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She couldn't die. Not right now, how much of a coward would that make her then? The baby of the family, dying instead of trying to push through? Heh... she was certain Dual could find something to scold her about there.
Oh... if she wasn't in absolute agony then perhaps she would have managed a pathetic laugh at the idea.
Instead she let out a weak call for her mother, a broken smile on her maw - ignoring the way it made her face feel like it was splitting in half - happy to see her. Her mother was here, it was all going to be alright. Everything would be absolutely fine...
Oh it hurt so.
"Twolegs..." she croaked out, throat aching. It was all just a damn pain.
Ah, good, some cats Magnolia knew. Though she could hardly twitch a greeting, let alone move herself to look at them properly. Ruth and Mary, hah... minimal interaction but if this is who she was leaving her life to that was okay.
"Please...just get ma..." she managed to croak out, "please...get...Wasp..."
It hurt, to move, to talk, to just exist with burnt flesh pressed to chilled cement. Karma was a bitch to the bitch who most certainly deserved it.
Watching the two with yellow eyes Magnolia coughed.
"If...you help me, I...might," she answered Ruth, already straining her poor limbs to try and move. What a bastard thing fate was.
A bastard she deserved, mind you.
// return from this thread
It all just hurt.
The searing burning and stretching from the flesh uncovered by scalping fire, it tugged and pulled, shrieked and wailed as she moved. The fires of hell never ended their burns and Magnolia could still feel the flames licking up at her body, engulfing her in a bastardised version of a lovers embrace. But, there was no love. Only smokey lungs that made her wheeze even now, and ripped flesh where it should have been darkened fur.
The skin ripped right from her paw-pads was long gone as she forced her burned legs to keep pushing onward. Every step was a hiccup of a sob from her maw as it shot through every inch of her being. A burn at the depth of bone and veins.
Each step was a trail of blood and ooze from infected wounds, left open for ash and sparks to snip at. Each cut open hole from glass inside poking out, they throbbed and opened when stretched to move. The side of her mouth and face, ripped of most of the fur that was once there, the smoke aching her eye until she forced it closed to stop the feeling.
Smokers lungs coughed as she begun to see familiar streets.
Every limb ached - even her tail couldn't be raised, what was left of it at least - every step a toll her body couldn't handle. Each touch by anything had her body trembling, her mouth bloodied from the bites to keep the shrieks inside. She'd wailed and screamed a storm, no word could escape her throat without grating against the already worn flesh.
A selfish desire hit her, a monster to take away this pain.
Bloodclan territory - the heart of it - she could recognise it as soon as she set paw in it.
Her steps were off and slow, paws sometimes tugging germs and waste into the open wounds. Her skin was blazed a sickly pink and when she moved it stretched disgustingly in a beg for her to stop moving.
Oh, but the many toed feline continued on, ignoring the ooze and blood that pulsated from the glass and melted on wounds.
She ignored the pulse in her ears that thundered on, the sound of her heart, the feel of it up her throat.
There was nothing in her stomach to heave, she'd lost it all before she'd made it here, the pain too much.
And still now it was too.
Magnolia's steps grew weak and small, the sight of home so close yet they all knew she wouldn't make it that far.
She tried, though, for once in her pathetic life.
Yet all it got was those burned marrow bones to shake and gif out under her. The cry she gave was weak, as her burns pressed and tugged against the concrete beneath her. How she had any tears left, she wasn't sure, but what she had she wept, feeling every part of her burn.
An eternal pyre in her skin.
An absolute nightmare in flesh.
Glass tugging where it should not be.
If nothing else,
Magnolia was home.
// CALEDON. since u wanted a tag <3
//put here as to not block up the BC board
//warnings for in depth(?) scenes of burns/burning uhhh just a general icky warning i guess?
//also,,,, Baelfire since u wanted to be tagged ;3
Her...argument(?) with Dualeyes had just left Magnolia both upset and pissed off. It was hard not to be, after being called the family 'baby' when she'd done nothing to get in her sister's way. What did it matter to her what she did? Dual was already head guard, kin beater, just an all around joy wasn't she? It was selfish and idiotic of Magnolia to be jealous and upset with her sibling.
It wasn't Dual's fault she was just generally better. That Dual tried more. That Dual actually gave a single damn about her life.
Maybe if she hadn't been born an absolute bitch Magnolia wouldn't have ended up this way.
Ah, was it an excuse or a true reason?
