Oh, Despicable Me

The witch did not felt like swimming yet something drew her towards the ocean. In this brittle air even her hope shatters. She was lost in the swirling white flakes on absolutely white ground just as she was lost in her decision, her life wasn't her own anymore, she body did no longer belong to just her. She was a carrier, a vessel that withhold life within her, a cage with a lock. There was nothing to guide her back toward the mountain but the below freezing temperatures will get even worse if her luxurious, perfectly groomed pelt was to get wet; she would freeze by the next sunrise. Swimming was not an option. Gods bestowed the witch with the outmost of luck; a blanched section of tree was bobbing in the water, and as soon as her attention was caught she was drawn to the object intuitively. Teacup paws stood at the waterline, salty water lapping at them in gusto as violet gaze remained fixed upon it. The section was an old timer, a veteran of the brine. The old planks retained the odour of the fish even after a storm. Yet she was sound, seaworthy enough to take to the waters and engulf the woman in a adventure that was meant to clear her mind. It took a mere moment; mile-long limbs, graceful in their motion leaped upon the large wooden section, that might have belonged to a mighty oak, she could not be certain but without a doubt she wanted to let paddle and let the sea take her away.

The sea carried her away. Freedom engulfed her, wrapped her in its warm embrace though the sea breeze certainly standed its hellish ground. It was not long until she reached an unknown insland and to her surprise the scenery did not differ much from the rest of the Eastern territories. Yet there was nowhere on earth she ever felt the miracle of life stronger than this arctic island. To be of warm flesh and bone amid the swirling white was like being a splash of ink from the heavens, a mere dot in the diary of wolfkind. The witch was furious to say the least, anger filled her veins due to the incredulous situation she found herself in yet she tried her best to maintain her calm, to let the scenery and the cold artic air numb her lungs and heart that tightened within her chest, becoming, she thought, two sizes too small. In the arctic island there was nothing to hold the mind, no familiar thing, no comfort. It was only numbness, emptyness, a void that absorbed everything in its wake, a black hole. She needed it.