Poofle Doofle Fuzz 
Post by Macabre on Nov 21, 2015 16:21:41 GMT -6
“
CHOKE SOFTLY FROM THE POETRY
Macabre flinched unnoticeable as his small black paw set foot on the dusty floor of the plans, his long tail lashing in hopes that it would keep the dust a decent distance from his scruffy black pelt. A first few flakes of snow had finally began to float peacefully to the ground, either to stay and participate in painting the plains a crisp white, only to be brutally crushed by the paws of the mortal.
"Snow." The ragged feline stated to nobody in particular, hoping that the hallucinations would come back bearing company or the very thing they had named him after; macabre. They weren't returning and that scared the feline. Then again, it has become irrelevant to the feline that sleep and awakened were in fact different things- making it most likely that these 'hallucinations' were actually dreams that were merely there to haunt his unconcious form, rather than the fully responsive.
Crunch. A patch of snow and ice shattered beneath a long clawed paw, the sound echoing lightly, only audible to close lifeforms- but even they'd have to have pretty large audits for it to be noticeably existent. Rather than just an unnoticed existence- alike Macabre had been ever since his small shaking body was brought into the world over two leaf bares ago.
Macabre shook his head, unhappy to be recollected compressed memories that were unfortunately inevitable to forget. With another quick lash of his tassle, another black paw was set forward, the contrast between his paws colour and that of the almost blinding white snow sending unnecessary chills up Macabre spine.
A thought suddenly sprang to mind: 'Why am I here'. It was one question with two meanings; why did Macabre become a living entity. And why was this living entity in the plains. He decided on searching for other mortal contact that he was certain were tangible and not figures of his wondrous imagination.
"Hello?" Macabre called out, the echo of his voice sending more chills down his spine, these ones chills of fear. The silence was almost eerie and made the feline feel isolated from the rest of his species. It made him question whether they were real or simply the essence of possible upcoming insanity.
"Who's there?" He whispered, not wanting to be heard, yet also not directing his words to himself.
Note- my posts are never this long so expect short replies. I just wasted every single last drop of my muse on this.
"Snow." The ragged feline stated to nobody in particular, hoping that the hallucinations would come back bearing company or the very thing they had named him after; macabre. They weren't returning and that scared the feline. Then again, it has become irrelevant to the feline that sleep and awakened were in fact different things- making it most likely that these 'hallucinations' were actually dreams that were merely there to haunt his unconcious form, rather than the fully responsive.
Crunch. A patch of snow and ice shattered beneath a long clawed paw, the sound echoing lightly, only audible to close lifeforms- but even they'd have to have pretty large audits for it to be noticeably existent. Rather than just an unnoticed existence- alike Macabre had been ever since his small shaking body was brought into the world over two leaf bares ago.
Macabre shook his head, unhappy to be recollected compressed memories that were unfortunately inevitable to forget. With another quick lash of his tassle, another black paw was set forward, the contrast between his paws colour and that of the almost blinding white snow sending unnecessary chills up Macabre spine.
A thought suddenly sprang to mind: 'Why am I here'. It was one question with two meanings; why did Macabre become a living entity. And why was this living entity in the plains. He decided on searching for other mortal contact that he was certain were tangible and not figures of his wondrous imagination.
"Hello?" Macabre called out, the echo of his voice sending more chills down his spine, these ones chills of fear. The silence was almost eerie and made the feline feel isolated from the rest of his species. It made him question whether they were real or simply the essence of possible upcoming insanity.
"Who's there?" He whispered, not wanting to be heard, yet also not directing his words to himself.
Note- my posts are never this long so expect short replies. I just wasted every single last drop of my muse on this.
