the lived life is living death - tinsel hats

[fulzanin]

[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]If someone were to ask Feza where she had lived before Tanglewood, she would laugh and say it was unimportant. It wasn't important, the past. It really only mattered what was in the present. In the present, at the current time, the mutated feline was growing quite exhausted. Seven hours had been spent on her latest project. Seven hours of finding tinsel around the party store that had become her home. She had been unravelling the tinsel and rewrapping such around strings of crepe paper. She hadn't finished one of the hats yet. Not a single one. They really looked more like bands than hats, and Feza was happy to lower her standards and say that they were necklaces or hats.

Tiredness had taken hold. Her wings were hanging by her sides, and her eyes continued to drift shut. The snow leopard desperately wanted to finish this one necklace, but she was failing to keep her paws and claws in the position needed to continue her work. A soft hum sounded, and her blue gaze drifted to the side. Feza reached and took her kazoo, giving such a quiet toot before setting it down. She felt like the noise would renew her strength, and help her to stay awake. She was so close! She just needed a little bit more energy to finish this necklace..headband..thing. Whatever it truly was, well, Feza assumed that it could just be up to whoever took them.

Doubt flickered in her mind. Who would want a gift from her? Who wanted anything to do with her? Who cared in the slightest about her? The snow leopard's teeth grit together. A shake of her head was given to try to shake the thoughts away. They'd been plaguing her a lot recently- dastardly dark thoughts that had no place in her vibrant, ever happy mind. Feza sat back, her blue gaze moving from the project over to one of the nearby cardboard boxes. A crude face had been scribbled on such in deep blue marker. "Yes, Boxy, you can give this one the stamp of approval once it's done. It's not done yet though." She muttered. The cardboard box didn't respond. Of course they didn't. They were godly, and she was a mere mortal that was allowed to be in their presence.

Slowly Feza let her head rest against the cool tile floor. She didn't really have a bed. That had been deemed of least importance when she had began moving things around, exploring her new home. A party store, run down, but filled to the brim with all the party supplies she could dream of. Feza didn't think a place like this would have a bed for her to use, and so the snow leopard hadn't bothered to look. In comparison to the boggy swamp outside, Feza deeply relished the cold tiles of the floor. Her blue eyes sank shut for a moment, before she grumbled. No, no, she had work to do! She had to get up! Feathered wings smacked roughly against the floor, the snow leopard trying to heave to her feet. It was to no avail, and the snow leopard fell into slumber.

The life before had been a strange one. Instead of a swamp, instead of many houses to choose to live in, there was only one house. A run down mansion near a cemetery. There was a constant fog, a constant scream on the wind. The building was old, and the origins for it's existence had long since been unknown. And Feza lived there. Amidst the doom, the sadness, the anti-clan, the vibrant snow leopard made her home. She had a room, and she painted the walls whatever color she desired. Usually blue. She hosted parties, using cardboard boxes as tables. What a disrespectful act, Feza noted in that strange manner that one could think while asleep and dreaming.

She had power, too. She was the deputy. One of the two of them. There was a calico feline that helped her rule, a calico feline that did not like Feza's antics. In her mind, Feza did not have what it took to have a high position of power: she didn't deserve a single thing. Too loud. Too annoying. Too colorful. The calico had tried to convince the leader numerous times of how Feza was not cut for the task. She would ruin everything that we are, the common argument was. The leader hadn't cared, if anything he silenced her only because of how frequent the complaints were.

In dreams, Feza felt the slightest bit of jealousy. An older her, a more experienced party thrower: people actually showed up. People actually liked her. People admired her. People liked her. It was thrilling, and it made her somewhat forget how it was a dream. She could turn from a pink and blue feline to a small dragon. She teleported and phased through walls and conjured up potatoes and flew about, throwing them at her clanmates. Loved. Appreciated. She wished she had that currently. Feza wanted that sort of power: maybe if she had all of that, maybe she would be loved and appreciated and deemed a friend by the waking world. That was her deepest desire, truly.

"So he just..left," the calico said, staring at the pink feline before her. She tugged at the scarf that was tightly bound around a leg, and her scarred face was scrunched up.

"Yea, the same way that Remi left," Feza answered. Her voice sounded higher, which confused her. Did she always sound this high pitched, this squeaky? "He said that we needed to duel for, for who's gonna lead."

