I Will Not Melt

The quivering flesh of the tepid queen rippled beneath defined muscles. For once she had fled the forest, fled her thoughts and the knowledge of her mate's latest activities; she had condoned them, and yet still the idea brought her grief and despise, so she ran. Blindly she coursed across the earth, a mere streak, racing with her mind numb, her legs a blur, her actions blind -- she cared nothing of the consequences, fled for the sake of fleeing. She needed air. The heated expulsion of her panting breath slammed from her lungs which burned with the weight of her decisions. She paid no heed to where she was going, and as she reached the shoreline, the woman's helter-skelter pace would be her downfall, her forepaws catching on an unseen rock and causing her to come to a screeching halt, tumbling head over heel and rolling heavily in the sandy shore, gathering bruises and cuts along the way until her momentum came to a halt and she lay sprawled on her side, gasping for air.