worldofwords (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
worldofwords) wrote2019-09-22 11:13 pm
worldofwords) wrote2019-09-22 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
Six sentence Sunday
This set of six is under a cut. Content warning, nonsuicidal thoughts of death, and the beginnings of what could happen when trapped in snow. It ends Okay, though, I promise!
The place Craimar was in must have been smaller than he first realized, or felt that way.
He could feel it, the snow, all around him closing him in.
Getting closer...closer...and he tried not to scream, not to panic, not to cry out.
Not to waste the air he had by breathing raggedly, but it was hard.
Alone...he would die alone.
With not even his chosen brother for company.
The place Craimar was in must have been smaller than he first realized, or felt that way.
He could feel it, the snow, all around him closing him in.
Getting closer...closer...and he tried not to scream, not to panic, not to cry out.
Not to waste the air he had by breathing raggedly, but it was hard.
Alone...he would die alone.
With not even his chosen brother for company.