The other deputy's face scrunched up in anger. "Seriously?!" She spat. Her head threw back, and an angered yowl sounded. "Because that's totally fair!" Her claws slid from their sheathes, and her ears flattened against her head. Feza was bigger, but recoiled nonetheless. She recognized the calico's tone as 'sarcasm'. What a strange tone. Feza wasn't sure if she'd ever used it before.

"I don't..I don't understand what's not fair about it."

"You don't." The calico deadpanned. Her body was cream in color, with orange eyes that burned like the sun. Her gaze had always been unsettling to Feza. More so recently. Before she had been deputy, when there was an imbalance of power, the gaze had almost seemed to pity the vibrant snow leopard. Feza couldn't grasp it. She couldn't grasp someone pitying her mindset in the same way that she couldn't grasp how annoying her party throwing could be.

"No..? Why wouldn't it be fair?"

The calico moved closer, and Feza could feel searing hot breath against her face. "Gee, I don't know Feza. You have every single fucking power known to the current existence! Don't get me started on how you use that for parties and only parties! It's not a fair fight, it's..." Then, she trailed off, and her snarl deflated. "Actually, you know what? I'll stay deputy. You be leader. We don't have to fight about such a..trivial thing, right?"

Maybe she should have questioned that sudden change in demeanor more.

Feza blinked her eyes rapidly, but wasn't about to question the other's demeanor. It was a dream, right? It didn't matter if she asked or not. The change of power was smooth, and Feza became leader of the dull mansion in the cemetery. Parties, she tried to throw a party for their allies near immediately. A nice party where they told ghost stories around a fire. Feza considered it to be her most calm idea yet. Three days as leader, four, and then five. Her deputy was quiet, and Feza seldom saw her. It didn't matter though, did it? She was doing everything that she could to make life the most fun that it possibly could be in their environment.

And then one day, she woke up, and no one was there. It had been the day Feza had decided she would do her first ever meeting as leader. It was going to be thrilling. She had felt it deep within her fur. She checked every single room- even that strange basement that had appeared just as the old leader had left. The prisoners they had were gone too. It had befuddled her, and she had begun to roam the hallways. Alone. There was a month that went past, which flew past speedily in a dream. Yet it conveyed the spreading and crippling sensation of loneliness. Why had they all left her here? Wasn't she the leader? Shouldn't she have been the one to do such a thing? A month went, and Feza quietly tooted her kazoo while she remained alone in the giant mansion.

She went outside one day, a month after everyone disappeared. Feza was saddened by the sight that no one was present on the territory. No one was there but a lion, with claws tipped in some strange green substance. Never had the festive snow leopard seen said person before, and it brought her curiosity forward with bounds. Loneliness meant that her hesitation was minimal, her wings pressing close as she dove down and landed a few paces away. Feza hadn't been sure what the lion had wanted, and had been cautious to approach. They hadn't moved, not until Feza was close enough. Teeth ensnared her neck. She was thrown to the ground, she felt something in her snap. Screaming, she wailed out. The wails didn't last long. Claws raked across her pelt, staining the pink and blue fur with her red blood. Her wings spasmed, trying to pry herself away from the larger feline. It was to no avail, and her struggles began to fade. Ears ringing, Feza could only barely hear the words of the lion as the predator leaned closer to struggling vibrant prey.

"Idiots like you, idiots that use all that power for such foolish bullshit shouldn't get to live."

With the last of her strength, Feza clawed desperately in some attempt to free herself. She awoke with a start, breathing heavy, finding her paws tangled in tinsel. The necklace, the headband, that had almost been done was now in tatters. Her claws were unsheathed, and she could hear birds chirping outside. She stumbled into a stand, taking deep breathes. Her lungs ached as if she had been suffocating. Her gaze lowered and remained on her destroyed project. She would have to start over, almost from scratch.

"I'm fine, Boxy," Feza said to the cardboard box. She flipped it over so it looked like it was concerned. "Yea! I'm all good. Don't worry about silly little me," she added on. Yet her heart felt sunk, and she felt absolutely exhausted. The snow leopard was glad that she wasn't about to fall asleep anymore. That was the slightest improvement the nightmare of loneliness and death had brought her. Feza wished that it hadn't seemed so real though.