Indeed, eight toes on each foot save one that was wonderfully, disgustingly fused together, made things difficult. But, was it as difficult as Magnolia found it? Would other cats adapt to walking with paws not right? With extra toes not all the same? Perhaps Magnolia was really just a whiny child, it wouldn't be much a surprise, would it?
Out of all of them, it had been her that chose to slip into obscurity in the family.
It was her that made no attempt for guard, for healer, for anything.
It was her that spent days and days hidden away in some obscure alley deep in the territory.
No one else but Magnolia could be blamed for her ugliness.
Haha, and to think, she assumed herself one pretty enough to die like that!
Oh, Magnolia may not be pretty, but surely, well, one of those things felt very very close.
As per usual Magnolia had decided that the best course of action was to just leave it all behind for a while. Just hide away and let it all blow over. She was thankful, in times like these, that she wasn't a guard or a healer or something shitty like that. No one would spy that the many-toed cat had buggered off to do whatever it was she did for near moons without end.
This time it was an upset anger that made her move.
Sure, she'd been mad, tried to justify herself. But, in a lot of ways, Magnolia was jealous of her sister's ability to be...worth something, to actually be someone, be something. Magnolia didn't feel she was much deserving of the same thought. Hah, what a selfish little brat she was. No princess of Bloodclan's king or queen here, simply a fool unable to even cause a jest.
Her mood made her slip through alleyways and streets she didn't normally visit, made her slip further and further away from Bloodclan's home. Sure, technically this was all their territory, but one would be foolish to attempt to make it all patrolled. The moon and stars gazed down upon her in pity as Magnolia moved through the night, wondering just how far she'd go before she'd need to rest.
How long she'd need to wait for the ugliness inside her to settle its fucking business and just let her sister be happy.
Magnolia didn't even know what would make her happy, she wasn't as easy to get rid of as Azazel.
These thoughts of selfishness and ugliness were what lulled Magnolia to sleep, squished under some boxes in attempt to stay hidden. Not the most uncomfortable, but Magnolia wouldn't say she'd deny something softer to rest on. But, hey, for once in her life Magnolia couldn't beg or whine for something she wanted. Little brat deserved to learn what the real world was like.
Though, perhaps not like this.
The molly was awoken by the spitting of sparks and the shove of boxes above her. Even in her blurred and sleepy state Magnolia had enough sense to sprint from her resting spot. Not far off twolegs swayed and laughed. Tossing more crackling sticks that burst into sparks. Empty glass was tossed the same way, shattered pieces taking flight wherever they could reach.
The sparks glistened in the amplification the glass provided, a firework of heat and pain.
The laughter of the twolegs was swayed and drawled, even from her place - frightened, perked in fear - she could see their eyes and gait weren't quite right. Intoxicated like a cat on death row Magnolia cried out as her paws were sliced under glass shards.
The attempt to move herself out of the way of the bottle flying at her left her with only the option to stand on the pain, or take a bottle to the head. She didn't want to die here, with giggly twolegs and glass stuck in her eyes.
And so far from home too, how dreadful it'd be, for no one to see her again. Well, that's if they didn't assume that she'd just left on her own, or perhaps the simple idea that she was skirting around them. Oh, if Magnolia died away from home none would know she even dead.
What a sad thought.
Squealing Magnolia painfully shoved herself to the ground - whimpering at the feel of knife-sharp glass tearing under her skin. The sparks that caught her pelt would hurt a lot more if she didn't get rid of them. The feel of glass beneath her skin was sickening, the feel of knowing it under still sealed flesh, feeling it poke outward from the inside skin of her back.
The feel of fur being plucked from her body as she scrambled up - having to bite back her pained yowl as her feet became pin-cushions - was what made her heave. It felt like she was being scalped by claws sharper than the devils teeth.
On bleeding paws and shaky limbs the molly dashed for the pile of discarded garbage and junk not far off.
A miniature mountain of discarded objects just piled at the back of some run-down shitty twoleg building. Magnolia didn't really care as she squeezed herself under the foul smelling pile of who knew what.
Even if sagging and filled with cardboard and foul smelling liquid Magnolia decided this was far better of a place to be.
Quietly the dark cat nursed her bleeding wounds, a silent sob escaping her as the pain started to creep up on her. It wasn't nice, she didn't like this. She was a pathetic cat, after all. She'd never been able to fight, or hunt properly. Ugly paws made that pretty much impossible. Was it wrong, now, to blame her hate on her paws, should she have torn each extra toe from her paws with the glass? Marred her white paws with handsome red in attempt to be proper? Perhaps stitched them to the back foot lacking a few?
