Flo's Challenge to me

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"Please, stay with me."
197 words
The creak of a floorboard. The rustle of fabric. It was barely a sound, barely enough reason for Darkmoon to lift her eyes from the book.
She startled to find her daughter standing so close to her, tired blue eyes streaming with tears.

"What's wrong?" Darkmoon asked softly, setting her book aside without bothering to mark her place.

"I had another nightmare," Shyshie croaked, blinking blearily up at her mother.

"Oh sweetheart," Darkmoon opened her arms and pulled Shyshie into her lap "Are you okay? Do you want some tea?"

"No," Shyshie's reply was muffled as she buried her face in Darkmoon's shoulder "Can I sleep in your room?"
"Of course," Darkmoon tucked Shyshie's ankles into the crook of her elbow and lifted the little girl up.

"I'm just going to change real quick," Darkmoon whispered as she set Shyshie down on the bed. Shyshie murmured quietly and curled her tail over her nose.
By the time Darkmoon had slipped into a nightgown and run a brush through her fur, Shyshie was breathing evenly but her face was still tearstained and worried.

Darkmoon sighed heavily as she laid down and pulled the blankets over both of them.
(Written in 2018)

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"The show must go on..."
610 words
"He was called the Stormcaller, a chosen one."
"Chosen by who?" Shyshie asked in a muted voice, turning her head from the painting towards Ossi Pri.
The Ocean Princess curled her lip up into a smile "By me."
Shyshie took a step back to regard the ethereal being in nervous silence.
Blue eyes met blue eyes and neither blinked.
"Why did you bring me here, Ossi?" Shyshie asked, her words curling out as a puff in air that had suddenly gone cold.
The Ocean Princess took a step forwards, closing the gap Shyshie had created "It's been a long time, Starwalk, a long time since there was Stormcaller to protect the coast, a long time since the coast needed a Stormcaller to protect it."
Shyshie didn't step back again, but she cringed, her fingers worrying the beads around her wrist "I don't understand."
"It's time, for the tradition to continue. It's time for the staff to be wielded again," Ossi Pri's voice rose until it filled the the entire space with a roiling tension. She did not move but she seemed taller now her shadow stretching further along the stone floor.
"I want to go home now."
"Do you?" Ossi Pri smiled "Do you really Shyshie Starwalk? This isn't without benefits to you. You would wield a force hardly comprehensible to any mortal. I could give you many things, nearly anything you want."
"No, no," Shyshie began actively backing away "No, I don't want anything from you Ossi, go away, go away!"
But Ossi Pri did not leave, the cold stone cavern did not fade and Shyshie turned and bolted towards the opening that leaked moonlight into the dark. Her paws slipped and scrabbled as she tried to find a grip against the algae slick floor, the sea was beyond the ragged opening.
The sea, restless and tossing.
The sea.
And Shyshie was trapped.
She turned to face the overwhelming presence of The Ocean Princess who only grew as the child looked on.
"I am not one to be denied lightly," the Princess' voice shook the very trembling air "I could give you anything, fame, wealth, acclaim," then her fervor shrank to a whisper "Your coat, your mother."
"No! Liar!" Shyshie clamped her paws over her ears and screamed "You aren't real! You can't give me anything! Go away! Go away!"
The pressure of the rising wind abated and Shyshie risked opening her eyes, dreading and hoping.
The Princess still stood before her, shadows twisting and writhing, eyes dark and face blank.
"You will reconsider," she droned hollowly and extended her paw, something glinting in her white fur "When you do, spill your blood into the sea."
Shyshie tried to push the knife away by the flat of the blade but the Princess forced it into her grip nonetheless an icy smile on her pretty face.
"Good night Starwalk," She stepped back and before Shyshie had a chance to drop the blade Ossi had snapped her fingers and the cavern, the sea, the carved figures on the wall, all faded away, swallowed up by dark.
