04-04-2018, 10:48 PM
quiet, so quiet, save for the whistling of the wind and the soft crunch of snow beneath her paws. the young huntress distributes her weight so not to sink down into the snow drifts. it is bitterly cold, icy fingers of the northwind tugging and pulling at her thick, sandy-colored pelt. thankfully, spring is approaching. whatever snow is left will melt soon, and the girl will not have to endure such torture much longer. until then, it is imperative that she reaches her destination: snowbound. the weather is much more harsh up here than the mountainous valley where she has been living ever since she was washed away. but the terrain is not so different. she is not unaccustomed to the cold, but the young girl would definitely prefer to find someplace warm to rest for the night. maybe two nights. the wintry chill is all that keeps her from acknowledging the fatigue which weighs down her body, turning once nimble limbs to lead.
three whole days she has been on the move — with very little respite in between. just a little further, she reminds herself when she begins to think that she cannot climb yet another steep hill. the wildcat did not travel this far, survive this long on her own, to collapse just a few bear-lengths away from her destination. from people. from rest.
what is actually closer to five minutes feels like hours before she reaches the invisible border, identifiable only by the scent markings littering the plains. the girl is smart enough not to cross it, as she has narrowly escaped death several times before for foolishly ignoring the boundaries of another's territory. similar to her earlier reasoning, she has traveled too far to die simply because she made an elementary mistake. as much as her body aches to collapse upon the ground and finally succumb to fatigue, the wildcat wills herself to remain standing, ever vigilant. just because this place has a reputation for being welcoming does not mean that she can let her guard down. "hello?" she calls, voice hoarse from a myriad of factors. she hopes to draw attention to herself and get the niceties over-with before she passes out. "anyone?"
anyone observing the strange adolescent on the border can tell that, regardless of how she carries herself, she is just a child. had she not been lost in the ferocious rapids of the river, she would not have left her mother yet. how she survived this long is a miracle, but it has taken a toll. her pelt is dirty from travel, soaked to the bone by melting snow. her expression is dull, akin to a porcelain doll. there is not even enough energy to properly form an expression. and her eyes, once so vibrant and green, seem to have frozen over from all she has experienced. she is merely a child. all she wants is someone to hold her, to tell her everything will be okay. but that is a weakness that someone can exploit. she refuses to relinquish control. it does not matter if she must combat fatigue, starvation, and dehydration all at once; she will accomplish her goal on her own. help is needed, not wanted.
three whole days she has been on the move — with very little respite in between. just a little further, she reminds herself when she begins to think that she cannot climb yet another steep hill. the wildcat did not travel this far, survive this long on her own, to collapse just a few bear-lengths away from her destination. from people. from rest.
what is actually closer to five minutes feels like hours before she reaches the invisible border, identifiable only by the scent markings littering the plains. the girl is smart enough not to cross it, as she has narrowly escaped death several times before for foolishly ignoring the boundaries of another's territory. similar to her earlier reasoning, she has traveled too far to die simply because she made an elementary mistake. as much as her body aches to collapse upon the ground and finally succumb to fatigue, the wildcat wills herself to remain standing, ever vigilant. just because this place has a reputation for being welcoming does not mean that she can let her guard down. "hello?" she calls, voice hoarse from a myriad of factors. she hopes to draw attention to herself and get the niceties over-with before she passes out. "anyone?"
anyone observing the strange adolescent on the border can tell that, regardless of how she carries herself, she is just a child. had she not been lost in the ferocious rapids of the river, she would not have left her mother yet. how she survived this long is a miracle, but it has taken a toll. her pelt is dirty from travel, soaked to the bone by melting snow. her expression is dull, akin to a porcelain doll. there is not even enough energy to properly form an expression. and her eyes, once so vibrant and green, seem to have frozen over from all she has experienced. she is merely a child. all she wants is someone to hold her, to tell her everything will be okay. but that is a weakness that someone can exploit. she refuses to relinquish control. it does not matter if she must combat fatigue, starvation, and dehydration all at once; she will accomplish her goal on her own. help is needed, not wanted.
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