Duck Lake death seems fitter

Her body burned as though she were engulfed by the cruel embers of flame.  Every breath were a laborious venture – her lungs felt full, inflamed, strangulating.  She felt as though the thread of her mortality waned, suspended precariously upon a dulled blade that would promise an agonizingly unhurried expiry.  A soft breath danced upon her lips – chapped by the bite of cold – she needed relief, something to bring her even the slightest solace from her infinite suffering.  She had wandered aimlessly, perhaps – she had no real direction, for this new land still held its unnavigated mystery.  She hadn't the desire to travel in her illness, nor did she particularly feel the spark of a voyagers curiosity.

The subdued ripples of liquid whispered softly in the eerie, wintry silence.  It inspired her ears to perk up, and her pace to (unwillingly)  quicken.  Her diminutive paws sang across the ground, an orchestra of dismantling ice crunching under her feet as she stomped across the rigidly inflexible grasses.  She thoughtlessly submerged herself in the frigid waters, a gasp spilling suddenly from her gaped mouth, as the shock of the gelid temperature and comfort avariciously devoured her.  Water lapped at the crest of her shoulders, undulated over buxom hips, and she let herself lie at the ponds edge; her head rested upon the bank as she let it soothe her scorching fever.  She closed her eyes, her lips parting as she breathed gently, lulling into an icy embrace. 

excuse the phone post <3 @Epic