⇷—————————☾—————————⇸ Vérité told herself she liked stillness. That it was simpler, to be one unchanging thing in a forever-shifting expanse, than to join the world in its endless cycle. Stillness did not leave. Stillness did not hurt. And stillness meant that she'd never forget the pain that she caused when she was loved. She woke as the sun dipped over the horizon, as the chill of the wind swept through her fur. With the star-touched shadows, Vérité could hardly tell that the leaves were the color of flames instead of softer greens she had once found comfort in. The air in her clearing was cool, and the olive tree that marked her garden had begun losing its flowers to strange, dark fruit that the squirrels adored. Her beautiful yellow blossoms had turned white, like the flower she had made a promise too many moons ago. She gathered the seeds and planted them once more, even as the wind curled around her in silent offer. If she let the wind take them, she could relieve herself of the responsibility. Of the last fragile thing she still cared for. She ignored the wind, and turned to her stream instead. Her paws dipped into the water, the water cold and grounding beneath her thick fur. Just as it always had. Just as Vérité supposed it always would be. She allowed herself few constants in the world, but the cool embrace of wind and grounding chill of the water had always been a comfort. Even if the wind had changed slightly too. Leaves drifted down from above, slipping into the current that tugged at her paws, carried away without resistance. Vérité watched them until they vanished from sight. She did not follow. Vérité raised a paw, becoming still in the water before striking in a way she had practiced since that fateful day she'd first met Altesse. A fish was swept up in her paw, and sent flying towards the shore, flopping on the rocky banks before becoming still once more. She watched it for a long moment. Then, she picked it up and returned to the den. She could catch the sleeping shapes of her siblings. Honneur... and sometimes even Valeur. She didn't speak to them. Didn't dare, after what she'd done to Altesse. She'd protect them with her absence. She wouldn't allow whatever was wrong with her to hurt them too. Time continued to pass. Frost swept cruelly across the earth, striking the leaves from the trees and the blades of grass from the soil. The forest grew bare. The birds fell silent. Vérité wondered if the world was ending, watching the barren branches shift against a starlit sky. After all, what else could change everything so drastically. She spent nights huddled against the green of her flowers, protecting them the only way she knew how. The wind curled around her too, its whispers harsh and bitter. Perhaps it too, had forsaken her. The prey became scarce on land, but in the water, fish were no issue. Vérité kept hunting, getting better with each night... with each strike against the grounding chill of the water. She'd hurry back to the den, the cold feeling like ice in her paws, taking care to not disturb Honneur in her nest. Valeur was still there some nights, but more often he was gone too. Vérité said nothing. She had predicted it from the beginning. There was nothing left to say. And still, time continued to pass. One night, with the moon's glow high overhead, Vérité found herself stepping into a world so vastly different, that for a second she wondered if she was dead. That had to be the only explanation. Her feet crunched into the white under her paws, and cold bit through them. She crept to her garden, shaking out her paws as the cold tried to take them. Ice clung to her garden, gleaming under the light of the moon. She had built it carefully, moons before, coaxing stems from the soil with a patience she had never shown anything else. Now she returned to it each day, brushing snow from the wilted remains, loosening frozen dirt with quiet persistence. Nothing answered her efforts. Still, she came back the next day. Then the next. Stillness was easier than being her. The river froze. Late one night, Vérité had soaked up the comforting chill of the water and noticed that the current had slowed.
The next, it was gone entirely, locked beneath a smooth, unbroken sheet. Vérité stood at its edge, staring down at the pale shape of herself beneath the ice. She remained there until the cold numbed her paws, until the wind stiffened her fur and turned her breath to fog. She didn't dare cry. She hadn't dared do that for as long as she hadn't smiled. After that, she visited less often. The chill hollowed out the forest. The birds had fled first, and now the chittering of the squirrels had begun to grow quieter as well. The loudest sound became the wind, whispers turned to bitter howls. It sounded like it was grieving. Vérité grieved with it. Prey grew scarce. She hunted because she had to. She slept because there was nothing else to do. The days blurred together, indistinguishable from one another except for the slow changes of the snow underpaw. Sometimes she returned to the den and found it empty. Sometimes she left before anyone returned. She did not ask where they had gone. And cruelly, time continued onwards. When the thaw began, she only noticed by the change in wind. The howls began to die down. The squirrels began to chitter once more. And the water began to trickle down its path once more, slipping between fractures of ice. Snow receded into the earth, revealing the brittle remains of plants that had not survived the cold. Her garden had collapsed inward, its careful shapes reduced to fragments pressed into the mud. She stood there for a long time, looking down at it. Then she lowered herself beside it, curling her tail around her paws, and stayed until the sun's light began to creep over the horizon. Time continued to pass. Moons continued to pass. She hunted. She sat beside the river. She returned to the garden. She slept. The forest shifted around her, color returning in faint shades of green. Birds returned to the branches overhead. The river carved the same path it always had, unchanged by the months it had spent frozen. Vérité did not mark the day the ice had melted. She didn't mention the day the first new leaf had begun sprouting from her olive tree. She did not count how long it had been since she had spoken to Honneur or Valeur. Even as the world changed, her stillness was familiar. And so she remained. ⇷—————————☾—————————⇸ Yeah uhh... Vérité hasn't changed much in the 10 moons I've lowkey being neglecting her for. But luckily, that works with her character, because girlypop is desperate to convince herself she's content with this. Unfortunately for her, life cannot just be a repetition of the same cycles, and nature is a force that isn't always her friend. So uhh... prepare for her world to break into tiny little pieces. Characters: Vérité (@Silent-Melody) Music: The Lonely -- Christina Perry
