She had come from the mountains, ambling through its threatening stones and steep switchbacks with caution and fatigue. Soirée had kept moving, despite her better judgement and beating heart. She knew what she was running from, but had little certainty of what lied ahead. For the first time in her life, she was left without the answers to her problems and forced to descend into the unknown in solitude.
It was not exactly the life she chose, nor one she would’ve opted for given the chance. But it was the life she had now, and Soirée was a survivor. She would survive this.
Her paws wept in dollops of red, the callous pads at her feet no match for the terrain that lied ahead. It was a miracle she had even made it out of the mountains in the first place. Although, the forest had been no better. The sound of a roaring river had caught her attention miles ago, and with only the thought of pure survival, she had chased after it.
The young Noir had ignored the way the pebbles beneath her paws pinched at her toes and poked holes in her strength, and instead, she pushed as far as she could towards the river’s bank. Along either side lied puddles of large stones and boulders, each face of the rocks ahead sporting sharp sides and threatening warnings. She did not mind them. The river itself was loud and frightening. Even in the bowels of winter, the current seemed angry and unfed—as though the valley around her required some sort of sacrifice.
But it would not be her.
She paused momentarily, sighing against the tightness in her chest. Soirée lowered herself in the one spot that did not have a circle of sharp rocks, and rested by the river side with weary eyes. She’d drink in a moment, she told herself. Then she’d leave—but only after she closed her eyes for but a moment.
Only for a moment, she promised.
It was not exactly the life she chose, nor one she would’ve opted for given the chance. But it was the life she had now, and Soirée was a survivor. She would survive this.
Her paws wept in dollops of red, the callous pads at her feet no match for the terrain that lied ahead. It was a miracle she had even made it out of the mountains in the first place. Although, the forest had been no better. The sound of a roaring river had caught her attention miles ago, and with only the thought of pure survival, she had chased after it.
The young Noir had ignored the way the pebbles beneath her paws pinched at her toes and poked holes in her strength, and instead, she pushed as far as she could towards the river’s bank. Along either side lied puddles of large stones and boulders, each face of the rocks ahead sporting sharp sides and threatening warnings. She did not mind them. The river itself was loud and frightening. Even in the bowels of winter, the current seemed angry and unfed—as though the valley around her required some sort of sacrifice.
But it would not be her.
She paused momentarily, sighing against the tightness in her chest. Soirée lowered herself in the one spot that did not have a circle of sharp rocks, and rested by the river side with weary eyes. She’d drink in a moment, she told herself. Then she’d leave—but only after she closed her eyes for but a moment.
Only for a moment, she promised.