ohana
viv
11-20-2021, 11:01 AM
Like many on her mother's side of the family Harlow was a wildly independent woman. She'd spent some time around her father's family lands when he'd first brought them home, but in the end the itch to move had been to great for her. She'd roamed far and wide, and made nary a visit to her kin during that time. At some point over the last season she'd contracted the illness. For a time Harlow had felt she'd managed her symptoms well, but she couldn't say that any longer. Crystals grew with abandon over her body. They grew thickly in places where the fur was short. Her breath came in ragged, painful gasps. It was only when she'd coughed up bloody crystals that Harlow had been forced to reckon with what she had suspected for days: they were growing in her lungs. That knowledge filled the normally stoic woman with fear. In that moment she knew she needed her family.
So began a terrible journey. As the days passed Harlow grew weaker and weaker. Her mind started to leave her. She'd come to herself with minimal memory of how she'd gotten somewhere but nearly tangible dreams of crystals pouring from her eyes, nose and mouth; of smothering under them. The young Andravendi would wake with long claw marks down her face and legs, and no memory of how they'd gotten there. The blood under her claws though suggested they were her handiwork.
This was too much. Her legs gave way again and as bitter, angry tears filled her eyes Harlow knew it was for the last time. She had nothing left and she hadn't made it. She didn't even know where she was or how close she'd come, only that she could go no further.
Current time: 11-23-2024, 10:28 PM
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