Disclaimer: Don't own.
Summary: Everyone's gone; there all dead; what's a poor fox to do?
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Wolf and the Antelope
Small-crystallized drops of water floated gently downward pulled fourth by gravities call. It was late out, nearly 1 pm, not a soul was awake, and the streets were still as death.
A cold stony silence blanketed the world, lapsing in sync with the flickering shadows casted by the one lone candle sitting in my window. No other light was seen in the darkness, it swirled tauntingly, the Hellish abyss beckoning me closer, farther away from the small light the one thing holding me to my sanity, sanity…
Funny, I was sure I didn't believe in insanity and sanity; I always thought it foolish how humans could come up with something like sane and insane. When they knew full well there was no definition of sanity, that everyone is sane in there own mind. But maybe now I was having doubts… or my rite of mind was shifting, because I was seriously contemplating blowing out the candle. The one thing holding or 'chaining' me, as I should say to my sanity, sanity…
The windowpanes shook, a quite, yet defining sound as I slowly, raised a pale shaking hand reaching out to the candle. The room started to run together, as though someone had spilled water on a painting... the fine ink of my mind ran in streams sliding slowly down the canvas, the images around me blurring and mixing, leaving me in a warped reality.
Instead my hand came to rest on the windowsill, watching, waiting?I knew not anymore, weather I was simply watching, or if I was waiting, maybe for someone, or something, maybe for time…
The wind howled pounding harder against my window, closing my eyes the image of a pack of wolves crawled into my mind.
They ran, and ran, never stopping, running farther into the darkness, their fur a mix of colors, blue, brown, black, gray, sliver, white, all splashed and blended together like mixing paints… then slowly they disappeared. The colors dissipating, shadows engulfing them, pulling and yanking them farther into the darkness their struggling forms incased in the Hell created Abyss. Until one stood, gazing longingly at the moon, it's sliver coat gleaming softly under the moonbeams glow.
Then the darkness came, crawling up in the fur, covering the legs, body, tail, and face. Until two blue eyes stared into the darkness, it did not struggle, no longer having anything to protect it allowed the Hell to capture it, to break it's bones and burn it's flesh, ripping it's soul into thousands of hanging pieces, no longer was their a purpose for it to live, a soul without a face.
The wind blew, taking the ice incased eyes with it, and any proof it ever existed, and the howling wolves called…
I smiled softly, the howling wind was paying tribute to an amazing creature, the fierce howling of the wind as it dominated the land, and the quick yet graceful jerking movements as it blew... the age old dance of the wolf and it's prey, caught in the wind.
The candle flicked, the orange flame licking the frozen window… calling, like a pack of wolves, sending signals to my thoughts and feelings, it's time...
Smiling softly I stood, taking a step backwards into the shadows; another step… soon the darkness surrounded both myself and my thoughts, hiding me with in its self, away, so far.
Flame, weak burning
Wind wipes away your tears
Burn, the shreds of sanity…
A small soft breeze blew threw the room, catching the curtains in it's enticing dance, gently the flame flickered, slowly, softly, my emerald eyes slipped closed and the darkness embraced me yet unlike the wolves I went freely, I no longer had anyone to protect, to love, or to fight for, so alone I was, like the wolf, both he and I were the same...
The howling wolves called.
Slipping into the darkness the flames faded away… And with it, my sanity…sanity… and now one.
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Point of this? None... maybe I just wnated to write angsty Kurama suicide fics?