This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, and other uncomfortable themes.

ooc; backdated to be set prior to them leaving - maybe a day after being brought to lightstone?

soft, trembling breaths fill the air, like the hum that comes just before a lightning strike. the atmosphere is heavy, a warning laid for all those capable of feeling it. some are more sensitive than others; fragile bones creak beneath the weight of the coming storm as porcelain claws poke crimson holes in shell-stained fur.

eyes stare blindly at the far wall, tucked into the corner in darkness - more comfortable here than anywhere else. it is the only thing you've known for most of your life, terrified now of wide open spaces - when once they were your favorite places.

one pale paw reaches out as if to move, and freezes as terror floods where only blood should flow. you can hear him outside, ranting and railing - enraged by his circumstances. you know, you know, you know he cannot get to you, and yet you fear.

ice freezes your veins, racing like your pounding heart - and then, everything stops. that frantic heart seems poised to give out, as frozen as the fear in your veins. the violent roar overhead releases a torrential outpouring from the sky, and from you. frantic beating resumes in your breast, heart like a caged bird. it slams against the prison bars anyone else might call ribs as if desperate to escape.

you're no stranger to that particular ache.

@Menodora

ART BY WOMBO.ART, CODE BY LARS

Menodora's ears laid flat against her head, delicate frame all but frozen. There were no storms in Darkstone, nothing to stifle the hot dry burn of the desert. She absently licked her paws as she watched Melli, her chest aching with want to help her and hold her, like they did as cubs.

She doubted her ruined paws would be welcomed.

She winced as her rough tongue rasped over a particularly tender part of her toes and stopped, quietly letting the throb of the nerve pain pass. As if it would.

It wasn't lost on her, the way @Melli got tenser and tenser with every insult and angry word hurled buy the caged man outside, but she had no idea what the man had done to her, how she has been broken this deeply. She herself had had few dealings with the man- apart from a few scars, he hadn't engaged with her much. She was more fun for the elites to chase and hunt and maim.

She stood though, on her poor ruined paws, and moved her tiny body between Melli and the man outside. It wasn't much, perhaps it wasn't anything. {"Melite,"} Was that even the name she knew anymore? {"Your claws, my dear."} Her voice was soft, a bit raspy with disuse, but still gentle.

She didn't understand why they were together now, what was coming next. But... if anyone was coming to hurt them...well, all she knew was she wasn't losing Melli again.

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, and other uncomfortable themes.

that frantic heart beats so harshly these fragile bones seem in danger of collapse. panting breaths escape in time with that desperate pulse, hyperventilation threatening, terror like a black wave rising to wash clean the earth. before you can be sucked in, before it crashes over you and leaves you shattered in its wake, a soft voice rings out.

you know that voice.

long-buried memory flashes, leaving behind a strange familiarity when your too-wide eyes finally find @Menodora's face. you cannot possibly know her, and yet... deep in your tattered soul, you are certain that you do. trembling eases, the terror receding; storms are nothing to fear, after all.

the thunder drowns out his voice.

you've never been more grateful to nature.

your claws, she says, and once she mentions them you realize what you've done. sheathing them with a harsh gasp, you look at your chest with dismay. all these years kept pristine and perfect - he will be so angry with you for ruining yourself. angry enough, perhaps, to demote you from queen? surely he - he wouldn't.

the nauseating terror in your gut says otherwise.

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The little cheetah had long given up on any fantasy of fighting back. The urge to protect herself had been stomped out years ago. She'd long given herself over to the power the lions held, given up and allowed their punishments and games.

But @Melli's face broke something inside her. She held the eye contact as long as it was allowed.

Dora still flinched slightly with each crash of thunder. Her little body still trembled with the cold of a creature chronically starved. She had no claws, no strength compared to a lion. But... {"He won't get you back,"} she said softly, knowing she meant it with every tiny ounce of her broken body. That giant white lion had made a promise, and something in her longed to believe it. And... even if it was a lie, they'd break together.

She could tell her memory was shattered, and she hardly understood why hers wasn't worse. She decided not to think about how her friend could be so dimmed with hardly a scratch. She was terrified, herself, jaded but terrified. But Melli deserved better, would get better. If she had to die to give it to her.

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, and other uncomfortable themes.

he won't get you back.

something in the way she says it - her voice, the look on her face, you don't know what it is exactly - makes you... believe it. you get the feeling that this tiny cheetah will stand between you and him if it comes to that, and suddenly the drowning terror is for her and not yourself. somehow, that makes it even harder to breathe.

don't - you gasp, and you're not sure what you're protesting. don't make promises you can't keep, or maybe don't put yourself in danger, not for me. in truth, it's both - you don't see yourself as worth saving, certainly not worth this familiar stranger's life. your voice is soft and shaking, uncertain, and you flinch from it.

you have to warn her, though.

don't get in his way.

please, don't ever get in his way.

