COLD NEW WORLD / joining

♛ BUT IF I HAD TO PERISH TWICE, I THINK I KNOW ENOUGH OF HATE TO SAY THAT DESTRUCTION ICE IS ALSO GREAT AND WOULD SUFFICE —

[div style="text-align:justify;width:48%;font-size:10pt;font-family:verdana"]For the first time, Felurian felt cold. It was perhaps an odd statement to note, but beforehand... She felt not the bite of the cold nor the heat of the sun. The land of the Fae was beautiful, captivating and pleasant. The people in the land, perhaps not so much. Every one of them was beautiful in their own way of course. As a people, Fae were charming and alluring and it was no surprise that when the mortals spoke of them, they painted them as monsters.

They were not monsters - none of them were monsters. Mortals simply feared them, as they should in Felurian's opinion, but she still loved them. They were fascinating, what they did with their short little lives! How their minds worked! She especially loved storytellers, singers, musicians. Men and women who wove words like they were weaving the finest of tapestries, painting the world in a brilliant light. She especially loved the songs about her, the stories about her beauty and her charm and her cunning.

Those stories had led to her doom, it seems.

It is why she finds herself in the land of the mortals, unable to return to the land of the Fae and she hurts. For the first time in forever, she cries and she bleeds. Her blood stains her pure white fur, a gash right over where her heart should be. She knows not where she is, but the large feline falls to floor with a cry. It hurts - and Felurian is not used to pain so it hurts even more.

She knows at that moment that she is no longer immortal. It hits like a cold shock, ice in her veins as she tries to examine why - what did she do to deserve this? She was nothing but kind to the mortals, she was nothing but sweet to the playthings that she took as lovers. It wasn't her fault that they would break eventually... That they would sometimes become boring and she would let them go, but they would go mad missing her. That wasn't her problem - they came to her of her own free will, didn't they?

Unable to move for the shock of it, Felurian waits for the pain to stop. She doesn't know what to do with the wound, doesn't know what death is. After all, she's never had to think about her own mortality before. Why should she have to consider it now?
#psychosocial.