stranger than earth

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

Quick was Jendayi to regather her composure and lift herself onto her paws once more. Her fluster quickly subsided and the shock of his presence (and the sheer cold of the snow against her face) was subdued. He laughed, and Jendayi felt exasperated. It wasn’t the sort of introduction she had ever imagined herself giving, and it had undoubtedly scarred the usually-calm first impression she would usually give. She thought, humorously, that perhaps it would be a different experience if she at first appeared more light-hearted and lively than her usual steeled nature. Despite his almost ill-natured words his tone was more friendly, and Jendayi allowed her frayed fur to settle, and her gaze to become less intense, less harsh. What, am I bothering you? he asks, and she replies with a soft and simple:  “No.” She said nothing other than that, knowing if she desperately tried to give some form of explanation, some you just scared me, that’s all, it would be some lost cause perhaps simply to subdue the fact she had most certainly embarrassed herself. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, and the overwhelming urge to avert her gaze from him. Damnit.

He did not allow for the silence to linger long, and for once, Jendayi was grateful for it. Where before she may have felt more expended having to listen and respond to more questions, she instead welcomed the sound of his voice to distract her from her own festering thoughts. The expense of her solitude often led to a terrible self-image, and the wounds that were created when she was less-than-graceful only deepend since her interactions were so few and far between. In short, the longer she made herself to be some frightened doe, the longer she felt her heart hammer against her chest in the worst of ways. He seems to play on this, and it further stirs the birdwings of her heart to flutter. She steels herself, and where a younger her may have retorted offensively, she manages to keep her voice even. “I did not expect to be ambushed,” she responds nonchalantly, her choice of words purposeful. She does not reply to his second statement, and instead watches carefully as he masterfully pushes himself onto the lake, ice sliding under well-controlled paws, keeping him upright and stationary.

Jendayi realized, perhaps childishly: she wanted that.

Cautiously, a single paw poked toward the ice. Her limbs were trembling, the shock of her first fall still resonating through her. A single claw clicked against the ice, and as soon as the pad reached it, the sudden shift of terrain and lack of friction caused it to slip, caused her to quickly retract it back. Golden gaze found Kai once more, before returning to the firm black sheet below. She let go of the breath she’d been holding, and pressed her paw against it—firmer, this time, her claws arching out to grab ahold of it as best as she could. This time, it held, and after a few moments of testing its strength she placed the other front paw on the ice. Eventually, she was on it in its entirety, her lips curving into a saccharine and maidenly smile, some hidden triumph unfurling like a kindling fire in her breast—I did it.