Disclaimer: Yes, my delectable beloveds, Care Bears was in fact not created by me, yes I know, the horror. I am not sure who owns it. I am just writing a story about what seems to be about slightly unstable care bears, why? I dunno, chronic boredom! This is my first fan fiction, chickens scare me.
Masquerade of Cuddle Heart Penguin.
Masquerade Bears shaking body lay on the ground, next the broken walking stick, Cuddle Heart approached him, this succulent morsel of fur and used her delectable flippers to open his lips, pressing her mouth onto them. She murmured as she kissed him, the absence of his passion only intensified the lock of her lips on his and the dance of her tongue in his mouth. She could feel him try to take in labored breaths, and yet she didn't let go, she hungered for him to suffer in this way.
Tenderly she fingered the symbol on Masquerade Bears stomach, a delicate red mask embroidered in gold as she buried her head in his silky brown fur and listened to the soft drowning noise of blood throbbing through his veins. His was fragrant with the smell of fairy floss intertwined with cinnamon.
"Your mine again Masquerade," she muttered, adrenaline pulsed through her body, beads of sweat trickled down her back, she moved the damp fur that lay plastered to her brow with her long fingers as she pulled away from Masquerade Bear and reached for the broken wine bottle and a small old leather bound volume that Masquerade had been clutching in his paws. Pouring herself the remains of the red wine into a jar she began to frantically paging through the old volume, the old address book.
She studied the words scrawled awkwardly in black ink. It was difficult to make out these strange symbols, crudely written on the parchment, until she discovered these words where names of bears who lived fair away, most likely long gone, there was none she recognized. Draining the red wine from the jar she turned the old book over and started to fumble through its pages once more, surly there was a name she recognized.
And there it was, a name she recognized, a name she new only to well. It was circled in red. She shut her eyes tightly and lay back, letting the wind caress her over heated face, letting her multicolored shawl slip from her shoulders.
A moan escaped Masquerades lips, Cuddle Heart turned and faced him, clutching his wrist in her hands, she was tired, weary, this had to be done or he would not stay hers. Grasping the exquisite walking stick Cuddle Heart, in one clumsily motion, thrust it into the air. She, rocking from side to side, remembered that night as she plunged the walking stick down.
The last thing she heard, was the muttering of a sentence that echoed in her head, it was from Masquerade. "I tried so hard to save you,"