----
Shyshie sat upright in the bed, blanket tangled around her shoulders and for a moment all she could do was stare around her room as she tried to catch her breath.
A dream, she tried to console herself, nothing more than a dream.
Then she noticed her fingers ached and her hands where clutched to her chest.
Resisting the temptation to screw her eyes shut and ignore everything around her, Shyshie extended her arms from beneath the blanket and uncurled her fingers.
In the pale glimmer of dawn the knife shone with a rosy tint.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"Just one more day, please..."
642 words
"Oh good you're here!" Coe was greeted cheerfully by Galino as he stepped aboard the Lune del Mar "The Captain's real excited like about something, sounds like we're casting off sooner than expected."
"Thank you Galino," Coe said curtly "I'll report in right away."
The coyote bobbed his head then disappeared into the haze of early morning light but Stepstone did not move save to worry the edge of the envelope he held.
Doing things he didn't want to had started to come naturally to him. Still, to have signed his name at the bottom of the now folded sheet of paper had stung.
But there was no helping it. There was no helping the knot in his stomach either or the feverish pulse of his blood but both where old friends by now.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Shoulders straight.
Chin up.
He was moving forwards before he could even think to worry over his choice once more. His feet carried him forwards as his numb heart tried to protest and his mind stayed static, as it had been since the night before.
His eyes took in the door and his hand raised to rap politely. There was no answer, but if what Galino had said was true then he shouldn't have been expecting one.
Teeth gritted as cold doubt tugged at him, Coe wrapped his unoccupied hand, his mangled hand, around the doornob and let himself into the room.
Martin was there, of course. A map spread across his desk and a pile of papers and books and instruments on the floor next to it. Apparently swept off in the captain's hurry to make room for his newest finding.
Coe cleared his throat quietly and Martin looked up from the parched thing, eyes bright.
"Finally!" he shoved back his chair and shot to his feet with far more enthusiasm than Coe had felt in his entire life "We're off at noon, I need you to help me get everything in order."
"Sir I-"
"That tip finally panned out, I told you it would," Martin gestured broadly at the map "Look! The desert in all her gritty details."
Coe had to appreciate the map, it certainly appeared more than thorough.
"It is impressive, Captain-"
"It is finally happening!" Martin clapped him on the shoulder then slipped around him to the door "And you where right all along."
And then he was gone, like Galino, out into the morning, oblivious.
Coe grit his teeth and drew in a sharp breath as he tried to steady himself.
His eyes were drawn back to the map, then across the desk to the open journal and the ink drying on the pages.
He couldn't make out the words. Martin's script always degenerated terribly when he was excited. Something about the keen familiarity of it made Coe's forced even rhythm of breath tilt off kilter and he found himself trying not to gasp for air.
He was suddenly aware of how he knew every detail of the room, it was disheveled, as it always had been and that fact irked him, but to think he'd never wade through the mess in search of the crew roster had his eyes burning.
His hand began to clench and the edge of the envelope crumpled beneath the force. This wasn't for him.
This wasn't his choice.
He looked back at the map and he felt... cold.
His captain, ship, and crew, where poised to go flying off to the literal end of the earth. Without him.
He swallowed and forced his grip to relax.
Doing things he didn't want to do came naturally most days.
Not today.
Jaw set and eyes unfocused, Stepstone Coe folded the envelope into a neat square and tucked it into his pocket.
Just...one more day.
One more journey.
One more adventure.
He owed it them.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"What can I say... you're welcome."

