Hearst felt the breeze simmering in the air even before the gust of wind began whipping at his cheek. The clear glass walls whirred, closing in on him at breakneck speed. He caught the eyes of the shrimp-eating capitol cat, who likened him to a shiny new toy gazing outside its box for some impossible notion of freedom. A scarlet balloon with a crudely-printed tree began to spiral up and about into the inverted abyss. Up, up, up, and here Hearst was- all the way down. The orbular contraption drifted to the top of the glass tube, swinging to and fro in an erratic waltz, meeting a familiar object snagged onto the metal rim of a grate. Hearst's heart thrummed, a camera shutter snapping backward. Was that what he thought it was...? Clover's red ribbon! A few feet away, the red ribbon flapped noisily against the grate, pulsing with the vent's constant noise. Wind ripped at Hearst's jaw. Tied snugly onto the vent, even the intrepid turbulence dared not to remove the pretty thing. /You don't deserve her,/ the ribbon seemed to whisper. /You said you'd go to the ends of the Earth for her, so you oughta be able to do such a simple task./ From above, the balloon jeered at him with an eyeless, toothless grin. Simple enough, right? All he needed to do was to grab the balloon, and then unravel the ribbon before time ran out. Hearst grit his teeth. He jumped. The mixture of cold and hot air curled around Hearst, catching him like a piece of paper in an unforgivable whip of wind. His blood curdled like milk to cheese. Then, very slowly, the well-built tom opened out his paws to allow the wind better access, a fleshy parachute blooming outwards midair. Drifting upwards was like swimming, he thought. When he first learned to swim, Hearst almost drowned. Murky lake water had drip-dropped into his lungs, gripping at his airways painfully; Clover had fished him out, panting and gasping for air. The agony wasn't the greatest lesson the lovesick cat learned that day. Drowning in water was not as painful as drowning in Clover's candy-blue eyes, clearer than any lake he could physically swim in, seeping past his lungs into the pits of the very soul he'd sold to her. Swimming was impossibly easy in comparison. And so he swam, with a few accidental flips and blips in the process. Ugh, it all made Hearst so dizzy, churning at his insides and sending the feeling back up to his throat. Halfway up the tube, Hearst managed to find a wall and push off of it, sending him upward in a jet-motion. He was so close. All he needed to do was to close the gap. The balloon wobbled from a few inches away, landing just a little far from Hearst's calculated angle, so his head swerved violently to snag it by the string, teeth meeting plastic in the center of the glass tube. Success! Within seconds, the balloon was secure in Hearst's awaiting maw. It was far from over. That was the easy part. Now, for Clover's ribbon... The real countdown began. 60 seconds. Balloon tight in his grasp, Hearst charged with all his strength down toward the air vent. Paws together like a torpedo, he dove into the churning waves. With the vent's ruthless gust surging directly against him, the feline found himself like a fish swimming against the current. A magnet toward its own pole. 45 seconds. Almost there. Mere inches away, the fluttering fabric looked to be just within reach. Instantly, the green-eyed cat forgot about the official challenge at hand. Even if it meant receiving a life-threatening score, Hearst vowed to retrieve the keepsake. For her. For him. [ cont.]
[ cont. ] 30 seconds. The balloon jerked for a split second, threatening to rip itself out of his jaws. Hearst fumbled with the balloon, biting down hard at the edge of its string to prevent his hard work from floating away. His grip on the thing weakened with each and every moment. 15 seconds. Closing in on the ribbon, Hearst's teeth found thin air as the wind countered his movements. Widening his maw in his kite-shaped position, the feline finally caught hold of the delicate thing with his teeth. Then, he /pulled/. The wind blasted point-blank into his face. The balloon threatened to leave. 10 seconds. He was hanging by a thread. 9 seconds. Tick. 8 seconds. The ribbon finally loosened itself on the grate. 7 seconds. Tick. 6 seconds. He couldn't hold on. He /couldn't/ hold on. The wind bit painfully at his cheeks, causing him to go numb. Hearst's blood ran cold. He only had one set of teeth. 5 seconds. Tick. 4 seconds. A poison to pick. A rock and a hard place. Hearst couldn't hold onto the balloon and unravel the ribbon at the same time. One of them would have to be let free. If he were to forget about the ribbon, the challenge would be completed. But what would Clover think? What if she thought he didn't love her enough to make the fateful sacrifice? If he were to let go of the balloon, he'd have been a step closer to earning back Clover's heart. 3 seconds left. Hearst made his choice. 2 seconds. He'd never been so sure of a decision in all his life. 1 second. The balloon drifted off the moment he let go. With Hearst's teeth unrestrained, the ribbon finally snapped free. Time's up. The wind stopped. Clover's red ribbon safe in his maw, Hearst's only thought was to breathe out a sigh of relief. Balloon forgotten, Hearst triumphantly held up the ribbon to the sky, flashing it to the gamemaker, like he'd just won. For once, losing the battle meant winning the war.
