Sometimes, when she drifted so close to the stars, it was easier to imagine that she was less alone than she felt.
She didn't know what kind of karmic justice she was filling for all the weight that the universe had deemed appropriate to place upon her narrow shoulders. She knows that there are others far less blessed than she — she thinks of Delight, his loss, then of Alarian and what precious little she knew of him. But somehow it still felt as if nothing she did was ever good enough. Despite her best efforts, the Morningsiders had failed to assimilate. She'd seen precisely zero of them at Yule, which she feared had not turned out as well as Lily had hoped. Her daughter was still missing; perhaps dead, perhaps somewhere thriving without her. She didn't know which scenario was worse to bear.
Nobody inside these walls or outside of them respected her or listened to her. When she called for pack meetings, the majority of wolves refused to show. When they tried to host events within their own borders, few could be bothered to move from their dens. Every effort she took to breathe life into the pack that had been so unfairly thrust upon her felt like screaming into the void — a void that would never rouse or care to expend an ounce of energy back in her direction.
But despite all of this, she couldn't fault them for it. Why should she? Seabreeze, who had always carried the weight of others burdens with effortless grace, felt like she had nobody to do the same for her. Despite all the love around her, she felt none of it herself. Her wife's sweet ministrations touched her less as time went by and the pile of issues she had to deal with grew and grew. Her friend Lily had found her true love. Delight had been avoiding her, presumably consumed by the loss of Queenie and his daughter.
And the only common denominator was Seabreeze. She couldn't help but think that just maybe, she was what had made them all so miserable.
Some had left and some still remained (in body if not all in spirit), but she could only feel close to any of them when she climbed through the tunnels of Elysium's vertical walls and brushed the stars. She had never gotten why all of those people had loved the stars until now. So she lingered and she wept until the breaking light of day began to dissolve the visions of love and lovers both lost and retained, until she could no longer feel them with her.
And when she was ready, she gathered herself to leave. When she had brought herself up, the ground had not yet frozen. Somewhere upon her descent when the tunnels broke to a ledge, she slipped, and her small malnourished frame cracked against the rock.
And though she breathed, she did not rouse. Not for the void that would never rouse back.
She didn't know what kind of karmic justice she was filling for all the weight that the universe had deemed appropriate to place upon her narrow shoulders. She knows that there are others far less blessed than she — she thinks of Delight, his loss, then of Alarian and what precious little she knew of him. But somehow it still felt as if nothing she did was ever good enough. Despite her best efforts, the Morningsiders had failed to assimilate. She'd seen precisely zero of them at Yule, which she feared had not turned out as well as Lily had hoped. Her daughter was still missing; perhaps dead, perhaps somewhere thriving without her. She didn't know which scenario was worse to bear.
Nobody inside these walls or outside of them respected her or listened to her. When she called for pack meetings, the majority of wolves refused to show. When they tried to host events within their own borders, few could be bothered to move from their dens. Every effort she took to breathe life into the pack that had been so unfairly thrust upon her felt like screaming into the void — a void that would never rouse or care to expend an ounce of energy back in her direction.
But despite all of this, she couldn't fault them for it. Why should she? Seabreeze, who had always carried the weight of others burdens with effortless grace, felt like she had nobody to do the same for her. Despite all the love around her, she felt none of it herself. Her wife's sweet ministrations touched her less as time went by and the pile of issues she had to deal with grew and grew. Her friend Lily had found her true love. Delight had been avoiding her, presumably consumed by the loss of Queenie and his daughter.
And the only common denominator was Seabreeze. She couldn't help but think that just maybe, she was what had made them all so miserable.
Ibis. Alarian. Terance. Mato. Delight. Sunny. Olive. Lily. Khali.
Some had left and some still remained (in body if not all in spirit), but she could only feel close to any of them when she climbed through the tunnels of Elysium's vertical walls and brushed the stars. She had never gotten why all of those people had loved the stars until now. So she lingered and she wept until the breaking light of day began to dissolve the visions of love and lovers both lost and retained, until she could no longer feel them with her.
And when she was ready, she gathered herself to leave. When she had brought herself up, the ground had not yet frozen. Somewhere upon her descent when the tunnels broke to a ledge, she slipped, and her small malnourished frame cracked against the rock.
And though she breathed, she did not rouse. Not for the void that would never rouse back.
![[Image: 70c0c50922211f79c19a9fbb2dbe797a.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/70c0c50922211f79c19a9fbb2dbe797a.png)
December 27, 2018, 01:18 AM
Why she was awake at this hour, she didn't know. Nor did she know why she ascended toward the stargazing place, if only to see a sunset. Did anyone really know, ever, why choices were made a certain way? One could say that Lily, a character in a story, was placed here by her creator, just in time to find the still-breathing body on the stone.
But then what does that make us? Are we mere characters in someone else's story, pulled to and fro to satisfy their whims and dreams and goals?
What was she to do? She was no medic, had no knowledge of healing or plants. All she could do was talk to others, and that was a damn fine occupation to have when they could, you know, actually talk back. But here she lay next to a motionless, speechless figure, completely and utterly paralyzed herself. She had to call for. . .someone. She had to get Seabreeze to safety.
The blackbird gently placed her teeth in the thickest part of the woman's neck, taking great care to drag her back down at the slowest speed she could manage.
But then what does that make us? Are we mere characters in someone else's story, pulled to and fro to satisfy their whims and dreams and goals?
Seabreeze,Lily breathed, her face stricken as she trotted to her friend's side, skidding a little on the icy surface. She bent low, breath fogging in the chilly air. The Seer still breathed, but the lights were out and no one, at least right now, was home.
What was she to do? She was no medic, had no knowledge of healing or plants. All she could do was talk to others, and that was a damn fine occupation to have when they could, you know, actually talk back. But here she lay next to a motionless, speechless figure, completely and utterly paralyzed herself. She had to call for. . .someone. She had to get Seabreeze to safety.
The blackbird gently placed her teeth in the thickest part of the woman's neck, taking great care to drag her back down at the slowest speed she could manage.
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