HELP ME POLARIZE / O, JOINING

[size=8]･ﾟ★ ☾ its raining, droplets of water curtaining your vision and leaving your sweater soggy. you move forward at a slow pace, pawsteps dragging through the storm-wilted weeds that cloak the mucky ground. your head is bent down, weighted by the weather and self-inflicted grief because you left everyone behind. again. running away has started to become a pattern for you. when things get to be too much, you turn and bail- which until last summer was something you'd never done before, let alone consider. now you feel like you're being pathetic, gutless, to just leave shadowclan in the dark.

then again, shadowclan probably hasnt noticed your absence. they sure as hell didnt seem to care when you and funhaus got dragged off to the cartel. maybe if they had, the apparent rift between you and him wouldn't have been made, crafted by the torture the two of you endured together and then sealed by your deaths. he is.. a major reason for your choice to flee, even if you hate to admit to it. you failed him, failed protecting him, and having to look at your failure in the face on a daily basis is unsettling for you.

and yeah, one bad thing wouldn't typically tip anyone off to run like this, but its not one bad thing. its multiple bad things, multiple failures and mistakes and tragedies. and nearly all of them link back to shadowclan. you left before for the same reasons, but came back a month or so after with the idiotic idea that you could move on. who have you been kidding, thinking that you could live like that with your demons. how many demons do you have anyways? and can you conquer them all?

the mud gets thicker then and pulls you out of your increasingly bitter thoughts. it lodges your left forepaw in place, and you falter. stumble to the ground. struggle to get back up. fail. when the mud squeezes past the flowers coiled at your throat, slumps up beneath the scar tissue, you cease your wriggling and wait for someone to mosey on along, sinking back into the mud with perked ears and an exasperated sigh. [fancypost=border-width:0;color:#BDA0A6;font-size:12pt;letter-spacing:-2px][center]i'm a n-n-nervous wreck / [color=#fff]tags

[size=8]･ﾟ★ ☾ "yo, you alright?"
you twist about in the muck to come face to face with a stranger. you look her over from your place on the ground, head laid against the sludge. she's pretty; she's some weird-looking cat thing (you'd like to say serval, but there is clearly something else in her genes) and she has brightly colored goggles branched across her forehead, a glossy green. since being discovered is what you have been hoping for, you remain relaxed and instead offer the other a flick of your ear, "ah, hi. im stuck." you explain after a brief pause that involves you habitually swiping your tongue over your maw, "and im joining this uh.. carnie-thingy." the name of the group evacuated your mind the second you try to say it, leading you to get creative with titles. you consider this for a moment, and then procede to introduce yourself, wiggling your legs slightly for emphasis, "im frisk! please help me."
/you're good![fancypost=border-width:0;color:#BDA0A6;font-size:12pt;letter-spacing:-2px][center]i'm a n-n-nervous wreck / [color=#fff]tags

[size=8]･ﾟ★ ☾ even in the downpour, you can still rely on your senses. your sense of smell is a tad muggy perhaps, hampered by rain, but nowhere near as crippling as cipher's. if mud wasnt slathering it down, your fur would have puffed up the second the smell of rot and blood flushed your nostrils, and your eyes are quick to seek the other out, honeyed hues fixating on bill with quiet apprehension. another time, just seeing them here would convince you that this isnt the place for you. the thought of things they could do to you and others played a role in this way of thinking. however, that was before they killed funhaus. your dad came back alright, but his crumpled body is forever etched into your mind. bill already took away the thing you care about most in the world, so now you just dont really care much about what else they could do because it will never beat that.

they seem impatient, and are clearly not happy to see you (but dont worry- the feeling is mutual) as they fire off a demand. you frown at them from your place in the mud, squirming about as you try to pull yourself up into a more presentable position, "ah, because this place looks cool." a lame answer but hey, you're not trying to impress them. since steampunk doesnt seem to want to lend you a hand, you begin to pull at your legs again, trying to rip them free of the grime whilst bill precedes to address you. "shadowclan is my deathbed." you retort darkly, whipping your head up to fix bill with round eyes. the clan hasnt felt like home in a long time, anyways. its not the shadowclan you remember. "and who says im looking for a home?" you're a traveler at heart. you have trouble staying in one spot for too long, and that cant be helped. "i just want to stick around for awhile. i wont get in your way! promise!" [fancypost=border-width:0;color:#BDA0A6;font-size:12pt;letter-spacing:-2px][center]i'm a n-n-nervous wreck / [color=#fff]tags

[size=8]･ﾟ★ ☾ you've died on several occasions, but your death(s) in shadowclan stick out to you like a sore thumb. you raise a brow at their broken english, able to understand what they're saying for the most part but not feeling bothered enough to explain, simply shaking your head. they don't need to know this and you feel like things should stay that way. you manage to pull one paw free, your fingers bubbled in muck, and let your eyes glance back over at them. "'kay, then dont get near me." you lazily retort, interest in bill evaporating like water on a hot summer day as you go back to working on freeing your legs, "so i can stay?" you direct the question at steampunk, but you suppose anyone can answer. it seems like you can stay, but your not too certain if you can take bill's word for anything.
[fancypost=border-width:0;color:#BDA0A6;font-size:12pt;letter-spacing:-2px][center]i'm a n-n-nervous wreck / [color=#fff]tags