Feza slumped, and slowly moved to grab another batch of tinsel to restart her work, still feeling as if the teeth of a lion were sunk deep into her neck. She carried her tools to sit on the porch, and resumed her work, wanting to feel the warmth of the sun against her fur. She breathed heavy, and her wide blue eyes were still filled with absolute fear. Her movements were jagged and shaky, but the mutated feline pressed on. No one else would if she didn't.

//tl;dr feza is making tinsel hats, falls asleep, has a funny little nightmare and goes outside remake said tinsel hat.

[toboggan]

For Feza's sake, Leroy's enfeebled condition was nothing short of a blessing. The male's eyes were on their last legs, and by this point, utterly refused to register vivid colours. Marginally impaired by the stroke that rocked his system back when the leaves were only beginning to grow, the male's eyesight deteriorated at a heightened pace over time. His eyes were always fucked - even before the stroke, they couldn't identify screens - but now, recognizing the outline of an object was somewhat a challenge to manage. Hues, tints, and shades were much dimmer than they were in days of yore, and with each waking morning, the universe felt much more black and white. Currently, only a meager amount of time sat between now and a world that looked like it belonged to a noir flick. It wrenched his heart, having to watch all colour languidly squander from nature. Painful for him, but great news for Feza.

Her eloquent pelt, radiant in hue and intensity. A rather easy target for mocking remarks. And when it came to mocking remarks, Leroy saw himself as king. Crow was a pansy. Beck was a spookshit. Wormwood was... well, Wormwood was Wormwood. Had his vision not been as faulty as it was, then it was safe to assume that the snow panther would only become yet another victim to the canine's tormenting. Other Tanglers regarded her coat as a spectacle to one's eyes, but to Leroy's, the femme possessed no outlandish quantities whatsoever. The colours were an eccentric palette, that he could agree on, though Feza's fur strayed far from eyesore territory.

Threadbare tinsel lay scattered across the ground, amidst disheveled heaps of other hatmaking supplies. A peppy feline, whose heavy facial features sang a song of drowsiness. The mongrel came across the scene unintentionally.

"What've you been gettin' up to in here?" he asks. Having not interacted with her before, he possessed no idea on where to go from there. Did she usually act in such a reckless manner? 

[wormwood.]

[glow=#000,1,400]MY MAMA SAID THAT I'M NOT LIVING RIGHT. YOU RAISED A LION, MAMA, I AIN'T LYING, MAMA — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

It was almost a sort of cruel irony that the one to have killed Feza in her life before Tanglewood had been a lion, considering by far her most strained relationship that she had at the moment was the one she had with Wormwood. While the former prince would by no means say that he absolutely hated Feza, since there were very few people he legitimately hated in the world, and Feza had done nothing to have him harbor that much wrath towards her. Thus far the only two people to have the title of hated in his mind were Jervis and Judith, and Feza was far from having done anything as heinous as either of them had done to him or the ones that he loved. No, rather, he would probably just classify Feza as an annoyance in his life. He couldn't legitimately say that he was a fan of her, in any sense of the word, but he certainly didn't wish for her to be harmed, and he didn't want to be part of the reason that she was in her current depressive mindset, even though in the back of his mind he knew that he probably was. After all, when she had last tried one of her little stunts by hanging up those godawful wind chimes everywhere, he had yelled fiercely at her, torn up one of the wind chimes, and had then retired back into his home without so much as an apology. He had regretted it later, but in the moment it had seemed like the right thing to do, since a feeling of great anger had been surging through his veins at the time.

Perhaps the thing that truly infuriated him about Feza was her willingness to smile in the face of everything that had happened to Tanglewood lately. Truthfully that was probably a plus – having someone with such a nature that they could be so focused on happiness even in the face of so much pain – but he regarded her with a sort of bitterness. While he was suffering and wallowing in his worry and his guilt and his pain, Feza had been hopping around everywhere, putting up horrible little self made contraptions that clanged together so loudly that it hurt his relatively small ears. She claimed that the things she did were to make others smile alongside her, but Wormwood never really found that any of her ventures were anything to smile about. Rather than that, he saw them as useless little distractions – desperate attempts to distract from the very real issues that had been plaguing them lately. Ultimately he was sort of right, but Feza's intentions were much more pure than the lion would probably ever realize. She wasn't trying to minimize the tragedies that had taken place or were still taking place, she was just trying to make it so that they didn't all decided to simultaneously jump off of a cliff because of the angst that permeated the entire swamp group known as Tanglewood. If he ever did finally come to the realization of the true reasons behind her antics... well, he probably still wouldnt like them very much, but he wouldnt be nearly as harsh and unforgiving when it came to confronting her about them.

