Wileyfangs wrote:
Prompt: The surface. It's open, it's bright and hurts her eyes. There are no tunnels, nothing to hide under. It's just airy. Chilly. The catacombs are familiar, tight spaces and open caverns, there's always something overhead but out here there's nothing. The sky is bright baby blue and the sun is so bright it practically blinds her. But worse than that are the leaves. The leaves that fall are featherlight but there are hundreds of them, all falling at once, crinkling underpaw. It's impossible to be silent with them everywhere, impossible to stake an ambush or scout without having to walk through hundreds of cracking, crinkly leaves.
The noises, the sounds of the surface wind whistling through the leaves in impossible whispers. The scents of oak and pine and apples. It's all so overwhelming. She lays low to the ground whenever possible, hating the feeling of being so exposed to a world she knows nothing about. Some cats may eye her strangely, but she can't help being petrified! The surface is dangerous, more dangerous than any beasts the Catacombs can think up! And she knows it's the fear talking but it's still right. The surface is no place for a festival!
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