happy endings are the hardest to fake,

her heaven is only half alive
i fell asleep in his, but he could not breathe in mine

The cold chill awoke Jendayi; some great upheavel of wintry wind stirred about her shallow and makeshift den, causing her to shiver. Claws gripped into the soft mossy firmament, thick icy fur unable to bare away the chill that usually came with such an altitude. The land was achingly quiet except for the howling of the wind, and the sky was so choked in white mist that Jendayi had long been unable to tell whether it was day or night. She was hungry, malnourished enough to crave even the thought of food yet not strong enough to get it yet. Each time she had tried to leave the den, she would be ripped around by the intense winds; whenever the winds died down, she could only leave so far before the fog would erase her steps. The scent was so thick of snow and the land so seemingly flat and so empty. Even the flower laid atop her crown had frozen over, and pieces of the petals fell away like nimble ice chips. Oftentimes the dreadful thought am I going to die here? crossed her mind, but Jendayi often reminded herself things were not nearly as dire as they seemed to be. She was hungry, but likewise, she was strong.

Eventually, the wind stopped itself enough to allow some heat to filter through. It no longer blew snowflakes harshly into her face and her eyes, and left the world almost eerily still. She had abandoned most of the things she had brought with her (some pelts to keep the cold ground warm to sleep on, and the bones of prey she had caught and eaten before coming here), and continued to press on. Paws wet with wintry chill and long beginning to freeze over treaded slowly through the slush. The promises of warmer weather tickled her thoughts and curled about her cheeks like unfurling claws, guiding her in any direction toward them. Long had the delusions of hunger and sleeplessness begin to settle, and what felt like miles of walking had turned only to be large circles (and thankfully so, given the dangerous terrain Jendayi knew not of yet). Her focus had shifted from the careful ground to the bleakness ahead, falling so delicately into the land’s machinating trap. What seemed like an endless horizon soon turned downward, and the firm earth underneath Jendayi’s front paws soon became nothing but air.

Her hind paws scrambled desperately, but soon her weight toppled forward and she plunged into the gaping trench; a loud cry exhaled from her jaws and echoed against the steep walls of the canyon. Seconds turned to hours, and her dreadful thoughts returned to her: I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die. She closed her eyes, and felt her front paws just barely catch the unstable rock a few meters down from the top. The lightness from her hunger allowed herself to hold desperately on, fed by the adrenaline violently coursing through her veins, but that same starvation hindered Jendayi’s strength, and caused her paws to begin sleeping. She allowed herself one final surrender of looking down, and was met with nothing but darkness, and a certain demise. Without waiting to help herself, to consider her options (for there was no time, truly), she quickly called out indiscriminately—for anything, for anyone: “Help! Help me, please!” This is it. This is the end of it all.