pretty when you cry

*Claire* · September 13, 2014, 01:36 PM

the kind of tired sleep can't fix

While the spunky girl continued to trash her legs around the foamy skirts ofthe sea, Claire figeted her paw against the sand, making circles and lines with the tip of her toes. Finally she heard the girl's squeals die out and again she saw the small-framed dark female turn her attention to her again.

Claire's golden obs fell onto the ripples of white foam crash softly against the other's legs. She wished she could put her fear past her and dip her toes in the relaxing water, but she couldn't help but think of the day her head had gone under and the burning sensation the salty water left on her nose and mouth. She wished too , she could walk with her head high, without fearing rejection or abandonment. She wished she could talk to other packmates as easily-- but she couldn't, because in her mind she was still a slave. Not to Ragnar but to her own misery.

Despite looking younger, the little black female spoke the truth, one that as cynical as it might seem, it was correct. She knew there would be a day she would not rise, that like her mother she'll stay on the ground, slowly loosing her body heat and the rythmn of her heart. There would be a day that her skin would be cold and her eyes would be empty --and the female in front of her would eventually do that too. "I know.. I just don't wanna die in the water" she confessed. In her opinion dying of suffocation was probably the worst death there was.

When the other questioned why she wandered around the beach if she feared so the ocean so much, the beige colored girl slumped her frail shoulders and gave the female a vavant look"Because I wanted to make peace" she barked. Although knowing the dangers the waved carried she found a certain charm on the ocean that lurred her in.