To the banks of the lake she went, and cracked through the thin ice at the edges with pushes of her small paws. Here she dug, pulling away scraps of frozen earth with bits of dried grass mixed in- it was messy and disappointing, and yet, she was doing what she could- she would figure this out.
The earth was clay- and its hue was red. Perhaps it was not the right shade, but it would do, and when she mixed it with water the grasses slipped away and the mud clumped together.
How far up her legs were these markings supposed to go? If it was meant to show longing, she would have to paint herself all the way to her hips and elbows- but she tempered the thought, and rubbed the red earth into the soft, pale fur of her feet, and up just past her ankles.
She let it dry, and then washed it off.
From her ankles to her toes, the fur was a toned but bright shade of red. With a smile on her face, she set off.
The earth was clay- and its hue was red. Perhaps it was not the right shade, but it would do, and when she mixed it with water the grasses slipped away and the mud clumped together.
How far up her legs were these markings supposed to go? If it was meant to show longing, she would have to paint herself all the way to her hips and elbows- but she tempered the thought, and rubbed the red earth into the soft, pale fur of her feet, and up just past her ankles.
She let it dry, and then washed it off.
From her ankles to her toes, the fur was a toned but bright shade of red. With a smile on her face, she set off.
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There isn’t a blade beneath, keen enough to pierce our skin - by Simbelmyne - January 19, 2024, 01:17 AM