1,168 words

This first thing Shyshie knew was the hard ground pressing against her face, the earth filling up her nose and threatening to suffocate her.
The second thing she knew was the blazing pain as it ripped through her when she tried to lift her head. Her muscles locked and spasmed as she tried to bear the fiery black sensation without screaming.
It was almost too much but just when she thought her teeth would shatter in her mouth from being gritted so tightly, the pain began to ease away until it left her spent and panting, still prone on the ground.
She lay still, simply grateful that her frantic, foolish attempt had succeeded. Distantly she could hear the sea.

But closer, there was another rhythmic sound that was not quite so soothing. Rougher and raggeder, someone was breathing close beside her.
Slowly, against the exhaustion that had set in after the pain, she turned her head, eyes slitting open as she tried to catch a glimpse of the stranger.
Their silhouette was crouched close above her and blank eyes stared down at her, meeting her gaze as she turned but never blinking.

Swallowing against a dry throat, Shyshie slowly leveraged herself upright as her entire body protested, until she was panting for air on her knees. The dark figure never moved.

"Who..." Shyshie croaked, her voice catching in her throat as she tried to speak "Who are you?"

There was no answer, just the continued labored breathing.
With a grunt the young cat struggled to her feet and stepped away, her eyes scanning the landscape. She wasn't where she had collapsed, but had been moved away from the flat shore to the shelter of a few small sad dunes, presumably by the staring stranger.

"Who are you?" she tried again and this time received an answer, not from the stranger them self, but from behind.

"Why Starwalk!" Ossi Pri's voice rang out, startlingly loud in the previous still "For shame! Don't you recognize your own mother?"

Shyshie froze, heart pulsing its way up to her throat as the stranger lifted her head and recognition struck Shyshie like a thunderbolt.

"No," the denial shuddered out of her and she spun to stare at the Ocean Princess "This is another one of your dreams, my mother is dead, I saw it."

"Oh, but did you really?" Ossi Pri has a smile that was sickly sweet "Remember dear old Horeth? Never could find him afterwards hm?"

"What are you talking about?" Shyshie hissed, her ears flattening back and anger pushing through her tired body.
"Sweet old soul didn't realize you had gotten off the ship and went down to try to help. He didn't find you of course, but your mother wasn't quite as gone as you had thought."

Shyshie was shivering as though her veins had ice water in them instead of blood, the Ocean Princess either did not take notice or care.

"Almost drowned and almost bled out entirely, Horeth did the only thing he could think of. Dear fool, its been so long not even he remembered."
Shyshie waited for her to finish, but the drawn out expectancy in the white cat prompted her to ask "What? What is it?"

"Tch what a sharp tone," Ossi flicked wrist as if to dismiss Shyshie's attitude "But there were more reasons that the selkies separated themselves from the society at large than the recorded ones. A selkie's song can heal the body and sooth a soul, but its a potent thing, like too much wine it dims the mind, drains the reason from a person. In a wound that ought to have been fatal a song can heal the body but it breaks the mind, as such what happened to her."

Shyshie forced herself to tear her gaze from the Princess to the broken thing that had to, just had to be a part of her imagination, a figment of a fever dream.
"I can't bring back the dead, but I can bring back your mother," the dust danced as Ossi's feet appeared to touch the ground "I can restore her mind."

"This is a trick," Shyshie pivoted, planting fists on her hips and swallowing hard "You're inside my head again. Or I've just made this all up myself."

"Are you going to risk that?" Ossi asked with laughter in her voice and lightening in her eyes, she stretched out a hand ran her fingers against the ragged, dirty fur of Darkmoon's face "You can say no and you can walk away and you will keep walking and walking. Today becomes tomorrow becomes the day after until you realize this isn't a dream and you aren't going to wake up and you will live with this," she gestured to the whole of the ragged creature before her and it didn't so much as flinch "Though on the bright side I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. Look at her! She's nowhere nearly as worried as she was before, you always did wish she was a little more laid back didn't you?"

"This is a dream, you couldn't know that, there's no way you could know that about me," Shyshie felt a well of things she didn't want to face press up inside of her chest and she resisted the urge to lunge at Ossi and sink her claws into the misty form.
Ossi shook her head "You underestimate me Starwalk and it stings, it really does. Ah well, it's almost dawn, your aunts will find you soon," she turned and began to fade as gray light crept over the horizon "You know I really do think I like my mortals more like her, all hollow and empty, it really is beautiful, like a seashell!"

Shyshie reached out and plucked at a ragged sleeve as the world began to turn golden.
The only reaction she managed to draw from the blank creature was a slight tilt of her head.
Shyshie stared hard into the set of yellow eyes, a far paler color than she remembered. As the sun rose and the rays reached across her back, warming her, Shyshie realized she was wrong.

"Wait!"

She spun, arms reaching out, hands grasping at the nothing "Princess! Wait! Come back!"
The Ocean Princess stopped and glanced over her shoulder with a knowing look.

"I'll do it," Shyshie swallowed against the bitterness of the words on her tongue and dug her hand into her pocket "I'll do it."

She withdrew the the silver knife the Princess had given her and held her hands out in front of her. slowly pressing the cold edge against her palm "I'll do it. Just, please, bring her back."
"Well go on then, I have forever but you don't," Ossi gestured impatiently "Prove your conviction and I'll give you what you wish."

Shyshie pulled several rapid breathes and then slid the harsh tip through her skin.