...or bleed out, or infect open wounds with whatever ugliness was surrounding her right now?
She was probably already going to gain an infection from her back or her feet anyway, why go the extra foot to stain pretty fur?
Sighing the weak she-cat dropped her head to throbbing paws, being lulled back to an exhausted and fear driven sleep by the sounds of cracking sparks.
Oh, it was scary.
She could hear their slurred speech, their laughter, the shattering of glass on rough cement.
Oh, as soon as she woke she'd go home, get someone to look at these wounds.
...probably get an 'I knew it' or something of the like from Azazel or Dual.
The thought nearly made her think twice.
There was no time on second thoughts. As while the horrors that made her body scream to leave were still going Magnolia felt the exhaustion from an interrupted sleep fill her. Even if she'd begged and plead she wouldn't have been able to keep her eyes open. Surprisingly enough, a sleep driven on by fear and pain resulted in, well, nothing that could be considered a nightmare. She wasn't clawed around the neck by demons her mind created, wasn't teased and beat by kin she felt she'd failed.
No, it was just... a sleep.
Well, it had been.
She'd felt the heat before she really felt the burn.
A cracker has sparked close by, caught on the ugly smelly liquid and raced through it to the highly flammable shelter Magnolia had taken. The shambled hut had quickly begun to blaze, dazzling sun-fires lighting up the area in a spectacular display. The radiating light left an eye for any to pass to see it, to follow, like a moth. The flickering reds, oranges, and yellows swirled in a dance to entice those who dare whisper to it.
AH, but such beauty has consequences.
Consequence of pain and stripping away one of what they were, a beauty transferred from fur to flame. A fuel as painful as the body of a dancing maiden of fire.
The screech that Magnolia let out was raw and pained. Her throat clawed at itself in a bloodied frenzy as the fire licked at her skin and melted at pretty fur. The sound like she was being gutted as the burning structure sagged and pressed fire deeper into dear skin. It pressed and pulsed against open wounds, singing the hairs down until only red flesh was beneath. Red inside and out Magnolia could feel the way the fire tugged at her bare flesh, tugging and melting it from her body, squeezing into the oozing wounds and alighting her innards. The pain blared and sirens screeched in her ears as the fire caught all it could.
Her paw-pads felt stuck to the ground as the young cat shrieked and wailed like a banshee. It felt as though the wounds burst and she could feel the openings widen as skin singed open in a force like claws ripping her open.
The ugly twist of her skin all over forced her to move, the bottoms of her paws partly melted to the ground, flesh tearing and ripping like an ill placed bandage. It tore them off, leaving bloodied paw prints as she forced herself out of flame and onto solid concrete.
The shrieking and wailing didn't end, the tears dissolved from her eyes as she begged and pleaded with any and all that she could for the agony to stop. Her ears and face felt the brush of night air as the flames scalped her of most that was there. The bottom of her paws were cuddled by fire, pressing and pushing into the ripped flesh that was once there, creating damage and a burn felt deep into ribs rattled with sobs.
The melting flesh on her body was dying out, yet still it pulled at most of her, stripping flesh from places here and there. The smoke ached her lungs and her eye was blinded from the fire that tried to curl behind and singe the cord to pluck it out like a crow. If it had a voice it would giggle and pat her with sharp hands of oil and gas cooing trickster words to make her burn ever brighter.
A sun to pluck the parts she liked, to curl in her throat as smoke and make her wheeze in her screams of agony.
Shoving to the ground, pressing and opening oozing wounds that spat liquid like a crying widow, Magnolia rolled on the cold ground to extinguish the flames.
The spark lit fire whined as it began to dull, flickering from a sun to a candle to barely a match. It's voice, the giggle of a madman, stil whispered in her ear as she came to a slow. Her throat was clogged with the ache of smoke, the raw pain of screaming, and the clog of tears. Laying a burned, scalped mess Magnolia sobbed to herself, unable to even curl in on herself with the way her body screeched from the biting fire.
The blaze behind her still roared, but perhaps the waterfall of tears from the maiden could quell a raging dragon?
This was no fairy tale.
The dragon roared.
The maiden wept.
A bright sunset, none to be found.
A flower burned, scorned by the anger of hate and drunken idiocy.
The petals of gentle white,
They lay singed, in pieces not yet dead.
