little left. Swallowed her view by the waves that seemed to grow hungry, aggressive in their wish to fear her away, pry the few nails that still held from their places. It seemed assured as the wood beneath her began to tremble, a creaking groan her only warning, sodden boards splintering beneath the harsh dig of her claws. Poor her balance and needed only a singular wave, this given all too readily, her cry stifled, salt cruel as it flooded her throat, her efforts to be rid of it inviting more. There was nothing but the darkness of the water as it closed over her head, eyes stinging even as she wildly searched for illumination, anything that may hint as to which direction she must go.


There was only salt upon her tongue. Foul the concentrated taste, muscle left numb, fat between teeth that seemed incapable of ceasing a temor. Slow the realisation her body shook with it, tense and aching yet incapable of halting the shiver that traced her spine, involuntary the manner her tail twitched in irregular intervals, engulfed still in the surf. Mind rose, pieces falling together as she coughed, disgust twisting dark features as stomach clenched and rejected the water it still held.

She had fallen, the riptide uncaring as it pulled at her body, still harsh the pull. Ground. The realisation came in a slow trickle that quickened as toes flexed, the pebbles shifting, breathless the harsh laughter that fell from cracked lips that stung, blood and salt water a poor combination. Uncaring was she in that moment, forth reaching, struggle to pull herself from where she lay partially submerged.

Impossible this task, useless the stump that struck weakly at the ground, found no purchase as her paw might, claws tearing deep grooves into the soil beneath the rocky covering. Finally her efforts were given up, left to lay with her back legs still beneath the water, languid the movement of her eyes, exhaustion heavy as she settled. She was so tired, when had she last slept.

© MADI

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"Well that's certainly not what belongs there." For a moment, perhaps because of the pertial submergence and lack of vigor in the woman, Arrow thought she had found a corpse, a body that had floated to shore. Not the case, discovered when she saw the rise and fall of the chest, and switching reactions to the one more properly suited for a potential emergency, hopefully preventing a corpse. She felt a twinge of guilt, the stranger looked so tired and here she was disturbing what rest was given, but sleeping with the surf as a blanket was a terrible idea, she was positive there were actual blankets somewhere in one of the many homes the members of Tanglewood called their own. She might have even had some around. The cheetah took a few steps forward and towards the mountain lion, tip of her long tail twitching in heightened interest. Wasn't every day an entire person washed up. "Sorry to ruin your nap, but I can help ya get somewhere better, maybe get you looked over too."