Username: SurgeFire
Name: Dustfoot
Gender: trans male
Rank: Warrior
Clan: AsterClanPrompt:▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
"and i've caught up to you." her eyes glinted maliciously, drawing her eyes closer to his defeated form. "you coward. you never deserved to make it this far. and now i have you, in my very own grasp."
"shut up." he muttered, drawing himself closer to the tree nearest him leveling himself on the trunk behind him. "and yes. i know your snappy responses. this is all i have. futile," he grunted, "because you never do."
"you know me all too well, my dear." she hissed, drawing closer. "it was your mistake to fight to destroy us. do you remember this? from my days as a kittypet? ‘find it all too fitting." she drew a heavy breath, and prepared her claws-- "from dust you came, and to dust you shall return!"
claw marks bore on the tree behind him; etched with blood down, until the very last one only contained a speck.
satisfied, she drew away; the triumphant glow in her eyes blazed through the enshrouding darkness.
it was a gaze that rivaled only the sun in intensity; he shivered, unsure if it was due to the surrounding coldness of death or to her sharp glare.
perhaps it was both.
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(this is a gif. if you missed it, refresh; on mobile just press+hold the image, refreshing does not work-- neither does going back then going forward. second gif is down below, with “and it was so.”)
a cold darkness shrouded his frame; he struggled, fighting the current of iciness; coldness was associated with death, but was he supposed to feel? if he no longer had a mortal body, why was it so... cold?
something wasn't right. and he knew it, terror enshrouding his spirit. why was he subject to this?
"this ancestor is neutral."
a cold, long forest stretched out before him; lost, he took one shaky step. satisfied the earth wasn't immediately going to swallow him (as all cats naturally feel... for one reason or another), he took another, calling out to whoever would be there, with a meek, "hello?"
and no response met his, and he shrank away.
the misty forest seemed like it could extend... forever, he presumed, and this was a terrifying prospect; what had he done to deserve this so? this cold, neglected regret?
no, he mustn't let his thoughts consume him; he padded forward, lost in his mind.
cold-- dark-- what is this hell? what is this cold, frozen hell of a place; the icicles of fear that had pierced his stomach had already frozen, stuck in place... stayed so long in this environment, he'd been accustomed to the ordeal. how long had it been-- a day? two days? many days? and yet no ounce of exhaustion crept in his bones; forced to move on in an unfamiliar land.
"and if only starclan could hear my words." he whispered; he knew nobody would hear, but the sense of... talking, to himself, made him nervous - he couldn't lose all sanity, not out here... "i solemnly regret what i've done-- please!"
he heard paws crunching in the snow-- whirling his head around, his heart burst in joy over the prospect of finding another; yet the sight made him flinch-- a
shadow?
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and how could a shadow, a vessel of unholy darkness-- be so... solid? "who are you?" he breathed, cream pelt trembling in fear. and he didn't even know if death was possible, or even preferred; would pain be better than this... torment? he shook his fur.
it extended its paw.
"and what does that mean?" the wind whipped his pelt further.
"i suppose..." he looked around. "if it means escaping from this isolation."
he extended his paw.
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"and look! why, she looks
frostbitten." the queen curled her tail around the mewling kit. "look at that black ear— and her tail! why, she's such a pretty one."
(here before-- vashti bunyan)
and such was so.
"there is a legend, of the reincarnated souls; they say how the frost of the afterlife tinges their fur, and darkens them with the memory of the past; these are the lost souls, these are the ones who came before."

...
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(what i sent is part of my entry; not linking it here because... i don't want to end on someone's cringe comp)