Almost (Story in Description)
She had fallen.
The memory of the whole ordeal was hazy, but she remembered fighting clumsily along a narrow path leading up the side of a cliff. She remembered lunging madly at her attacker, snatching a stolen book from his grasp before the precipice suddenly shattered under a misspoken spell and the force of a ton of choking red earth and rock yanked them apart and hurled them downward.
Timothy always had a knack for knowing things. He knew that she had fallen, or would fall. She didn't remember who had found her, and the trip back was a haze of pain and seasickness muddied by the rumbled thrum of a boat's diesel engine as it ferried her quietly back up the coast and into the hands of friends.
Someone had cleaned off the grime, bandaged her, splint her broken leg, sewn the gashes shut, and then swaddled her in a blanket and put her in her familiar cot back in Timothy's shop.
She'd almost died. It wasn't a guess or an assumption; it was fact. Despite her high risk lifestyle and her tendency to get injured from time to time, this didn't happen very often. She'd gotten good at staying alive and didn't have a great many 'almosts' in her past anymore. And she couldn't remember the last time it had been from a simple stupid mistake or a stroke of bad luck.
She was also surprised at how indifferent she felt about it. No relief, no fear, no expectation. She just felt tired. It felt as if she'd lost a piece of herself. An important piece.
There were times when she took suicidal risks, or lost track of herself in fits of rage and didn't care if she lived. Other times when she was overly cautious and hesitant. Sometimes she'd get hurt badly, but her rate of self-preservation was still a hundred percent.
She pulled the blanket up and burrowed into it, hoping to convince herself that it was all just because she was tired, and that she'd feel better after a little rest.
From a series of short stories I'm working on, this is the first. Copic marker and gelpen on 4x6 postcard.
Since I'm busy tending to Irvine tonight, I thought I'd give you this.
The memory of the whole ordeal was hazy, but she remembered fighting clumsily along a narrow path leading up the side of a cliff. She remembered lunging madly at her attacker, snatching a stolen book from his grasp before the precipice suddenly shattered under a misspoken spell and the force of a ton of choking red earth and rock yanked them apart and hurled them downward.
Timothy always had a knack for knowing things. He knew that she had fallen, or would fall. She didn't remember who had found her, and the trip back was a haze of pain and seasickness muddied by the rumbled thrum of a boat's diesel engine as it ferried her quietly back up the coast and into the hands of friends.
Someone had cleaned off the grime, bandaged her, splint her broken leg, sewn the gashes shut, and then swaddled her in a blanket and put her in her familiar cot back in Timothy's shop.
She'd almost died. It wasn't a guess or an assumption; it was fact. Despite her high risk lifestyle and her tendency to get injured from time to time, this didn't happen very often. She'd gotten good at staying alive and didn't have a great many 'almosts' in her past anymore. And she couldn't remember the last time it had been from a simple stupid mistake or a stroke of bad luck.
She was also surprised at how indifferent she felt about it. No relief, no fear, no expectation. She just felt tired. It felt as if she'd lost a piece of herself. An important piece.
There were times when she took suicidal risks, or lost track of herself in fits of rage and didn't care if she lived. Other times when she was overly cautious and hesitant. Sometimes she'd get hurt badly, but her rate of self-preservation was still a hundred percent.
She pulled the blanket up and burrowed into it, hoping to convince herself that it was all just because she was tired, and that she'd feel better after a little rest.
From a series of short stories I'm working on, this is the first. Copic marker and gelpen on 4x6 postcard.
Since I'm busy tending to Irvine tonight, I thought I'd give you this.
Category Artwork (Traditional) / General Furry Art
Species Housecat
Size 904 x 600px
File Size 582.7 kB
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