If he had known about her past, and everything that had ultimately ended up happening to her, he probably would've felt a much stronger sense of guilt, and probably would feel a great deal of sympathy for her. He knew what it felt like to have everyone around you in a group you thought were your friends turn their backs on you or hurt you. After all, he had been born into a pride that he had thought would love and protect him as he grew into adulthood, but ultimately all that group had done was burt him both mentally and emotionally, and made it so that he desperately tried to cling onto those that actually seemed to care about him. Ironically, it did seem as though Feza was one of the several that did care about him, even if he didn't truly realize it. Sure, Feza constantly pulled her little stunts for the good of the whole group, but she also exclusively focused on him when he came stomping along to brush out the flames of her fun, and she seemed quite enthusiastic about getting him to smile when he was feeling particularly irritated. Even when he had been down in the absolute dumps, injured and crying, she had offered to help him. This was one of the things that slightly indebted him to her, and made it so he didn't entirely feel nothing but animosity toward her. She did care about him, and he found that he cared about her too, particularly in the moments of calm somberness, when she wasn't entirely bouncing off the walls every other moment. Those were the times that he would actually be happy to call her a friend, if he was being honest with himself.

The lion had been out for a long walk by himself to stretch out his now almost fully healed back leg, searching for any signs of prey or useful herbs, when the sound of Leroy's voice reached his perked ears. As of recently, he hadn't seen the Proxy around so much, and for some reason the other male hadn't been being particularly social. Well, as far as Worm knew Leroy had never been overly social in any sense, but Worm had at least been able to see him out and about more often until recently. He felt a cloud of concern over him at how Leroy had been acting as of late, and it really didn't help considering he was already worrying himself sick over Selby, Beck, and Red. Deciding to investigate what had brought Leroy out of his seeming hiding this time, Wormwood moved towards the noise and smell of the canine, and he eventually arrived at Feza's porch. He winced a bit as soon as he saw the female, figuring she would be in her usual annoyingly cheery mood, but he paused in surprise when he saw the look in her usually bright gaze. She actually looked... sad. She looked exhausted, saddened, and listless – none of which were adjectives that he ever would've used for Feza or anything surrounding her ever before. It was actually pretty worrying, and he internally cussed himself out for being so caring when he slowly moved over to check on her. He really couldn't help himself when it came to the other tanglers – no matter who they were, he felt a responsibility to help them, since even the ones he felt the most animosity towards were his family.

Making his way over to Leroy's side, he settled down beside the Proxy and tilted his head to one side, his eyes scanning over what Feza was doing. It seemed like a usual activity for her, pulling and twisting tinsel together to try and make hats like crowns to perch upon others' heads, but for some reason it seemed as though her heart wasn't truly into it, the helms becoming twisted and awkwardly lopsided the more she worked. He frowned at this, the sense of worry that had come over him becoming even worse, to the point where he felt almost nauseous. If Feza didn't even have it in her to be her insufferably cheery self, then what hope did all of them even really have? He swallowed thickly at this thought, his chest suddenly feeling tight and full of panicked butterflies that seemed to scrape their tiny mandibles against his heart, guilt pouring over his body in cold waves. Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down, he rumbled softly as he focused his gaze down at his paws instead of directly at Feza, not sure that he could handle the absolutely wrecked look the other tangler had on her face, [glow=black,1,400]"Yeah, what he said. What are you out here making this time, Feza? You don't seem... you don't seem like you're in your usual good mood, y'know?"[/glow] It felt awkward talking to her in such a casual manner after absolutely letting her have it last time they had met, but he felt like he needed to. She needed people to talk to, and he and Leroy were as good as any these days.

