FISHERMAN _ closed

[shatteredheart !]

SHATTEREDHEART !
( PAPER HEARTS STRUCK BY DARTS ! )

( cinnamon dreams & expanding hearts ! ) Within her heart was the landscape that rolled on for miles and miles of imaginary land. Disaster's fronds and fingers had crawled and lacerated its avenue through her once bucolic and quaint scenery, a gyrating scene that was adorned with imaginative adornments. There were no kings wearing paper crowns on cardboard thrones that decided to dress the females in puppet strings and costume jewelry for only acrid, malicious smiles to be stretched upon their grotesque faces. Their horrid faces, features excreting a horrible pride, a poisonous, vivid arrogance glimmering upon their faces like the blood they let leak from their feminine prey's veins. ( bleed while i laugh they chuckle at the victim ! ) The previously halcyon painting had been torn to shreds, the canvas ripped through, bitten at, stabbed with knives and pins, emotional and physical pain spreading, reaping, throughout her abused body. Repudiated, left for the dead with no mournful tears nor second thoughts, just a glance and a mark of rejection across her chest and heart. Shatteredkit, forever shattered from the day that had hit her scenery, her wonderland, her escape from this abominable and abhorrent society and atmosphere. ( ripping and eating thy dreams ! ) Yet Feverstar had purged and cleansed her broken heart of all the filthy, ravaging emotions, scourging her bleeding heart, making room for his own affections. Drowsily her pivoted, receiving little letters of admiration knocking at her drowsy and drained mind. Strangely they seemed to stitch up her shattered heart, grabbing the adhesive and a warm hand pulling her from a torturous circus ring while they stuffed her throat full of overwhelming emotions and problematic thoughts. ( what do i smell like? ) His scent had already plunged deep within her expanding and collapsing lungs ( each breath could be the last ! ) overwhelming her in her subconscious. Your scent bears the warmth of summer and the chills of winter, the fragrance of pines and wilting flowers nestle within your incense, her delicate, dulcet canticles faintly entering the air, her little poetic strains and ballads a letter to his mind and heart. The bird-boned, atramentous and ethereal maiden looked so pathetic and shattered upon the ground, feeling exposed if it were not for the protective embrace of Feverstar. Yet she was wary, for what if a rumor of this spread and another came to capture her due to her supposed weakness. ( the cat has claws ! ) Shatteredheart's mind was too drained to create a pandemonium among herself and the sirens were faint, a little whisper on the the tip of your tongue. ( tickling your ears ! )

( oxygenated hearts & dizzy minds ! ) As she lay, quietly, somewhat frightened of what would occur if she would move. Would she crumble into millions of pieces, her appearance and facade no longer just a screen covering up the ruins of jubilation, trumpets dented at birth, only for the major key to be twisted and warped, the x and y axis gyrating until the sharps turned to flats and the melancholy symphony began. ( mournful dirges riddling the air ! ) A certain urge to snap out of her sleepily day dream, her mind trying to slow to a drawl despite its rushing thoughts, pounding like a train on the railroad tracks. Against her starless night sky figurine, the racing of a heart, stirred her gloomy mind. Shatteredheart felt pierces of chagrin try and prickle her eyes into shedding the saline solution of anguish and despondency. ( the label upon my tale ! ) For a moment she felt him become agitated, spikes of panic sending her ochre eyes flashing open, ( lime lights ! ). Whimpers and faint laments quivered from his lips, shaking arrows that cleaved her mind ( hitting the mark ! ). Despite the frightened, tense frame of Shatteredheart his words seemed to act as a sedative, fighting against her panicked emotions, trying to burst through the mask she was still wearing despite all the had happen. ( habits to permanency ! ) The words injected her with needles everywhere, sedatives and darts hitting her in her scars, in her head, and in her heart. Your words and syllables offer bandages and wrappings for my infected, disease ridden wounds, picking up the pieces of my porcelain heart. I will forever ponder why you have picked me from the circus of a crowd, the miserable one hidden away, she painfully spoke, the gloom hanging in her articulate, anapestic intonation, a veil among her words, gossamer yet apparent. A touch of a tongue was upon her drowsy, sleepy head, her town going to bed, all tucked within their sheets, no more fires tonight for the sirens were most likely broken from their constant ringing. ( silence at last ! ) Her eyes widened slightly, a certain pleasant yet disturbed, uncertain sensation sending needles plunging into her sanity, frightening her, causing the people in her town to rise in a cold sweat. Shuddering lightly, from the awkward felicity and amusement, and partially from the screams in her head. Yet her body failed to cooperate, a broken robot, lying in shambles upon the ground, gravity-stricken. A bird crashing against the ground, shattered. The name to forever be permanently seared into her face, her flesh, her mask. Shatteredkit, Shatteredpaw, Shatteredheart, always shattered. ( how suiting my melancholy and morose dear ! ) The chills through her body sent her closer to the calico tom, protected or preyed upon she would find out in the end. Her town went back to bed as she fluttered heart eyes, her breathing as silent as a snowflake in the night. No one would know of the disasters in her mind, in her historical background, or of any destruction at all. Hidden away, tucked in chests, the demons only to arise when she is sleeping. For dreams were their phobia, shutting them away, soothing her mind and shooting the wolves of the emotions. Dreams swiftly took her away into her own world where she would ponder without a bother, intelligent even when asleep. A small, aching purr rumbled gently, timidly from her ribcage, gentle vibrations, only for a moment though, for she was still awake, mind gently bustling along at a steady pace, awaiting a reply if he had anything to mutter at all. ( silence as the answer ! )