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Dora's ears flicked back at the word. It was the first time she had spoken and it surprised her.

She was afraid for her, of course she was. Only spirits know the bruises and breaks she had under her perfect pelt, the fissures that splintered her mind. And it hurt to see.

Her dear Melite no longer knew her. How could she? It had been what, six years? Seven? Of being locked away in a cave, prisoner, worse? And despite the fear, the panic that screamed in the back of her mind... Melli deserved better.

Dora had been here a few days longer, and nothing bad had happened here. She had even left the cave for a few moments and only received kind words. It felt like a trap. But at least there were places to hide here. There were no open expanses to be chased across, and the moss and soil felt so nice on her poor paws.

There was food near the entrance to their den, someone had been leaving it just outside. She tried to remember what Melite had liked but those memories were so fuzzy. She'd tried to cling to them in the hopes that she'd find her one day but it had been so long. So instead, she opted for something that wasn't in the jungle. She dipped out of the den for a moment wordlessly, passing through the vines that hung down the entrance.

She could be brave for her Melite.

There was no one outside.

She crept to the stash of food and selected a small duiker- a little woodland creature that certainly didn't exist in the desert, and quickly drug it back in and nudged it towards the little lioness.

{"Not me,"} She replied in her delicate, raspy voice. {"Them."}

Because whatever it was this pride wanted with them, it certainly seemed they wanted worse for the caged and beaten man.

And then, for good measure. {"No one has hurt me here."} Because going this long without being hurt was.... a record.

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, and other uncomfortable themes.

she leaves the cave.

she just - walks out. easily.

as if... as if it's safe.

you wait alone in the dark, holding your breath, counting the beats of your heart. only a few go by before she returns and you can breathe again, blinking in surprise as a small creature is dropped in front of you. not me, the little cheetah assures you then. them. you wonder for only a second who she means by them, and then you remember the group that had brought you here.

right. they'd... certainly hated landicus, at least, but what did that mean for you? what did that mean for menodora - whose name flashes behind your eyes so quickly you nearly miss it. still... you get the feeling, yet again, that you know her. your mind is broken, memories coming only in tiny snippets, but... but. tiny paws reach up to rub at your head, a migraine beginning to pulse there.

after a moment, you reach for the food she'd brought, tentatively taking a little bite. nervously, you look around - worried you'll both be punished. terrified of the consequences of eating without direct permission. swallowing slowly, nearly choking on your tiny bite, you keep glancing at the den entrance. surely the storm overhead will keep anyone from noticing, and you can bury the bones when you're done.

you nudge the food toward dora.

you cannot eat alone.

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She wondered quietly how long it would take her friend to start eating. It was evident she was hungry, had been for a long time. They bore the same tells of long term starvation- and Mononoke had made it clear she needed to take it slow.

She wondered if the lioness would visit again.

Small meals regularly. That wasn't something she would remember to do for herself, on her own. She'd long ago stopped feeling hunger.

But she could do it for @Melli. Would do it for Melli.

{"I was told to eat,"} she said softly, hoping to ease some of the fears etched into her friend's frame. {"I do not know what this place is, but... there are happy cubs here."} Yet another stark difference.

At least it would be safer for Melli, if not for her. And with that thought, she took a bite as well. The first meal they'd shared since they were cubs.

This content might touch on topics that are sensitive or triggering for some readers. Trigger Warning for mentions of self-harm, PTSD, anxiety, depression, agoraphobia, and other uncomfortable themes.

happy cubs.

happy... cubs.

happy cubs?

you blink rapidly, the phrase that @Menodora has just said being utterly incomprehensible. the words in and of themselves make sense, but combined, they create a concept that is completely foreign to you. you know, somewhere in the back of your mind, that before you were taken by landicus you were happy. you were safe. you cannot remember that consciously, not right now, but somewhere in your subconscious, you know. it doesn't keep you from looking incredulous now, though. cautiously, you take another bite, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully. they... they're happy? safe? you wonder how many there are, and if you'd be allowed to look after them sometimes. you love babies - and you miss your own, desperately so.

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The little cheetah crept slightly closer, in spite of herself. She didn't want to push her old friend, didn't want to startle her or make her uncomfortable. But stars, she missed the way they used to curl up together to watch the sky, the closeness they always shared. She doesn't remember, she doesn't know you anymore.

But here with the thunderstorm, after so long apart... it still all felt like a dream. Maybe it was.

{"She and the lioness caring for her were kind. The cub said we are here to be happy. The lioness has herbs. Everyone has a lot of scars, none of them are fresh."}

To be happy sounded... well, it couldn't possibly be that simple. There had to be some other meaning.

@Melli