[private] YOU'VE GOT TO BE SO COLD || SOCHI

[sochi]

SOCHI

She has never been particularly bothered by the cold.

Especially when she wears this form—her body turning heavy and feline, the coat thick and luxurious. In many ways, it is a relief to shift back into this, to wear the striped body that she has known since birth. It is hardier than her equine form, certainly, and she finds it more finely tuned to the winter. So it is how she travels today, the snow beneath her crunching lightly but the rest of the world pleasantly muffled.

She wishes that she could always feel this still.

That she could always hold onto this kernel of peace that she finds now.

Alas, despite the rather undisturbed waters of her personality, there was so much that raged beneath. So many emotions that she barely blinked at, let alone tried to dive in and discern. She was more content to simply let them rage—let them storm behind the ivory of her ribcage. There she kept her fury and her discontentment. Her confusion and frustration and the ever-present gnawing of her hunger.

She was so accustomed to it that she could forget it existed sometimes.

As though she simply lived within the eye of the storm.

Today is one of those days as she moves through the aftermath of the winter storm where she turns a blind eye to the catastrophic damage being wrought inside of her. She knows that she will likely have little success with any hunt today—not with the winter chill hanging in the air, the sound of silence echoing around her—but instead of finding a hunt, she finds something different. Her head snaps up when she hears the sound of someone enjoying their fill, feline eyes narrowing as she looks at him.

For a second, she doesn’t move at all—one heavy paw hanging suspended in the air—before she tilts her head and places it carefully back down. “I can’t imagine that tastes particularly good.”

She rolls a shoulder.

“Not that anything is particularly good this time of year.”

she said a war ain't a war before both sides bleed

@[Set]