10-25-2019, 11:05 PM
WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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It had been circling through her mind for a few days now. That alone was starling and strange and foreign. Things often failed to linger in Feza’s mind for more than a few seconds at a time. To have something settle in her head and refuse to leave no matter what task she set herself to do was absolutely strange. It was odd. It was foreign. The snow leopard would have liked it more if it was for something else - anything else, really. Tossing it over in her mind allowed for her to stay awake and avoid sleeping. Sleeping on her issue wouldn’t work. It only made it worse. Constantly growing nightmares that forced terror into her bones and fluff and echoed through every move was not what she needed when the topic her mind was stuck on was related to such a thing. She couldn’t even fully focus on the task at paw, of sorting candy, without her eyelids dropping or her mind tumbling back again.
She needed to apologize, and it was a well deserved apology. Feza raised her fluff form, shaking her pelt, giving a mumble. Her head had dipped and jerked herself back awake, a sharp breath following the movement. An apology was in order. She had said and gone on a tangent a while ago. Feza had failed to keep everything neatly wrapped and tucked away, and her fears had spewed out on those present like a bleeding sheep. She had hurt someone’s feelings, and her own in all honesty. Wouldn’t apologizing make her feel better, too? Feza wasn’t sure. Her paws numbly nudged another bag of skittles to the side, and sighed. This was hard. She hadn’t ever had the chance to apologize for anything before. Feza hadn’t been allowed to apologize about her vibrant colors to her parents and.. that was it. The rest of her life had been spent alone, desperately craving company. And her words had shooed off the one person that had attended most of her festivities - even if it had mostly been begrudgingly or because of how chaotic they were.
“Boxy,” Feza asked, head turning to look at the nearest cardboard box, “have you ever apologized for something before? I’m, im struggling here. Anything would help.” Her blue eyes widened, hopeful, but the box didn’t respond. In Feza’s mind, they did answer her for she was not considered great enough for them to grace her with their wisdom. Her wings dropped, exhaling, kneading her paws. She felt something underneath, and lowered her head. Gummy worms. Huh.
The snow leopard snagged one of the colorful candies from the bag. Feza’s icy eyes widened with a sudden realization, a surge of consciousness through her aimless pondering. She pried through the bag until she found one that was of suitable color. Then the vibrant feline grabbed a nearby party favor bag, carefully wrapping it up, before shoving her way out the door.
In truth, Feza had only been to Wormwood’s house once before. That had been when he had initially become a Hellhound. That small form had shoved away most of her original surges of fear - the fear that was associated with lions and their sharp teeth and claws, not that of a hellhound. Yes, a hellhound should have been more scary to Feza, but it had instead brought relief. No, she had to correct herself. Two other times she had come to the lion’s household: once to tape a bell to his door and another when his wings had grown in. Feza hesitated when she finally got close. She could feel the fear bubbling, again threatening to spill out. Her teeth clenched the party bag tighter. A flap of her wings aided her over to the other’s door. Feza turned, buffeting the door with a wing to knock while her head lowered to set the bag down. “Hey, hey Wormwood!” The vibrant feline shouted. Her voice cracked a little - terror slipping through for one vowel and one alone - before swiftly returning to the regular high and excitable pitch. “I’ve got something super, super, it’s super important! Are you, you even home? It’s super important and you should, you should come and look right now.” A pleasant surprise this would be, surely. The snow leopard deeply hoped so, her unable to hide the nervous rapid flicking of her tail.
//mobile
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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY
THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY
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FULZANIN is a 19 year old content creator. Currently roleplaying as Beezlebub in the Pitt and Jotunhel in the Typhoon. Time spent outside of work and writing is typically done in Creatures of Sonaria. FULZANIN is also in a happy relationship, and is aegosexual/asexual herself.
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