A Magnolia born out of season,
scorched to the earth from whence it grew.
not dead, but wishing it.
"If I've survived struggling every day before now, a few more in the future will be easy," she huffed, watching her sister. Her following words made Magnolia prickle. In moments like this she did wish she wasn't the piss-poor excuse of a child that she was.
"We're from the same litter, Dual, don't act like I'm Azazel and you're actually significantly older than me," she reminded. She knew she was the weakest sibling, knew she had the most to work for, but she did not want Dualeyes acting like she was older.
"Your rank is higher than mine, not your age, Dual. I'm sorry I can't be as useful as you or Azazel, that I'm not as cunning or smart as you two. I'm just trying to get through life with fucked up feet."
They were the same goddamn age. From the goddamn litter.
It wasn't her fault she wasn't a guard.
Any other parent with enough sense would have let the fucked up-foot kit drown.
It wasn't her fault she was a shit-cat.
"Then act like you care! It doesn't make me feel very good when you ask me if I enjoy being a baby, it doesn't make me feel good when you belittle me as though I'm younger! You say you care yet you talk like I'm lesser than you! I'm sorry I can't be ma and pa's favourite, that I can't be head guard, if it bothers you so much I'm more than happy to leave if it helps you!"
She hated that her voice was shaking, that her eyes were wet like she was gonna cry.
baby of the family alright.
"You don't need to look out for me Dual, focus on your duties for Ma and Pa. Make Azazel worth something."
Perhaps she should have let that tumbling heap of garbage crush her into icky little bits. Not very pretty, but she wouldn't have to hear her sister scold her like she was any better.
"Sometimes the twolegs bring stuff, I wanted to see if there was anything new," she answered the bicolour-eyed molly. Was she really about to get shaken down by her own sister for nothing?
"Oh, i'm sorry, I'll be sure to die in a very easy to clean way," she tossed back lazily, already back to peering around the dangerous junkyard. Maybe she should have just slipped off into the city. If Dualeyes was going to shit on her.
If her sister didn't want her dead, well...
Hah! Magnolia hardly believed that.
"Do you like being the family success?" she asked in turn, hardly an issue in her voice.
Sure, she fucking hated that Dual was speaking to her like that, but, fuck it, Magnolia already knew she was living on charity. A cat with fucked up feet like her wouldn't get far on her own.
"Why, does it bother you? One less cat to worry about, you've already got head-guard, sister, you don't have to worry."
What brought on this stupid conversation?
"...was there a reason you brought that up? Or do you just like scolding me?"
Slipping off whenever she felt like it was a pretty good deal in Magnolia's mind. Darling Dualeyes could surely keep the attention off her, so Magnolia hardly had a worry of some cat following her. Sometimes being the least capable sibling had its perks. Even if that number of siblings seemed to be dwindling in recent times.
She wanted to die pretty and on her own, possibly with some darling flowers. It'd be a nice thing, she thought, plus, none of the bastards in Bloodclan would rough her up.
They could be so rude, about her fur, and about the far too many toes on three paws.
The awkward pawed cat had slipped into the junkyard, just for a bit of fun.
Damn Azazel could slip wherever he pleased, he was far better at hiding away from their family than she was.
Shaking dirt from her fused back foot the she-cat slipped through the dangerous territory. Ugh, hiding out in the city and having other people hunt was far easier.
Perking up the little molly tipped her head.
What was that..?
Scrambling quickly Magnolia moved out of the way of tumbling junk.
"Oi! You up there! Watch what you're knocking down!"
Almost lazily the many toed molly raised her head, blinking away the sleep from her quick nap. She'd not expect this sort of thing from her, that tone was more telling that she' probably like to admit.
Stretching out once Magnolia settled in a more appropriate sitting position, trying to guess just what could have Mary shaking her words.
Oh how she loved a bit of gossip - when not about her, of course.
"Oh, please share," she chirped.
"Telling me off doesn't make you better," she shot back just as sharply. If Windclan was too stupid to tell the difference between hostility and a slightly sharp quip then that was their issue, not hers. And fi they were stupid enough to fight over it, well, she wouldn't be sorry when that got them slaughtered.
"I'm sorry that I care about their opinion on Papa," that, however, was grumbled quietly to herself.
The sight of Caledon creaking made her wince.
How much pain had she missed while deep in the city?
Two more Windclanners arrived and Magnolia was grateful for her dark mother's comforting nudge. Defend themselves huh? She'd much rather protect them than herself. But she wasn't about to admit that, not when she'd just shot Dual those words.
