Duck Lake ♡ oh i'm the same, i'm the same, i'm trying to change.

angst!thread
late afternoon of 04/12, hour or so after this.
tagged for @Oath ♡

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Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. She was a hurricane, a frenzied flurry of wispy, speckled down and wildly splayed limbs grasping at the green earth beneath her quivering frame, thrusting herself forward by any means possible with sheer recklessness and wanton abandon; drunk on pure instinct, the unrepentant and primal urge to get away, to run, not again, not this, this just wasn't fast enough—

—but running from what? This intensity had engulfed her so swiftly, had snuck up from abaft and snatched her by the scruff of her nape, leaving not an inkling of it's intent or what could have tantalised it out of it's hiding place at such a time as now. This cruel beast, this villain in her head that could suddenly bring the girl to her knees shaking, was supposed to stay back on Sparrowhawk Island, where it belonged, where it had been created, where it thrived. It had no reason to be here, no fear to feed on, and nothing had gone particularly wrong at the lair. Her injury was minor, a nuisance at most, and her new acquaintance had come out practically unscathed, save for a tender shoulder. The beast had fled, she had parted from the incident with sound mind... she was fine, everyone was okay, and if anything, it could have been worse.

Yes, it could have been so much worse.

For whatever reason, this one realisation, was the final nail in a coffin she didn't even know was being built.

It was all just too much for the dove, and so she unravelled; a terrified and overwhelmed young soul who was no longer armoured, protected by the adrenaline and ignorant hope that had carried her forward thus far. How foolish she had been to believe she could have done this without help, that she was strong enough to care for herself, to care for Oath. She was a naive, little whelp playing make believe, thinking she could become alpha some day if she just carried on her delusions. As if moving to new lands somehow made her a stronger, more worthy wolf. It didn't. It never would. She was the same stupid girl, one that was too sensitive and cried too easily, who couldn't speak up for herself, and who had just offered herself up to eat on a herb-embellished platter. To destroy herself. To destroy Oath.

She was exhausted.

The first sob ripped itself from her breast in a strangled choke the moment the lake came into sight from between the curtain of aspen trees — and once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in a continual and unbroken stream. Heaving sobs wracked her tired frame, forcing the fae to slacken her pace as she gasped for gulping breaths, soon bumbling clumsily out of the tree line and into the open of the lake shoreline. She attempted, halfheartedly, to blink away the tears clouding her vision but to no avail, meanwhile narrowly avoiding tumbling onto her side as she staggered towards the orange and brown blob perched on its usual branch, collapsing into a sniffling heap right in front of her once she was close enough. She was a mess.

A tail-tucked, head hung, snotty, wet, whimpering, out of breath, shivering and incoherent mess.

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