[fulzanin]

[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Feza hadn't been expecting anyone to show up on her porch. She wasn't making any sort of noise, and she was keeping her activities and festivities to herself. The snow leopard still had one of the crude wind chimes on her porch, but had taped the bells to the side so that the clanging was only that of the bells hitting each other. A little less noisy, but still noisy all the same. Her reaction to Leroy's approach was slow, finishing a tying together of the tinsel before even raising her head. The snow leopard hadn't met him before. What even was his name? Who was this? Feza didn't even know that he was second in command of the group. Perhaps if she was engaged in more conversations, once that weren't solely about telling her off, she supposed that she would know who this was.

Feza's expression fell a little. So even this task, this quietly done task of weaving together tinsel, was considered 'reckless' in the eyes of her clanmates. Her feathered wings pulled closer to herself. A response, the snow leopard tried to think of one. Instead she broke out into a laugh, her claws sliding forward from their sheathes. "Oh, it's nothing! It's nothing!" She insisted, a paw then reaching up to be licked and then scrub her face. "I'm just- just doing the usual party stuff! I have a big day tomorrow!" Then she spread the worst fake smile one could manage, and shuddered furiously.

Feza was an awful liar. She'd never lied to save her own pelt. The truth, the snow leopard did value the truth. It was almost as valued as her parties. Lies weren't something that Feza ever felt like she had to do. Her mind couldn't keep up with lies, it had no place in her chaotic and optimistic eyes. She wasn't even throwing a party for these tinsel hats, she was just making them as gifts. Sort of. Maybe she could hand them out as party favors. Then the snow leopard cringed inward on herself, her blue eyes squinting shut. No. That wouldn't work. No one would come. All the effort would be for nothing. She couldn't grasp the hint that had been given to her, that no one wanting these things should be a hint not to do them.

Her head snapped upwards when she noticed the lion that had said such a thing come over. Feza's frame froze still, her tired blue eyes widening in a surge of absolute terror. Exhaustion and the nightmare, it all coupled together with her already present fear of the larger mutated feline. Feza recoiled backwards, downwards, crouching closer to her project. Here it came. Here came more belittlement. Her mind could already guess the words that were going to be said. 'Feza, what the fuck is this? There's scraps of tinsel everywhere and it's annoying everyone!' Yes, she could hear that, and the lion hadn't even spoken yet. The mutated feline was shaking, her eyes wide and pupils thinned out to the width of paper.

"I-I'm not..doing anything," the snow leopard said. Her voice was tensed, and her blue gaze had settled on the lion's paws. She felt the nightmare's pain surge up. Teeth on her throat, claws raking through her pelt. Pain and blood, her wings probably had been severed, right? The feathered limbs tucked closer to her sides, and her slight shaking grew worse. When the lion had arrived, her statement of doing this for a party vanished. A lie, the snow leopard was willing to lie at the moment. It was such a distasteful thing, but in her terror it was the one thing Feza could think of doing. She didn't want the nightmare to become a reality.

The snow leopard was pressing herself against the floor, her gaze nearing unblinking. "E-everything's fine! Yea, everythings fine I'm not doing- I'm not doing anything." Her tail had gone stiff behind her, where usually the limb swished back and forth. Her tone was strained, tired, fearful. If she denied doing something for the parties the lion before her so deeply detested, then there would be no pain, right? Feza wasn't sure. She didn't want to risk it. She didn't want the nightmare to be reality. That sort of pain couldn't be real. That sort of loneliness, it already felt like it was present.

Feza, despite all her party throwing, had only truly interacted with the lion before her on consistent occasions. The lion that was angry at her, the lion that she had absolutely no doubts could make the pain of her nightmare a reality. Loneliness, it was already here. It hurt already, but it was a different pain. It wasn't teeth and claws against her fur. Rather, it was a deep and aching longing within her, and it hurt almost as equally as the fear that was surging through her tired self. She slowly reached forward with a paw, to grab some of the tinsel she had yet to work on, and tucked it under her fluffy self, as if trying to hide it. "You can- you can ask the cardboard boxes, I'm not doing anything."

[wormwood.]

