"Breathe. Hold it. Exhale."
This was the mantra that kept the anxiety prone she-cat sane. She had started it during the storms of her old home, back when her family was just that: A family. Cats that cared for one another, cousins to play with, a loving mother that didn't blame the death of her mate on her only kit. It wasn't the band of cats that fought, scorned, and despised one another as she saw now.
"Breathe. Hold it. Exhale."
The mantra had helped her through many things, big and small. Bullies, unfamiliar places, and most recently her mother going batshit insane and ripping her perfect face into a scarred mess. The mantra was something real, something stable, something that was grounded in reality even when her thoughts were not.
And it couldn't save her now.
"B-Breathe. H-Hold it. Ex...Ex..."
The wind that howled across the plains of the clan echoed in her ears as spots started to dance in her eyes. She was slipping. Her breathing became ragged and hurried, like every single breath could be her last yet. The pain started to spike up her chest like a thousand heated arrows being plunged into her body. The abyssinian's claws dug straight into the dark, frozen earth as she tried one last time to stabilize herself.
"B-Brea....Breaths...Breathe....Breathe..."
Her words sounded hollow to her, like it was a false promise. Just like familial love. The ground rushed to meet her as she felt her head crunch against the icy dirt.