Maea
And I only needed one more touch
Another taste of devouring rush
Another taste of devouring rush
A rumble followed her path across the crusted surface of the lava. The ground swayed and fractured beneath her paws, leaving a trail of glowing pawprints in her wake as she approached the edge of a pool. Spine reflex warred against her body's response to the sweltering heat, sending conflicting messages to a mind fogged over by exhaustion. On one hand her eyes told ger that touching this churning liquid was to die. On the other, her body ached to plunge in, the same way she would have yearned for a hot bath.
Carefully, a large paw extended and just barely nudged the surface of the lava. When it didn't hurt her any more than walking across the sweltering landscape had, she dipped the paw again, and found the sensation completely different from touching water.
Gingerly easing herself off the edge, there was a moment of panic when she found no bottom and her head sank beneath the surface. Thrashing and struggling to stay afloat, globules of viscous liquid splashed as the struggled to reach a ledge; there she clambered on with a death grip, breath only gradually slowing when she realized she wasn't about sink. The liquid was too dense, closing in around her like a crushing embrace. Tight, hot, lethal - except shewasn't dying.
It was the heat that made her relax. It seeped into her bones, drawing out tension and lingering cold in a series of shudders, until the molten tiger eased away from the crag she'd been clinging to, and settled her chin more comfortably on the rim. Closing pale golden eyes against the monotonous landscape, a glow lingered against her eyelids and to her relief the churning, rumbling sound emitted by the lava drowned out most of the intrusive thoughts. It was the closest to calm she had come for weeks, and despite herself Maea fell into a light doze, exhaustion winning out against restless anxiety that had kept her moving, blind to hunger and pain until finally she could wander no more.
Carefully, a large paw extended and just barely nudged the surface of the lava. When it didn't hurt her any more than walking across the sweltering landscape had, she dipped the paw again, and found the sensation completely different from touching water.
Gingerly easing herself off the edge, there was a moment of panic when she found no bottom and her head sank beneath the surface. Thrashing and struggling to stay afloat, globules of viscous liquid splashed as the struggled to reach a ledge; there she clambered on with a death grip, breath only gradually slowing when she realized she wasn't about sink. The liquid was too dense, closing in around her like a crushing embrace. Tight, hot, lethal - except shewasn't dying.
It was the heat that made her relax. It seeped into her bones, drawing out tension and lingering cold in a series of shudders, until the molten tiger eased away from the crag she'd been clinging to, and settled her chin more comfortably on the rim. Closing pale golden eyes against the monotonous landscape, a glow lingered against her eyelids and to her relief the churning, rumbling sound emitted by the lava drowned out most of the intrusive thoughts. It was the closest to calm she had come for weeks, and despite herself Maea fell into a light doze, exhaustion winning out against restless anxiety that had kept her moving, blind to hunger and pain until finally she could wander no more.
But the room was so quiet
Whose side am I on?
Whose side am I on?
