death is like a one way ticket to a distant star
04-01-2021, 09:00 AM
OOC: M for death yadda yadda. Askan has a lot to post but don't use that as an excuse to be lazy for the wordcount with this prompt plz!
Askan was tired, exhausted beyond words and reason. It didn't even feel as though he had a body or form anyone, he was torn at the seams, dripping as he dragged himself along, eyes hooded. He could barely remember what had happened, his thoughts were like smoke, wisping through his grasp as he tried to...just be and think. To live. Even that was hard, as if asking for too much. He didn't even feel the cold or hear the wind as it roared in his ears, screeching at him to keep fighting, to push on and make it home. He closed his eyes, sucking in a rattling breath as he saw the grey stone walls of the castle and the distant blobs of his packmates standing high upon the ramparts. He didn't have friends, there was no one who'd taken a shining to him except that damn goose and Resin and yet...he missed it, the comfort and familiarity. Safety and security. All concepts that felt so distant to him, as though they'd never been real to begin with. Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness that kept him slugging along, bloodied teeth gritted as his skin struggled to stay attached where it ought to be. Maybe Askan just didn't want to die alone. Or at all. He wasn't sure.
Either way that didn't seem like too much to ask for. But you know, cats will be cats no matter how great or small they all had a mean streak. That's all there was to say about it now, all he could think of. One fuck up after enough till he was buried in it. A disappointment to the very end, just Askan things. He grunted, the stone of the Fjord rubbed against his cheek, the haze of his thoughts swayed back and forth, as though stuck in a never ending loop. Panic set in first, the pain was blinding, overwhelming for the sharpest most horrible moment. And then it dulled as a feeling of knowing, understanding almost settled right in as though this was inevitable, like he had no reason to be surprised. What ifs and whys swirled around in his mind, only for a sudden snap of apathy to take control as he let out what could only be compared to a sigh. But all wet and gurgly, blood was were it shouldn't be. It was everywhere.
It was slow and inevitable. Where was his sense of pride and dignity? He just wanted it to stop, to all be over already. Even if only just in cause they came back, those cats with daggers as teeth and malice in their eyes.
His vision blurred around the edges there were figures approaching, no doubt lured in by the scent of blood and innards and all of Askan's insides, outside. He barely squinted, white dots pressed at his eyes and he only just recalled that it was snowing. That it had never stopped.
"Fuck you." Was all he managed to rasp, one final venomous hurrah. Stubborn to the end.
Askan was tired, exhausted beyond words and reason. It didn't even feel as though he had a body or form anyone, he was torn at the seams, dripping as he dragged himself along, eyes hooded. He could barely remember what had happened, his thoughts were like smoke, wisping through his grasp as he tried to...just be and think. To live. Even that was hard, as if asking for too much. He didn't even feel the cold or hear the wind as it roared in his ears, screeching at him to keep fighting, to push on and make it home. He closed his eyes, sucking in a rattling breath as he saw the grey stone walls of the castle and the distant blobs of his packmates standing high upon the ramparts. He didn't have friends, there was no one who'd taken a shining to him except that damn goose and Resin and yet...he missed it, the comfort and familiarity. Safety and security. All concepts that felt so distant to him, as though they'd never been real to begin with. Perhaps it was sheer stubbornness that kept him slugging along, bloodied teeth gritted as his skin struggled to stay attached where it ought to be. Maybe Askan just didn't want to die alone. Or at all. He wasn't sure.
Either way that didn't seem like too much to ask for. But you know, cats will be cats no matter how great or small they all had a mean streak. That's all there was to say about it now, all he could think of. One fuck up after enough till he was buried in it. A disappointment to the very end, just Askan things. He grunted, the stone of the Fjord rubbed against his cheek, the haze of his thoughts swayed back and forth, as though stuck in a never ending loop. Panic set in first, the pain was blinding, overwhelming for the sharpest most horrible moment. And then it dulled as a feeling of knowing, understanding almost settled right in as though this was inevitable, like he had no reason to be surprised. What ifs and whys swirled around in his mind, only for a sudden snap of apathy to take control as he let out what could only be compared to a sigh. But all wet and gurgly, blood was were it shouldn't be. It was everywhere.
It was slow and inevitable. Where was his sense of pride and dignity? He just wanted it to stop, to all be over already. Even if only just in cause they came back, those cats with daggers as teeth and malice in their eyes.
His vision blurred around the edges there were figures approaching, no doubt lured in by the scent of blood and innards and all of Askan's insides, outside. He barely squinted, white dots pressed at his eyes and he only just recalled that it was snowing. That it had never stopped.
"Fuck you." Was all he managed to rasp, one final venomous hurrah. Stubborn to the end.