half comply, writing like a toddler sounds boring
I typed this out on my phone quickly with no editing so it's whatever
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The unforgiving embrace of the early morning frost draped itself tightly around the feline creature, as its muscles tightened in a fruitless attempt to harden itself from the cold. The tip of its unkempt tail not masking its face enough to prevent its sensitive nose from being blistered by the winter. A frozen nose, numbing the kitten's face to the core. The aptly named Snowbell, at least that was once his title. They say names only mean something to the ones that gave them to us. Snowbell, having only been born into this world a few short months, could never understand why his home had turned so cold. The incorrigible callousness of human behaviour is still as alien to the lost kitten as the concept of a warm world is.
Perhaps motivated to eat, or perhaps in his body's futile attempt to save itself from the cruel early warnings of another blizzard - Snowbell pulled himself out from a sodden dumpster and meekly dragged himself through the bleak snow. Snowbell had no purpose to be leaving his shelter. Although just a fledgeling to this world, it would seem Snowbell knew his time was at an end. The understanding glint of acceptance looked out of place in the eyes of the childlike exterior of his fluffy white face. No attempts to force out a mew, nor a nyan or a meow. He merely trodded through the snow, leaving soft footprints too small for the average person to notice.
The streets were empty, but so was Snowbell. The latest blizzard had tore this city to pieces. Snowbell hadn't seen hide no hair of a living creature besides the crows that scavenged the frozen, rotting remains of whatever wasn't swallowed up by the Frost Beasts. What would appear to be hours dragged on as the last remaining flicker of flame sparkled in the outmatched heart of the young kitten. We say we know more than any animal, but the only one who could ever understand what motivated the little creature to not give in, is little Snowbell himself.
Suddenly, the tiny, unprotected, injured feet of little Snowbell met the footprints of another survivor. Giant, raggedy, unusual footprints. No sign of toes, a patterned foot with thick lines that dug deep into the snow. Snowbell felt no fear. Merely anticipation on the thought of seeing another living creature once more before he died. His meek crawls slowly turned into a stinted saunter as he began to exert what he believed would be his last efforts in this world. Dizzy from the hunger, blistered and weak, the harshness of the world around him quickly consuming him, Snowbell made his last stand.
The footprints stopped. Snowbell stopped. The lumbering giant in front of him stared. Snowbell stared back. Not four legs, but two. Extraordinarily long and snakelike. Not a handful of whiskers but many. his hairs two-coloured. A midnight black and a plain grey. His other limbs were also rather long and had the ability to hold objects, as the one in front of it did now. A long thin rod with a bell-shaped shelter on top of it. Snowbell had seen this creature in pictures before. No words were spoken between the giant and the tiny ball of fur. Neither of them knew just how long they looked into each others eyes, but the speechless conversation they had felt like it lasted hours.
The giant looked so out of place to the backdrop of the cold white ruins behind him. Snowbell saw colours in him he'd never seen before. The giant scrawled himself up to his two feet, his lanky legs towering above Snowbell. He looked at him one more time before picking up the camouflaged kitten off the ground. Snowbell felt scared, but the giants hands were warm. His desire to run completely overwritten by a sense of finalisation. Snowbell chose to let the giant decide his fate. After all, the brief eye contact he made with the giant were the first contact he'd had with anything in months. Snowball relinquished the last of his flame to the giant and prepared himself for whatever may come.
Snowbell was abruptly enveloped by an embrace that defrosted his withered bones. A loving sound that he'd never heard. "You're safe now, little one."
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Drink something cold. |