The Ocean Princess smiled as the first drop of blood hit the ground.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"Did you just..."
137 words
"A knife!"
"No!"
"It's got a wooden handle so it can float. Because, y'know," Rusty gestured vaugly "selkie."
"Rusty Hugo Avelline!" Darkmoon's voice grew with every word "You can not give knives to children!"
"Well, I mean she's not really a kid anymore," the fox squirmed beneath Darkmoon's blazing glare "she's just...short."
There was silence as the irate mother continued to glare, broken only by Martin and Lily's strangled laughter. Stepstone wore only a look of longsuffering while Shyshie marvled over her gift.
Rusty looked like he wished he could melt.
Finally when she managed to wrangle her temper into submission, Darkmoon leaned over and snatched the offensive item from Shyshie.
"Aw but Mama!"
"When you're older," Darkmoon said in a voice that just dared Shyshie to even try and argue with her "Now, who wants cake?"

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"I am a literary heretic."
744 words

Kif's footsteps echoed in the ancient air, disrupting a stillness that once broken collapsed around in him in a storm that was invisible yet heavy. The stone beneath his feet was damp and the walls of the cavern dripped with living water, but the tiger didn't pause to wash the blood from his hands or sword as he wound his way up to a old and broken stone platform that was raised before a curtain of of flowing water and dripping cave plants.
Setting his stained blade aside Kif knelt, his clothes instantly soaking up the stray moisture pooled on the floor, but he did not bother to shake it out.
Instead from his travelling kit he withdrew a rod of incense and burner and set it in front of him before lighting it.
It would have been polite to close his eyes as the smoke drifted through the humid air, but Kif kept his gaze set dead ahead, steel in the set of his brow.
His expression didn't flicker even as the curtain before him did. A form twisted and darkened behind the waterfall as the smoke rose higher and higher.
Then it parted, pulled back by unseen fingers as a massive head leaned down from the darkness and Kif was pinned beneath fiery eyes.
He didn't flinch as the dragon's long body curled and slid in and out of view continuously and a breath of scorching air blasted over him.
"What do you want, tiger?" The stones shivered as they spoke and chills ran down Kif's neck and shoulders, but he refused to shake "For what arrogance have you come to plead with me?"
"White Dragon I come because I have been wronged," Kif replied, his voice not so deep nor commanding, but equally icy "My children have been taken from me, their lifes extinguished. I know full well that there is no reclaiming flown souls, but as the keeper of the list of all names you know where their bodies rest. I beg of you to return them to me so that I and their mother may bury them properly?"
"You come to me decrying a wrong done to you yet you have spilled blood on this day and not even bothered to have the decency to wash it from your body or blade or even to give the dead the basic honor of what you beg for your own children," the dragon's voice grew like oncoming thunder "You come here to me pleading justice when you yourself have become an instrument of cruelty.
The dragon reached out and clamped a forefoot down on the edge of the platform, each needle sharp claw longer and thicker than Kif's forearm and the tiger found himself inches from the gaping maw of the White Dragon.
Steam leaked from the corners of her mouth as she spoke, this time the very water was set dancing in the air from her tone "A father robbing of his children. A child robbed of his father. A balance brought about by the breaking of things in the pursuit of power. You cannot deny Kif, that this was brought about by you."
"No!" Kif bolted to his feet, sweeping up his sword as his stony expression melted into one of rage "This is not my doing! None of this is my doing! I would never take any path that would cause harm to my family."
The claws dug into the stone at Kif's feet, cracking it as the White Dragon's long body curled and thrashed "Fool," she spat, her sulfur breath shaking Kif "You dare raise your blade to me? You are nothing more than a bloodthirsty mindless beast! If you give any worth to the family you have left then discard the path you walk down."
There was a moment of silence as Kif stared upwards, the fire in his eyes almost equaling that of the dragon's.
"No."
"Then you will loose everything, even at the moment you believe you have gained your every desire," the Dragon spat the words, the disdain obvious as she began to retreat behind the waterfall.
"No!" Kif bellowed "Come back! Tell me where my daughters are!" he flung his sword down in rage but the Dragon was gone.
"Give them to me!" he shouted into the mist "Give me my children and retract your words!"
He screamed into open dark air, howling curses and blood dripping rage.