[glow=#000,1,400]MY MAMA SAID THAT I'M NOT LIVING RIGHT. YOU RAISED A LION, MAMA, I AIN'T LYING, MAMA — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]

A sense of deep shame and guilt spread throughout the lion as he saw Feza trembling before him, her eyes immediately filling with fear and apprehension. He never wanted to instill that reaction in anybody, especially after the many months he had spent having that same reaction pounded into him under the iron fists of his parents. He realized that he had been a bit harsh on Feza in the past after her little stunts, but he had never thought that he was making her fear him. He didn't want to make anybody fear him, save for the bastards that made up the Pitt. His ears immediately pinned down against his head as he took in her body language, and he stepped backward, lowering his body down to seem less intimidating as he tucked his wings in close. He realized that ultimately it hadn't been physically that he had hurt Feza, and he had instead done so with his sharp as daggers words, but he figured perhaps if he didn't appear so frightening, his voice could perhaps convey a more comforting feeling. He took a deep breath before rumbling softly, shaking his head from side to side as he tried to show her he wasn't about to make her stop making her head decorations, [glow=black,1,400]"Wait... wait a minute, you don't have to stop and claim you're not doing anything on my account. You're not doing anything wrong right now, Feza. I'm not going to yell at you, I promise..."[/glow] He realized the words didn't sound very genuine coming from him, but he had to at least attempt to comfort her, since he hated causing this reaction in anyone, let alone the fun loving leopard who he had never seen in such a state before.

The lion was obviously unable to read Feza's mind, but if he had known what she was thinking of, and what she was worried he would do to her, he would've been horrified. he would never physically hurt another clanmates, and he certainly wasn't the type to murder somebody as innocent as Feza seemed. He didn't like murdering anybody at all, and the only person he was sure that he would kill now was probably Jervis, and certainly not Feza. If he knew what had happened to her back when she had been killed while leading her group, he probably would've been furious and protected her, in fact. However, he was pretty sure that Feza would never believe it if he told her that. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to build trust with the leopard at any point soon, especially considering the way that she was reacting to him, particularly now. There was nothing but strong distrust in her eyes, along with fear and the faintest bit of anger. He hadn't seen anybody look at him like that since his Mother, and it honestly made his stomach curl and clench, and make him feel like he was going to puke, in all honestly. He didn't want to make anybody in Tanglewood look at him the way that Judith had looked at him, and it felt like an awful failure on his part to have her in such a panicked state.

Panic gripped him at the unpleasant thoughts racing through his head, and he let out a soft and pained laugh that almost wracked his body as Feza mentioned the boxes. Shaking his head, he mumbled weakly with a slightly forced smile, not wanting to freak Feza out any further than he already had, [glow=black,1,400]"What... what do you mean ask the boxes? Feza, you know that boxes can't talk, right?"[/glow] He held no malice in his voice as he spoke, instead seeming just vaguely concerned for the winged large feline's sanity. Sure, Noah was a bit odd with his whole 'talking to trees' thing, but at least that was vaguely believable thanks to the fact that trees were living things, and maybe he just had some sort of odd power specific to him. With Feza's odd box comment... well, it just seemed totally implausible, and something said by aj absolute mad person who was slowly losing it – or rather, very quickly losing it, given how Feza usually acted.

[fulzanin]

[align=center][div style="width: 55%; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Feza had curled further in on herself, wings pulling ever closer to her fluffy form. The terror refused to leave, not even when Wormwood spoke to tell her of his ridiculous she was being. It was what she took from the words, the words sounding altered as any words would have been in such a panic stricken state. Now it was burrowing further, and her head sharply glanced behind her to the doorway of her home. What if the nightmare had only been a metaphor? What if it was to hint that if Wormwood didn't kill her, the boxes would? It had to be a message from the cardboard boxes. It had to be. There was no other explanation for such a horrific nightmare- Feza would bestow any sort of explanation to it that meant it would be less of a threat. Yet that sort of thinking only furthered the fright: her gods weren't happy with what she had been doing. They would do something about it, that's what the dream had meant.

A cruel laugh parted from her, shaken and fearful yet almost capable of dipping barely into the realm of sarcasm. "'What the fuck is wrong with you, Feza'?" She echoed, eyes focused on the floor right before her, "'Why do you think this is okay'? It seems to- it's- it definitely is you that means I have to stop. You've gone- gone and- gone ahead and made that very clear. You said- you- that you didn't want any more of them. This. All of this. All of what I do." Her voice was shaking, and terror continued to lay in all of her words. She did her best to mimic the other's hateful tone that had been used towards her, but it was the overall tone of fright that truly made it sound as if Feza wasn't even able to deepen her tone from it's ever high pitched state. The tone of fear almost could manage it, but in truth it didn't fully manage to dampen the pitch.