The black tabby - new leader of Bloodclan - explained the situation to Jasperstar and Magnolia wondered hows he'd take it. Would they jump at the chance to do something while they were in the middle of a power change? Or maybe use their mother's anxiety against her?
Caledon wouldn't let that happen.
Hoping to be some sort of comfort Magnolia gave her mother a small nuzzle to the shoulder.
Be proud, Mother, you're far more fit for this than you think...
Pausing in her thoughts Magnolia peered over at her brother, my, she hadn't expected to see him on the trip back. To be fair she hadn't expected to see much more than Azazel's stupid paws overtaking her. Perhaps if she had more energy she'd shoot the caramel healer a word or two.
"IT probably has been moons, Can," she shrugged, not really knowing what to say.
She hadn't much kept track of the time.
Using a cramped paw to scratch her chin she looked away from her brothers green eyes, not much confident in her ability to keep contact.
"You make it sound like I wanted to bring the brat with me," she huffed, "Mama wouldda been sad if one of her kids got killed....again...."
She peered at Canary for a moment, eyes glancing at his admittedly fucked up toes.
"Couldn't let him die, at least, Mama likes her good kids alive, ya know! Though I'm sure if I brought him back with a cold you'd fix him up before she saw."
While not back long Magnolia still wanted to be her mother's good daughter again. Or, better yet, favourite. Though that would be hard. And maybe that wasn't what she should be thinking about when trying her best to keep up with the new Bloodclan leader.
She fell behind at the first touch of soft grass under her multi-toed paws. A bit of a fright, really.
Only rough concrete and weeds had ever been much in Magnolia's knowledge.
Quickly she rushed to catch back up with her dark tabby of a mother. Windclan was meant to be their allies, and now her mother was Leader (she dipped her head in wonder about her poor aching father). Was this the sort of stuff leaders did? Go out to moors?
"What if they attack us, Mama?"
Pressed to the molly's side Magnolia was alert upon looking out on the moorland.
What if they were attacked? What were they going to do then? Glancing at her mother she shuffled a little closer.
"Windclan better get their sorry asses here already..."
Even though her words had been said in strength she quickly dove behind her mother at the sight of the larger tom.
His scent was obvious.
But they spoke as if they knew each other and Magnolia did her best to not look like a scared little girl. Even if she did indeed feel like a frightened child.
And then the bengal mentioned her father, oh, she could already here the creaks in his limbs and the hisses of pain through his teeth.
"He's fine," she near hissed, though for Jasperstar or herself? Well she didn't know.
He was an important figure like her mother.
//yeah sure if you’d like toooooo
She'd long since accepted that her paws would pretty much forever hinder her. She'd simply have to find some actual use for herself, considering she'd be useless to her fathers clan in most ways.
"It's fine, Minnow, I know what my paws are like," she gave the younger cat a small smile, hoping she didn't feel too bad.
"You'll get better as you get older."
"Pretty close! There's two of my, err, friends and a kit, their kit I assume."
Without any further hesitation Magnolia ushered the other cats down to meet them, giving the two adults a crooked smile.
"Magnolia, you brought a guest?"
"Introduce yourself, kid," she leaned down to Minnow, "their kids a bit shy, so you gotta introduce yourself first."
Magnolia could recall that a few of the cats she'd, uh, 'met' had kits. It wasn't a ploy to get rid of Minnow, more so just give her something to do while Magnolia did...what she wanted, was the kindest way to put it.
She doubted the little one would find much joy in chatting about exchanges and deals. Most of the time Magnolia didn't either. So boring, really.
Magnolia followed the its gaze to her paws, making a face at how cramped they were, eight toes each. Except the stupid back one, fused together like some ugly claw foot.
Still she tried a smile, attempting to not trip over her own paws.
"Haha... Thanks, kid, but I'm not really a hunter. Maybe one day you can show me how a normal pawed cat hunts." Her words were kinder than the rough ones before, her tail flicking Minnow's side in a small tease.
"s'nice to meet you, Minnow, I'll have to keep an eye out for you now that I know your name," she grinned.
The caramel cat seemed sweet enough, what a good id.
Slinking down the alleyway Magnolia kept her ears perked and her eyes roaming. She had someone to look out for now, she couldn't be reckless.
The scent of city cats came to her and she paused, looking over at Minnow.
Two, and... a young one.
"Some friends are here," she whispered to the turkish van, "can you smell how many?"
