What is this? Some sort of lifeless hell I've entered in. I can feel the bitter chill bite at my ankles, chasing me further into the trees. Which way am I going? I don't know, running running... running. I push so hard I can feel my lungs press against my rib cage. If it wasn't for the prison my air sacks live in, they may have burst to pieces. Though I like this feeling. This bitter disgusting feeling in my gut. As if I could fall over and just die at any moment, push harder Zaron. I wonder how far I can go, in this empty home. Trees I know they fly around me, it is either the devil keeping me from colliding with them or the luck of today. Why is it so dark? The moon has left us.

Alone we are, I promise we are. A light? I see, a light. A path... An orange glow that trickles down and guides you along some trail, the trees part in its way but the snow has covered any possible hope of finding the dust it once was. In the moment of my thought, as I lose my will to watch where I am going now, something crashes into my side. Scraping down my rib cage. Leaving my left side with a brutal blow. Its still crawling against my skin, a tiny twig catches the inside of my flank and I snort roughly. The tree begins to disappear from my side as blood trickles down my coat. Freezing like black into my fur. I laugh as though I am some sort of crazed maniac. Slowing myself to stop underneath the lamp that proves it is not a hell here. Not a world of endless running. I have not died yet.

Unfortunately....

Wait what is that? My head swings to the right, causing the cuts on my left to tear open and cause some sort of enticing pain. My attention no longer on the sound that follows behind me, for I could just be insane but I place my focus on twisting my body as far as it can go. Hoping that my cut will tear farther and I can feel them peel apart. A sickening twisted smile wipes across my maw. Further I go until I look like some sort of demented equine. Until I cannot swivel any further. So I give it a rest. Turning myself to see the new wounds I have created so perfectly. I dig at what I can with my teeth. Peeling the flesh, its almost unbearable in a way... but an unbearable I can stand. Something so lovely and dear. Crimson begins to stain the floor and I smile happily. Pleased with my work.

I stare into the darkened path, seeking out the next lamp to guide me. Though I do not move, legs perfectly still, blood beginning to dry against my coat. My flank tingling and crying in pain. Pain that I almost don't feel. What is wrong with me? Is it true I am alive?