All to no avail.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"Seriously, who ate my tart?!"
181 words
Front paws crossed and chin rested on her wrists Freeta laid on her stomach staring at the plate in front of her.
"Touch it and I'll eat your toes," she warned the fingers crawling up the side of the table.
Abruptly the hand disappeared and the skitter of claws signaled the would-be thief's retreat.
"Aren't you going to eat it?"
Freeta flicked an ear at the otter standing in the doorway "When I'm good and ready."
"I told you not to fill up on sugar cubes," Lionel chided as he clattered into the kitchen and began to clink and clunk through his pots and pans.
"Shut up," she grumbled, tucking her ears back and closing her eyes, preparing for a nap.
"I'm not watching your tart for you," Lionel called as her eyes drooped shut "If it's gone when you wake up it's not my fault."
Freeta ignored him.
Her tart was gone when she woke up, only a trail of crumbs left.
"Someone inheirited your sweettooth," as Freeta rolled to her feet Lionel plopped down a sticky, jam encrusted Lyra.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"I can't even."
677 words
Shyshie breaths came sharp and staccato as she clutched her paws against her chest and tried to fight off the overwhelming sense of panic that had set into her with teeth like winter. Her eyes squeezed shut and she rocked back and forth, trying to ease the tightness in her stomach that had her heaving with nothing to heave up.
Try, try, try to focus, on something, anything, other than the sweat trickling down through the fur on the back of her neck or the chills that raced down her arms.
Try to focus on the rug beneath her toes, on the weight of her coat spread over her shoulders. Try to distract herself from the fear by worrying the beads on her bracelet.
It didn't... it wasn't working.
Tears ran down her face and hit the rug leaving dark ugly splotches in the clean rug.
There was nothing there. No burning ship, no vengeful pirates with a blade, but her heart pounded as if the sea was rushing up to swallow her up.
One gasp after another and the sensations never ease. One moment after another and the night gave way to dawn by degrees, but the sun showing its face did nothing to chase away the terrors.
Shyshie shut her eyes and curled in on herself tighter, even as the pain in her stomach tightened.
There was nothing there. She chanted it to herself over and over, but her lips only formed the words, her mind never accepted them.
"Starwalk?" Her mother's voice, raw and rough still from sleep, drew the young cat from the cycle of trying to calm herself down only to collapse harder into the panic.
She looked up from her place between the bookcase and the fireplace, sharply aware of just how damp her face was and how harshly her eyes stung.
"Are you hurt?" Darkmoon was on her knees, reaching out for her daughter even as Shyshie went rigid beneath her touch.
Darkmoon paused, bleary eyes narrowing as her brain began to register the scene in front of her.
"Oh," the black cat said softly and she leaned back a little "I see. I see."
She took a breath let it out in a pained sigh before holding her paws out, palms upwards "Come on starlight, its okay."
Biting down on her lip and feeling ashamed despite being unable to control the emotions that had swept against her like a tempest, Shyshie reached out hesitation and set the tips of her fingers in the center of her mother's hands.
Lightly Darkmoon cupped her paws, a strained worried smile touching the corners of her face "Remember what I told you?"
Shyshie scrambled for an answer, feeling as though there was definitely something she was forgetting but after a few seconds was forced to shake her head in defeat.
"Silver rope?"
Oh.
Oh yeah.
"I remember," she managed out past her own breathless lips "Sil...silver rope..."
"Silver rope save my soul, take my mind and keep it whole," Darkmoon reminded her of the near nonsense phrase gently "Come on, say it with me."
"Silver rope...save my soul," Shyshie fought to get the words past the tightness and the pounding of her heart "Soul..."
Darkmoon repeated the phrase and this time Shyshie managed to stumble over the entire thing. Darkmoon prompted her to try again and it flowed out smoother. Shyshie could sense the painful coil inside begin to release.
By the third time Shyshie's paws had crept away from Darkmoon's and instead were pressed flat against her mother's chest, seeking out the comforting beat of a warm heart that was safely inside an unbroken body.
"Silver rope save my soul, take my mind and keep it whole," the words came out easily now and Shyshie found that her tears had dried up.
She looked up and met her mother's eyes. Darkmoon nodded and with a grunt got to her feet, pulling Shyshie up with her.
"Tea?" She asked and Shyshie nodded before circling her arms around her mother in a tight hug.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"I just wanted you..."
572 words