"Nothing wrong right- right now, but the moment that I- I get done with this, the moment I am, you're gonna start, aren't you? Because it's- it's not okay. It's not wrong right now, but it will be, won't it?" Feza kneaded at the floor beneath her feet. Her mind couldn't grasp that giving people noisy trinkets without asking for their permission was wrong. Especially now with her assumed threat of death by the boxes that she worshipped. She had to, yet it was considered wrong. It got her yelled at. She hated getting yelled at, it reminded her of when her birth family had tossed her out. She wasn't normal, she was pinks and blues and yellows, and when she had come back to try to ask why her colors were the basis for her exile, the shouts and swears had been all she could hear for days. It was all to familiar- it was all things that Feza desperately pushed down, and now a flimsy nightmare had brought the repressed memory to life. She hated it, she didn't want to be yelled at again.

The mutated snow leopard whimpered, pressing herself against the floor again when the other laughed. Now he was laughing at her, for being so scared, wasn't he? For being so foolish, for being so noisy, right? She whined, and heaved out a sob of a sort. Sharp teeth clenched together, a forced motion to try to keep such retained within. It failed, but the snow leopard tried to withhold her pained noise nonetheless. "Yes they are. Yes they are. They're gods," Feza insisted in a disheartened wail. "They don't talk to- to people like me but they, they, they will one day! One day," she added. No, they wouldn't talk to her. Not when she was failing them. Not when she was being such a disgrace, not able to keep the smile on her face. How selfish, she momentarily thought, she was being all caught up with her own problems then finishing these tinsel hats. Feza pressed her head against the floor, curled together as small as she physically could manage. It was uncomfortable, her wings were pressing into her chest and her legs hurt from how tightly they were pulled together.

[wormwood.]

As Feza echoed his own words right back at him, Wormwood was suddenly struck by just how incredibly harsh he had been with the snow leopard before. His golden ears stapled down against his head as she began to ramble on, her words filling with fear and distraught that he wasn't sure he could echo even during his worst times, except perhaps when he had been a cub. He hadn't meant to fuck her up so irreversibly, he had just wanted to show her that what she had been doing was wrong. Sure, perhaps he had been a bit cruel about it, but he had been... incredibly frustrated at the time, and so his usual words had come out like barbed daggers, as if he was trying to kill Feza with the very words that rolled off his tongue – even though that was certainly a bad way to think of it considering Feza's current thoughts, even if he was unaware of them. Still, even though he had preached to Feza with such vitriol and venom, he would never actually hurt her. Hell, he would never hurt a clanmate in general, and as upsetting as Feza could end up being, he would never hurt her physically – despite the fact he had unintentionally hurt her so emotionally.

Digging his claws into the earth beneath him in order to settle himself, the lion shook his head and hesitated for a moment, not entirely sure if he could actually convince Feza that he wasn't a threat to her. He looked down for a long moment, his muzzle brushing against the dirt beneath him, before he rose it back up and said firmly, a frown upon his face, "Feza... I know that I haven't exactly been kind to you before, but that doesn't mean I want you to entirely stop everything you do. I just... I want you to think a little bit before you do things. Like... ask people, before you do things. Some people don't want giant loud wind chimes outside their doors, some people don't want you to do a kazoo class at 4 am. And it's not just me. You can still do stuff like this, you just have to ask before you put a wind chime up. Ask the people in town before you do a class at 4 am, alright? You don't have to stop cheering people up, you just need to be more considerate. I'm not going to hurt you, alright? I've never wanted to hurt you. You just... it's annoying, when you do things without asking anybody." He tried to explain as straightforward as he could without sounding cruel, hoping that his deep voice didn't unintentionally come off as too hostile to her ears. He was being entirely honest in what he was saying: he would be fine with Feza's antics if she would just put a bit more consideration into what she was doing.

