Snippet #1702646

It was cold, naturally. But this coolness, this briskness, was what made Bluet feel alive. The air ran like quicksilver down her throat as she panted, her legs pumping underneath her. Her greying fur was spotted with snow, and she skidded to a halt. Miles away - thankfully - from that hellhole. The cold air was refreshing, it was what confirmed her escape, it was fresh and freezing and perfectly unfiltered.

She paused, then started to walk, looking behind her as her tracks had changed from pawprints to footprints. She smiled and brushed away a lock of her hair. Her eyebrows pulled forward, her mouth splitting her face in a grimace of freedom. She took a few tentative steps - it had been long since she had felt the outside world with the soles of her feet - and she ran. The snow hit daggers against her bare shins and feet, and she jumped for a tree. Her thinning t-shirt ripped, caught by a branch, and she spat out a curse. Climbing, always climbing. Her arms were sore with the dagger and lighter pressing into them, but she continued her ascent. Looking down, into the distance... Crouching into the tree. If they had one of her kind, that traitor better not sniff her out...