11-09-2018, 10:49 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px;"]Upon returning, Cleo had tried to visit her old jungle home, hoping that she would be able to stomach the crushing familiarity of what had once been her permanent residence. She had lasted only about five minutes inside of it before panic - hot and angry - rose in her chest, threatening to suffocate her if she did not leave immediately. She grabbed none of her belongings as she hurried away, wondering what she might have to do to get her hands on a match so that the darkness that dwelled within her once beloved hut was reduced to nothing but ash. A burden would be lifted off of her shoulders if that thing was destroyed and yet, as the crippled bengal finally reached Barracuda Bay, she realized that she would never be strong enough to start that fire.
So she turned to something that she knew wouldn't frighten her: the submarine. Out of the fog that was her memories and her mind, a stark image of she and Silus playing together outside of it rose to greet her. In her frantic state, it was her only solace and it kept her moving, one trembling paw step after the next. She had forsaken the submarine when she began to loathe her family and a part of her wondered whether or not she would be welcome back in. No, she had to be. Broken and haunted as she was, she was still Cleo Roux and she belonged here. This was her home. And even if she had yet to see her father or her beloved brother, and even if Goldie no longer remembered her, she would make things work. She could not crumble ever again.
But while that promise to herself seemed doable, her confidence came and went like the tide, either leaving her feeling full of purpose or with nothing at all. Cleo could not help but feel as as if all the shadows she had collected still lurked underneath her skin, corrupting her from the inside out until she was Eshe's perfect puppet. Sometimes, she wondered if she was still trapped in that dark place, and this... this faux reality was nothing but a rare gift extended to her by her companion- no, captor. Why else would she have found her way back home? Why else would everyone remember her? But the blood that had stained her paws as she ripped Eshe apart had not been fake, and those feelings of delight and enjoyment that arose when she watched the light dim from the snakes had not been some mind trick from Eshe. This was real. All of this was real.
As she entered the submarine, useless leg dragging behind her, Cleo suddenly could entertain the idea of one and only one thing: finding Goldie. They had parted on bad terms (bad on Cleo's part anyways, she had shunned and 'hated' her sister all she could) and that thought, as complex and hard as it was to understand as it faded in and out of her mind, nauseated her. So did the fact that her sister had been taken and tampered with by the Pitt, leaving her as nothing more than an extension of their terrible leader's will. "Goldie?" She'd call out quietly, blinking red eyes a few times. At least the soft lilt of her voice had not changed, a mere murmur on the breeze as she looked around for her sister in the gloom of the submarine. She hoped that she was here- her body could not handle another outing.
[member=48]goldenluxury[/member]
So she turned to something that she knew wouldn't frighten her: the submarine. Out of the fog that was her memories and her mind, a stark image of she and Silus playing together outside of it rose to greet her. In her frantic state, it was her only solace and it kept her moving, one trembling paw step after the next. She had forsaken the submarine when she began to loathe her family and a part of her wondered whether or not she would be welcome back in. No, she had to be. Broken and haunted as she was, she was still Cleo Roux and she belonged here. This was her home. And even if she had yet to see her father or her beloved brother, and even if Goldie no longer remembered her, she would make things work. She could not crumble ever again.
But while that promise to herself seemed doable, her confidence came and went like the tide, either leaving her feeling full of purpose or with nothing at all. Cleo could not help but feel as as if all the shadows she had collected still lurked underneath her skin, corrupting her from the inside out until she was Eshe's perfect puppet. Sometimes, she wondered if she was still trapped in that dark place, and this... this faux reality was nothing but a rare gift extended to her by her companion- no, captor. Why else would she have found her way back home? Why else would everyone remember her? But the blood that had stained her paws as she ripped Eshe apart had not been fake, and those feelings of delight and enjoyment that arose when she watched the light dim from the snakes had not been some mind trick from Eshe. This was real. All of this was real.
As she entered the submarine, useless leg dragging behind her, Cleo suddenly could entertain the idea of one and only one thing: finding Goldie. They had parted on bad terms (bad on Cleo's part anyways, she had shunned and 'hated' her sister all she could) and that thought, as complex and hard as it was to understand as it faded in and out of her mind, nauseated her. So did the fact that her sister had been taken and tampered with by the Pitt, leaving her as nothing more than an extension of their terrible leader's will. "Goldie?" She'd call out quietly, blinking red eyes a few times. At least the soft lilt of her voice had not changed, a mere murmur on the breeze as she looked around for her sister in the gloom of the submarine. She hoped that she was here- her body could not handle another outing.
[member=48]goldenluxury[/member]