Turning his attention to what activity it was that she was actually doing, Wormwood rumbled as he gently poked at one of the tinsel hats with his paw, "For example, these tinsel hats aren't actually that annoying. Hell, they don't even make any noise. But you should still ask people before you just go around dropping them on people's heads. It just takes a bit of consideration... and I need to use a bit of consideration on my part as well. I promise I'll try not to get so frustrated and yell at you if you try and ask a little bit more... alright?" The lion asked softly, looking up to meet Feza's gaze as he held out a paw to her. The box thing was still pretty damn concerning, but considering that some people worshipped some really weird things, and he honestly didn't believe in any of it, but he wasn't about to question it any further. He certainly wasn't going to worship any box overlords any time soon, but he didn't want to upset her any further than she already was. He glanced over at Leroy for any sort of assistance, but honestly he doubted the proxy had any more of an idea of what to do than he did.

[glow=black,2,300]YOUR CHANNEL IS UNREACHABLE[/glow]

[fulzanin]

WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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"I- I- I do think," Feza sniffled, her trembling worsening for a moment. "I do think! I do! Everyone here is- they're- everyone's sad, yea? Gettin- gettin'- they get kidnapped and tortured and it's all awful! I'm just trying to- I'm trying to make everyone happy, okay? Everyone's just fine to sit and wallow in the- the bad stuff. If I ask them if it's okay for me to, to, to do this stuff, they're just gonna say no. Because in- in the moment they don't wanna be cheered up." Her voice was getting a little stronger, a little less than absolutely petrified. It was still present in her fearful and exhausted blue eyes, another tremble shaking her small form. "They don't wanna be cheered up, they- you just get stuck. And- and- and then it all gets worse, yea? 'If you cry I'm gonna cry', that saying, right? Then no one's happy and never gonna be happy because if you ask then- then no one will say yes because they're sad and- and- and it- it- and- and they're sad and don't wanna be cheered up and so they won't be- they won't take being cheered up at all."

Her hyperventilating had slowed down in her rambling, her blue eyes refusing to leave where they were concentrated on the floor. She knew how it was to stagnate in that sort of sorrow. She was dipping into it again right now. She couldn't ask the boxes if they were okay with her making tinsel hats, because then they would get angry with her, wouldn't they? She had to do it without asking, without giving herself a moment to doubt her ambitions. Feza shuddered, her wings finally growing tired from how tenses they were. They had been pressing almost into her ribs, and it had strained the fluffy limbs far more than flight usually did. They slowly fell from her sides, a weak sob coming from the vibrant snow leopard. "And if I can't ask, then how am I supposed to know what's annoying? There's- there's- there's so many different kinds of annoying and I..I don't understand what's s-so wrong with this and me. How'm I supposed to- to know what considerate is? No one's told me! I just keep getting yelled at!" Her words ended in a wail, shaking and sputtering for a moment more.

Her blue gaze turned to watch the other's paw nudging at the tinsel hat. It was no where near complete, and looked messy and illformed. She took a deep breath, and then another. Wasn't she just proving her own point, by getting so upset? It was a silly nightmare. So what. She lifted her paw and rubbed her face clear of any of the tears that had formed and darkened her vibrant pink fur. Feza stilled herself far too quickly, and presented a smile on her face. It hurt to smile so soon after bawling her eyes out, and it was so dreadfully fake that even Feza supposed that she was trying too hard to make it seem genuine. "You shouldn't get w-worried about little me. I'll..I'll figure out how t-to..be more considerate and ask. Even if it ruins the- the surprise an' everything." Her paw hesitantly lifted away from her face to nudge Wormwood's extended paw. Feza flinched back a little, the fluff of her tail sticking up for a few moments, for a moment the nightmare returning to her mind. No matter how silly she could say it was, the terror it had left her with had been real.

She weakly laughed and dropped her head, wings hanging limp by her sides. Feza knew she was tired, her blue gaze slowly lowering down to the one tinsel hat that she had been working on. "I don't suppose you'd want to- to help with this, because it isn't annoying," she asked, one of her ears lifting from where previously they had been pressed firm to her head. Yes, change the conversation in the slightest bit. Feza didn't like how the conversation had been on her for such a long time. How selfish. How terrible of her. The snow leopard thought bad of her self pity, of how distraught and deathly afraid she had been a moment prior. Her breathing was still shaky, and her eyes still had the water of tears ready to fall contained only barely. Feza's mentality suggested that she had to make up for her episode in some way, and so offer the activity of crafting the tinsel hats she did.

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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY