Numb
01-03-2016, 02:58 PM
She'd finally given up. She'd given up the thought that her family would return. That they would come back for her. That they would suddenly come out of hiding and say "hey here we are!" but no. It'd been over a season, and she left alone during the whole of winter, and probably for the other winters to come. She couldn't cry anymore, her tears were dried up. She was tired of crying, tired of shaking and tired of being on her own. She was nearing a year old now, did yearlings still cry? She sighed, her bones hurt from the cold and the mud and the dampness of the earth. She had been so depressed that she had barely eaten the last couple of weeks, and even now she was sure she was getting sick. As if to confirm that, she let loose a series of sneezes that made her head pound worse and worse with each one.
God was she tired. Sniffling, she stood and left the shelter of the rock, her old den flooded now thanks to the river. Mud clung to her small frame, the frailness of her body obvious with her lack of care as her steps were wobbly. Why hadn't she just...died yet? Why hadn't a hawk or something just come and pick her off? Maybe an owl would tonight...the moon hung in full, casting shadows across the ground. Her own blending with them, her midnight toned body fading into the backdrop. A whimper escaped her, more because she was feeling yucky then anything else. She was tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep and never wake up. Maybe...just maybe she could walk herself to death. "SPEAK" |