Toes barely feeling like they were touching the wooden planks beneath her, Shyshie drifted towards the hammock strung up in the musty corner of the bunkroom that had become a more stable home than she had previously known in her short life.
Darkmoon sat in the sagging canvas, legs dangling, her heels brushing against the wood, paws clamped on the brim of her hat in a death grip. Her head was bowed, and her eyes shut and apparently, she was too lost in thought to hear what little noise Shyshie did make as she approached.
The young cat stared upwards at her for a moment, waiting to be acknowledged. When nothing more happened then Darkmoon releasing a quiet breath and readjusting her hold on her hat, Shyshie decided to open her mouth. For a moment, she thought she had actual words to say, but they decided to all leave the second she tried to stir her tongue and all that made it out was a soft squeak.
It was enough though, because Darkmoon’s eyes opened immediately and she lifted her head to look down at Shyshie.
“Hi,” Shyshie said after a second of an impromptu staring contest.
“Hey,” Darkmoon quickly set the hat aside and cleared her throat quietly, as if there had been a lump that needed dislodging “You need something?”
Shyshie pursed her lips, trying to recapture the words that had so rudely abandoned her. She managed to nod her head, thankfully that wasn’t going anywhere.
Darkmoon reached out and slipped her paws under Shyshie’s shoulders. With barely a show of effort she lifted the girl up and sat her down aside her in the hammock “What’s wrong?”
Shyshie twisted her fingers all together as she curled up cross-legged and faced Darkmoon “Hi.”
Amusement tugged at the tiredness on Darkmoon’s face “Hi.”
“I heard you talking to Dee.”
The amusement slid away as quickly as it had crept up and Darkmoon began to speak, a furrow on her brow.
“You don’t have to do this,” Shyshie said, finding her words a little faster as she fixed her eyes on the hem of her dress “Dee said it’s dangerous for you to be my mother. I wouldn’t be mad if you want to stop. I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t want me.”
Several seconds of quiet passed before Shyshie glanced up. Darkmoon’s paw was pressed over her mouth and tears where gathering in the corners of her eyes as she stared down at Starwalk.
“Sweetheart no,” Darkmoon said, roughing away the moisture with the back of her hand “Dee wasn’t talking about me, she was talking about you, she said it was too dangerous for you.”
“Is she right?” Shyshie tilted her ears back, concerned and confused that what she had thought had apparently been wrong and not sure what to think of it.
“She is,” Darkmoon said with a hard swallow “It is too dangerous, much more dangerous than I thought, if I had any idea of what it would be like then…then I…”
“What?”
“I don’t know,” Darkmoon admitted with a shake of her head “I just… I just wanted you…”
“I want you too,” Shyshie said when Darkmoon didn’t finish the thought “I like you, I like you a lot.”
Darkmoon smiled, even though her tears where streaming now “I like you mon cheri, I love you. I love you and I want you to be safe.”

[TheSongOfTheStars]

"He's not breathing!"
286 words
There was no escape.
Cold, cold, cold as death.
There was no escape.
Each limb felt as heavy as the snow soaked sky in the depths of winter and her mind as slow as the shy silent spring trying to creep on quiet feet so not to incur the wrath of the razor frost.
And that spark of anger that flared so quickly was dying away as she felt her breath being stolen and her fight leeched straight from her bones.
There was no escape.
It would be easier, just to sleep. Easier just to drift further and further until she could no longer sense the chill.
There was no escape, how could there be, her limbs had been claimed by the ice, claimed by death.
Claimed by death, the vast empty agreed, but not dead.
What was that supposed to mean, she demanded of the dark, but no answer was forth coming.
Because of course not, that would be too simple, to simply be given an answer and let to rest.
Now her mind had a question and that little flicker, that pesky flame she could never shut up and no one else seemed to be able to douse seized on the mystery with frustrated curiosity.
How could she be claimed by death and not be dead, was that not the definition? What business did death have with the living? What claim could death have on a warm breathing body?
The cold had hooks sunk into her veins but she shook herself free from the cloying grasp and the drowsiness shattered as if it had been nothing more than a brittle twig.
The darkness began to dispel and Jade felt her lungs heave for air.