( cat scratch fever / open )

[SUITEKIT.]

THE TELLTALE HEART

I never learned to trust a love song
[size=9px]( cream tabby ; two months ; typhoon minnow )
It was not because the words were trite[/SIZE]

A safe harbour located within depths fraught with choppy waves, a brewing storm warded off with the simple gesture of unfettered kindness. Beneath surface it had arisen in kind, storm a make its own the bubbling accumulation, rage burning and laid against soft, clumsy tongue. Many the attempts staged to dispel, reassurance that whereabouts many be located for grand may seem the archipelago to young eyes but memorised those shores by inhabitants.

They never were able to locate her. Various factors impeded the search, recall a delicate glasswork cracking beneath gentle queries, the days gathering into a tater patchwork as hope dwindled.

It was a frightful night when their cries arose among broken sobs, clung to and pushed away the comfort offered in equal measure, always gentle even as the tiny claws had cut at flesh. Fitful the poor rest, how they coiled against her, terrified and at once soothed by the thunder her heart made with each strong beat. Another, more tentative, cocooned in their warmth until exhaustion drew disquieted mind into darkness.

Impossible to understand, placed within knowable context mind so youth and inexperienced may make sense of, all that was known the ache that pulsed with each fluttering beat. Sharp the manner in which they roused, held in cradle where arms joined, careful distance between for choice was theirs if such contact was to be initiated. Frightful the wide eyes that swept over visages smoothed by slumber, familiar in an abstract, disjointed manner, known as welcome were they in forgein home. Lengthy the action of untangling themself, scrawled across pale lips a grimace as ears settled against skull.

Their nerves slightly soothed with the lack of movement they ventured forth, hesitation briefly halting them upon edge. No further might they go if not conquered the simple incline, along sides paws sliding. Those who said cats always land on their feet got it wrong. There is no grace in what is more fall than jump, hard the contact where stomach met floor, momentary their lounging in such an awkward position. Fabric dragging over fine strands, a grating sound but one at least of minor assistance, clumsy the steps drawing them through shared abode.

Brine. Heavy that which tainted each hastily drawn intake, cruel as it scraped along throat, settled among flesh and blood with a dwindling sting. In wake open lay door, rousing assured with the manner it had been hastily thrown open, thoughts only on escape. From what. Mind reeled at such, an unknown that it grappled with yet bore only a futile stake against, resolve breaking apart as the realisation bloomed with crimson soaked petals.

If she were truly gone, swallowed along foliage grown dense and wild or beneath the waves slipped alone were they, lost and adrift in a sea they knew nothing of.

Collapse was marked by broken, pitiful little sounds, each tear harshly rubbed away. Unbeknownst how claws tugged at delicate flesh, ribbons cheeks grown painful with the mingling of blood and tears into one, choked the single word filtered through chattering teeth. "Mama."

code by Reggan