word count : one thousand one hundred and thirty one.

[feverstar !]

end thread? or would you like me finish it off?

[shatteredheart !]

finish off please <3

[feverstar !]

He had become her medic, draping stark white dressings over her aching wounds, clearing out the pudgy maggots of mistreatment and the infectious, dark words. In that moment, Feverstar felt the heavy responsibility become assigned to his heavy shoulders – Shatteredheart’s well-being. Unlike most, he did not buckle under the weight but simply heaved harder, adding it on, until his body adjusted to the load. For now, it wasn’t a heavy one, although it was a high priority. After all, she was AshClan’s Medicine Cat. How could she be expected to heal others when she was in turmoil herself? This reassured Feverstar’s thoughts and for once he allowed his mind to fall into a lazy, thick slumber, focusing only on the she-cat’s careful breaths. I cannot tell you how long they sat like that, together, and neither could Feverstar. He only knew of the oleaginous feeling of Shatteredheart’s pelt; that when she took in a breath her whiskers curled in a most adorable fashion, and unfurled like a thin ribbon as she expelled her lungs; that her eyes were a beautiful, luminous color of golden, conceived of sunlight droplets, poppy flowers and a summer’s wind. He loosely wondered if she thought the same things about him. If so, what did she make of him?

As if reading his very mind, the she-cat suddenly responded to his question. It was far better than he could have ever put into words. The calico tom drew in a slow breathe, half expecting to feel summer, winter, cinnamon and pine trees slither down his throat like a snake. He did not smell himself, but he imagined he could, and a lantern smile glowed in his autumn-hued eyes. His purring grew to a great volume, feeling the den with ease. It pushed against the soft earthen walls, fighting to get out with fists of sound waves and happiness. Part of him felt afraid to speak, for fear of ruining the moment. Why couldn’t someone always feel like this, suspended in a dance of glittering hearts, magic eyes and dreams that grew like stars, glowing brighter and brighter until they grew too bright to be contained? Sighing in thought, Feverstar pushed his mind back into sleep. He burrowed his patched nose as deep as it could go into Shatteredheart’s chest. ”Oh,” he thought in pleasure, ”How I love the way she smells.” And the scent of warming, comforting spices exploded inside his body, enveloping his anxious heart and soothing it with long strokes and a mother’s whisper. What had she done to him?

Before today, Feverstar had never committed himself to any she-cats. The Elders had always told him he was never seeing, and Feverstar, young and flamboyant, had scowled at them and muttered something about still having the gift of vision, old cow, stupid Elder. Only now did he come to realize what the Elder had meant – that he could not see the diamonds glittering in the sunlight, hidden behind empty-headed Huntresses who were too much for him to handle. That he went for the easy girls, the ones who pleasured him and obeyed him and only seemed to know one word – “Yes.” – Back then, he enjoyed these flirtatious romps. They were fun and easy; you could come and go with no strings attached. Presently, the tom felt the feeling of longing swelling his heart like a lion’s roaring, flexing its gleaming teeth. This was different; he could feel it in his bone marrow. Different. The word was strong in his mind, a heavy, cold weight – one that, for once, he was looking forward to trying out. And then, Shatteredheart spoke again. At the sound of her voice, Feverstar shut is eyes and pressed his chin closer to her skull, as though he was trying to read the very words flipping through her mind.

”Anyone who doesn’t see you,” He replied softly, ”Is merely blind. But by the time they get to their senses and notice you in your undying beauty, I will have already stolen you away. Why, by that time, we’ll be strolling indolently into the summer sunset, fates twined like a spider’s silk thread. And they will sigh, and think about what they are missing.”


FIN. <3