Magnolia was, of course, tempted t keep being the brat she always was and be a bit of a, well, bitch to the kid. But, she recalled being that age and so eager to please her mother, it wasn't...fair to treat the damn kid like that. That, and Magnolia was a sucker for those damn sad eyes.
Relaxing her stance Magnolia offered the kit a small smile.
"Is that so? Then I guess we're good to head out," she told the caramel-white cat, a sweep of her tail beckoning the little one to her side. She may have been selfishly pissed with her mother and her new siblings, but she wouldn't be neglectful to a kit.
She was four moons old.
She couldn't let her be hurt, even if she was a brat.
"Maybe we'll find some kits who wanna play," she shrugged, moving them out, the scents of the inner city already strong. "Maybe you can make a friend. Hey, err... I'm Magnolia, by the way, and...whatever. We'll go by the alley, sometimes cats meet there."
Quite a selfish little brat, really, if one thought about it proper.
Well, not that one would need to think a cat manipulating others anything but selfish, not when all the gain went to her and only her.
With an awkward stop the too many toed she-cat stopped, turning her attention to the kit trotting up by her. She could remember when she was that old, the little one couldn't be any older than her newest set of siblings.
"I'm going into the city, to find some...friends to hang out with," Minnow was too young for other words. She offered the younger cat an odd look.
"If you want you can come, it's a long walk," she shrugged, "if whoever looks after you says you can go why not? Once you get old enough you don't even need to ask your Mama's permission, you can just...slip away."
She screwed up her nose, swiping minnow lightly with her tail.
"Come if you want, pipsqueak, just don't tattle on me if somethin happens!"
Magnolia was a selfish little thing.
She'd struggled with her independence due to her awkward footing, sticking close by her mother all that time. From the moment of birth to after her near drowning. But then Waspwing had another litter, all little daughters - save one annoying brat boy - and she'd fret over them far worse than the prior ones saw.
That's not to say Waspwing didn't love them.
It was obvious to anyone that Waspwing did.
That she loved all her children so much.
But Magnolia was disgusting and selfish. No forged connections to fall back on, only a single cat to bully, but now she was too old and that dark tom no longer took a child to the city depths.
But she was also old enough to not need her mothers permission anymore.
Maybe she'll focus on her new ones instead of where an old one went off to.
Magnolia was horribly selfish.
Thankfully it was something hidden deep, something none would ever know. Hidden behind cute batting eyes and tiny flings meaning nothing but something for her in exchange for the idea of a cute cat as a lover.
But she was old enough now.
She didn't need Mama's permission to go into the city.
So with a stretch of mutated paws Magnolia peered around the border before trotting off.
She was sure there'd be some fun to be had in places she'd never been.
And should someone join her? Well, it takes two to tango!
Surely if they did they could have some bratty fun!
"When'd I say you were a...pansy?" their brother used such coloured words, not even in the fun swearing way. Though she wouldn't say it she didn't think a healer dying fighting would be the most useful healer.
Though who was she to say? She wasn't doing shit all if one was honest.
"If you get sick that just means you have to get better the fastest," she chirped with a lazy grin on her maw.
Being...King, leader, whatever... Her brother could certainly try for it, probably make it if h put the true efforts in. Just like Canary and his position of Healer.
She was proud of them, of Canary for his positions - ex-guard trainee and now healer apprentice - and Tetris for his high dreams - to be king.
"Be a good King, when you're leader," she told him.
Magnolia's ears perked and her eyes lightened at the sight of her mother. When she took place beside her the cramped pawed cat slumped happily against her dark mother.
Ah, she wished her mothers words could be true.
Magnolia kept her lazy grin, her mother should know best that you can't save everyone.
"We're just makin conversation Mama!" she assured, knowing it wasn't quite a lie.
"Can and Tetris can't die," she reminded, "ones gotta b leader and the others gonna be the best healer about!"
Dying pretty, my, what a sight.
"I hope so, I want at least something nice from it," death, in itself, was a horribly ugly truth. One they'd seriously need to learn to overcome.
Or not, she was no guide on life.
"Bones are only pretty when not filled with stuff," the she-cat screwed up her nose. "When they have maggots and worms burrowing in the skulls they're no fun, pretty ugly, really. Or when they're only half gone, and they've got icky things still sticking to their ribs and in their sockets."
Die a king?
Tipping her head Magnolia looked to her brother.
"How ya gonna be king like Papa?"