#dogcaught

[elpiskey]

OUR MUSES argue quietly over whether to leave shelter or stay.

@dogcaught || HIGH-STAKES DISASTERS-BASED.

“—i just don't think this is the right time to put your theory into practice. ”

they've been over this already.

clementine’s arguments had come at her in a rush earlier—sharp, practical, relentless—faster than grace could even process the first four words of her own sentence. she understood the reasoning. she understood the danger of staying put too long, of hiding inside four thin walls like rats waiting for the trap to snap shut.

and the walls were painfully thin.

old timber that creaked whenever the wind brushed its cold breath across the boards. somewhere above them the roof groaned softly, the tired complaint of a structure that had likely been standing longer than anyone who had ever tried to call it home for more than a year.

grace was just tired. tired to the bone.

she sat near the narrow window, one knee drawn slightly inward, her pistol resting loosely across her thigh as she watched the snow-crusted forest through the warped glass. outside, the trees barely existed in the dark. the last hints of dusk had long since drained from the sky, leaving only the faint suggestion of movement whenever the wind—or something else—disturbed the branches.

she didn’t like it.

she didn’t like the dark.

she didn’t like places where her ears had to enhance into something like a sixth sense, straining to separate imagined sounds from real ones. every creak, every scrape of wind through the branches forced her mind to run the same calculation over and over.

is that something?

or is it nothing?

both answers required a reaction. both answers required energy she didn’t have left. her gaze drifted across the dim cabin toward clementine, who still seemed to possess the strength to keep arguing.

why?

grace rubbed a hand briefly across her forehead, feeling the cold sweat lingering there. it was too dark to see anything clearly. too cold to risk getting lost if they wandered too far from the cabin. the moment that door opened, they would be exposed.

if they were being honest about their situation—and grace had long since abandoned the comfort of pretending otherwise—they were already in too deep. turning back was technically still possible. but she didn't want to move blindly forward either. strategy mattered more than ever.

fear tightened its tendrils around her heart, squeezing just enough to make every step feel heavier than the last. she could feel the paralysis creeping in around the edges of her thoughts, the exhaustion that made blinking feel like laborious work. she felt the wetness of tears coming up at the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them quickly before they could leave her face.

she just needed a moment.

just a few minutes to pull herself together.

grace lifted her head again, her eyes settling on clementine with quiet insistence.

“ don’t be ridiculous about this, clementine, ” she said softly. her voice wasn't angry, but still firm enough. it was worn as a hag's bated breath.

“ unless you’ve got powers i don’t know about, please.. just.. stay. we have everything to lose if we make missteps.. ” a small pause followed, as she took a sharp breath.

“ i don’t want to lose you. we got in this together, we should leave together, right? ”

[elpiskey]

SENDER forces RECEIVER to keep moving despite exhaustion.

@dogcaught || HIGH-STAKES DISASTERS-BASED.

the afternoon was dying.

the blood orange sun shrank slowly toward the horizon, its light thinning across the canopy as though it were ashamed to witness what the day had become. the darkness gathered patiently at the fringes of the forest, waiting for the last sliver of daylight to surrender before swallowing the whole world, and ushering in the night. tonight promised no mercy. no moon. no comforting silver glow filtering through the crooked branches.

just dark.

and humidity.

it clung to grace like a second skin, thick and suffocating, refusing to ease even as the day faded. the air felt heavy enough to sink her teeth into and chew. the beads of dew gathered along her neck until they slid down her collar like slow rain. she stumbled over a root that jutted from the earth like a gangly finger, terror hammering against her ribs and playing her heart like a drum.

the urge to shed her flesh and soar high above the forest—to escape the earth entirely, to escape being grace ashcroft—pressed against the inside of her skull like a scream she refused to release.

her legs had been working far past the point where they should have stopped cooperating. the meager muscles in her thighs trembled with every step, the ache spreading upward through her hips and into the base of her spine. her throat felt roar, scraped hollow with ash. every breath she dragged into her lungs burned on the way down.

it felt as though there had been a dragon sleeping inside her all along.

now it had woken. its breath filled her chest with fire, the soul swelling with rebellion and anger until every inch of her insides felt scorched.

she slowed without realizing it.

the forest blurred. her vision pulsed black. every few seconds her eyelids threatened to fall shut entirely, only for her to snap them open again, wide as a frog's, to a world rushing past in sharp clarity.

thank god she wasn't alone.

because when she heard— or thought she heard — clementine’s voice cut through the haze—“ keep moving. ” —and a firm hand seized her by the bicep, dragging her forward again, it felt like life returning to her lungs.

“ i’m— i’m okay, i’m okay !” grace gasped, the words spilling out louder than she intended. she wasn’t sure whether she was reassuring clementine or herself.

she lurched toward a nearby tree and braced a palm against its trunk, the rough bark biting into the flesh of her hand as she fought to steady her breathing. sweat dripped from the tip of her nose and splashed dark against the black soil below.

“ i am— ” she sucked in another breath. “ —okay! sorry. ” the apology came out hoarse.

she licked the salt of sweat from her lips and wiped the rest away with the back of her leather sleeve. her hand slid instinctively into the inside pocket of her jacket and drew out her pistol.

the third most reliable thing she had with her.

her own wits came first.

clementine came second.

the pistol came third.

it wasn’t the only gun she carried, but it was the easiest to reach. the one her hand found without thinking. the one that had once belonged to alyssa.

grace lifted the weapon and aimed it toward the dark woods behind them, scanning the tree line as she tried to steal a few precious seconds of breath.

nothing. no snapping twigs. no movement. no distant silhouettes slipping between the trees. you'd think they were running from ghosts. but she knew they weren't mad women. her arms trembled slightly as she kept the gun trained on the darkness.

“ w-what the fuck was chasing us? ”