literature

CC Round 3 - Part 1

Deviation Actions

Kittysaysmeow-WQ's avatar
Published:
380 Views

Literature Text

Cold, the tenacious bastard we all know and love, woke Ronnie from her fitful slumber, chasing away dreams of horror. She stared up the makeshift roof, waiting until her panicked gasps subsided into panting whimpers.

Antonio remained asleep, gently snoring, still with his look of complacent triumph plastered onto his face. He hardly even moved as she slid out from their shelter, leaving him snuggling his face into Mook. Ronnie decided to allow this, after all, he wasn't really doing any sort of harm.

But she would have to hit him for drooling.

As she exited the box, she allowed herself a smile. She had always loved this cool weather; it didn't make her overheat. While the sun was shining and the wind was still, it was the perfect temperature. The air was crisp and even though she felt her double coat tapping in her warmth, a bit of cold still worked its way through onto her skin.

The briskness of the entire atmosphere made her feel rejuvenated, and indeed excited. It was an odd feeling, as most of her time in Pripyat she had been covered in clouds and rain. The majority of the weather previous to the Tournament had been nondescript, though occasionally in winter, the clouds would belch out a snowstorm or two.

But now.

But now.

Now it was deliciously cold, perfect. Her paws carried her forwards, spurring her into movement. Pavement stretched on into forever, all through the hills, over the plains, racing beside the steppes, between the mountains, past the horizon, all the way back home. Her paws raced, slapping against the frozen pavement as she sprinted south out of Pripyat. She was going to do it. She was going to go home.

Nothing kept her in Pripyat. How naïve she was! Who was keeping her here? Beyra? She'd be happy she had left. One less cat to herd. The Fratelli? They had pushed her to this in the first place.

With each revelation, she ran faster, gaining speed until she swore she could touch the sky, she was flying on such broad wings. No one was making her stay!  She didn't need any of them! Only the air she breathed. Everything would be okay. She'd made it here, damned if she couldn't make it back! Antonio hadn't even woken up—

Antonio.

She couldn't leave him. Not for any sort of loyalty to him. Hell no. It was just repayment. He'd tell everyone that she'd snuck off. She'd just bring him with and then get him lost. He would be okay. He wasn't stupid, as much as she'd like to believe it. It was just something her father said was called 'selective thinking'.

Then again, he'd said selectively thinking dogs were stupid, too.

Her flight had taken her up to the edge of Pripyat. Beyond was the empty, ice-slick road that might lead somewhere.

But was anywhere necessarily better than Pripyat?

She'd be travelling in avalanche season over the Alps with no provisions, company or an idea of where she was going.

She was determined.

Not stupid.

The now heart-stopping sound of paws on pavement caused her to whirl around like a dervish strung by a bee the size of a jumbo jet. A confused-looking dog was standing there.

The most exciting thing about him was his astounding lack of defining features. Look up "Edward P. Hoover" in the phone book, then choose the third one who lives in his mother and works part time as a tech support and has a college Ph. D. in being normal and you have a pretty good idea of what this guy looked like.

"You's a competitor?"

"So what if I am?"

"Ice storms a-comin'. Might wanna collect yerself and git on over to the Gymnasium," he mumbled, in a clearly rehearsed way.

Totally unlike tech support.

"I don't smell anything," she replied tartly, though still a bit cautious about how rude she was being.

Beyra might be a gruff character, but she's certainly not going to let anything mess up this Tournament. She's demonstrated that multiple times. And she definitely has more experience in this department..

"Well.. alright then. Thank you. I'll be sure to make my way over."

"Bless your heart. You's not arguing or nothin'. Bless your heart," he smiled, revealing a gap-toothed grin. His breath smelled like the aftermath of a group of teenage girls had raided the perfume department and tried every single fragrance. And not in a good way.

"Yes, indeed. I'll need it."

--
YAAAAYY

Deadline eve!

Presents for everyone!

Except for me because I'm a bad child
© 2012 - 2024 Kittysaysmeow-WQ
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In