FELIKS — SNOWBOUND
III. SNOW - YOU'RE AS COLD AS ICE
Snow wasn't that special to Feliks. Born in Northeastern Europe close to unforgiving borders, by the time the male's eyes had developed he had already been engulfed with visions of pearly white flakes falling against the ground. There were often times that he'd sit out near the entrance of his den, underneath that hollowed out trunk in a fox-sized hole watching the snow trickle down. One time he had stuck his nose out of the den, and a bitter little chill had tickled the tip of his nostril. He'd sneezed, woken up his sisters and didn't hear the end of the bitchiness for months. Mama, Feliks is too loud the one had cried. Mama, tell him off for leaving the den the other cooed like a spoiled aristocrat, and though their sabotage hadn't been appreciated at the time, Feliks still missed them. He'd never got to say goodbye, were they even alive today? The griffon wished he knew some days, as to prevent another one of life's questions grating at his overactive mind.
As his leathery feet crushed the flush underneath him, nostalgia of those easier times refused to enter his mind. It had been so long, Feliks' sentiment had all but disappeared alongside his old life. Memories of old are toxic, he told himself. Dad wasn't happy with you being flamboyant, you shouldn't ever dream of going back there. Reflective underneath layers of snark and attitude, flashbacks of the times when he was stuck in his first winter did not arrive. Their were brief times when looking down at the alabaster ground when he was reminded of his first stint as leader of a pack, but it did nothing to quell the growing irritation within him at the weather that harassed his strained bones. "All of you are traitors... Fucking traitors... Fucking traitors..." his strung out the curses, one after another as his talons sunk further into the earth. He'd picked Snowbound as residence as a way to remind himself of a time where he hadn't been ostracized by those he cared about, but he'd seen that same scorn at his joining.
Snow was bad news, it seemed. Cryophobia was not an option in the griffin's mind, there were more important things to be terrified of than the cold, but his experiences certainly left him wary of such things every now and again. Every time he limped in the rough winter conditions, he was reminded of a time in winter when he was savagely attacked. When seeing a lovey dovey couple, he was reminded of a time where he had his heart shattered into a million pieces tenfold. Winter seemed to truly be a bitch to the male, but he wasn't shallow enough to blame the season for all of his misgivings. After all, he'd much rather endure bad nostalgia than be forced to walk an eternity in the smoldering desert heat - now that would be too much pain to handle. Ear tufts flickering as the wings started to pick up, Feliks gave a quick turn of his head before trotting off, clearly wanting to get some shelter before the snow picked up a little too much for his liking.
© MADI
WHERE SECRETS LIE IN THE BORDER FIRES
———————「 typhoon / [color=black]tags / griffon / @ PYRO 」 ———————