Thread: Lost Wishes [Cheshire Smirk and Shaelinn]

Cassy didn't ask much from her life. A decent food to fill her stomach with, few hours of undisturbed sleep and not being ripped to shreds by blood lust crazed werewolves was all she ultimately desired any discomfort would be a fair price for fulfilling those basic needs. Well, at least that's what she had thought until the leader of their little group got the brilliant idea of venturing into the fucking desert. The wind howled ominously the fabric wrapped around her face for protection worked rather well, but she could still feel the grains of sand getting under her clothes and irritating her skin. Neither the vicious sun roasting her alive nor her itchiness made the march any more bearable. They had been walking since morning without any rest well, 'walking' was a generous word. 'Plodding desperately' would be a better term to use in the description. The weight of baggage each of their group carried on their backs was dragging them down and thirst was burning their throats. Nobody could really call Cassy a spoiled princess, but her pain receptors still functioned and she wasn't exactly immune to this kind of torture. 'Safety reasons' my ass! Yes, werewolves may be less likely to appear there, but that's only because they have way more common sense than us. For fuck's sake, who'd willingly enter this hell?! If they don't get us, the heat surely will. Now that Cassy thought about it, she'd actually prefer the werewolves if she had the privilege of choosing their fangs would at least be quick to tear through her delicate skin. Though if I could select any method of death, old-fashionable cyanide pill is my number one choice. Fast, reliable and leaves a beautiful corpse. Carbon monoxide poisoning would provide a nice departure from life as well in the right concentration, but it wouldn't be too elegant in terms of execution. Hmm, what else... Bullet in the head? she thought with traces of dark humor, forcing herself to go on through sheer determination despite her fatigue. Fantasizing about one's demise was probably a sign of developing mental disorder in civilized world, but the place they lived in had been stripped of that fanciful title a long ago. The blood smeared future held no promise of the situation getting better and Cassy actually found comfort in getting familiar with the concept she probably wouldn't live long enough to experience her hair turning gray numbing her feelings concerning that matter significantly reduced the fear. Not completely, of course, but human mind had the handy ability of getting used to anything. The initial paralyzing fright had worn off to be replaced with a slow, lingering paranoia that had eventually banished them to the desert. Honestly, had the leader asked her for her opinion, she would have sent him where the sun doesn't shine, but their group practiced democracy or rights of an individual from very abstract angle. It was either 'go with us' or 'rot somewhere in a canal' , and nothing really encouraged her to try out the latter option. Cassy felt a touch on her shoulder and jerked away instinctively when she turned around, she found herself staring into Finn's green eyes. Are you okay, Cass? You don't look that well. Well, no shit, I forgot my make-up kit at home, Cassy thought, but managed to hold her tongue back. Her brother broke the formation just to ensure she was alright a snappy remark would be a little inappropriate here. Besides, he must have been tired as well. Yeah, I'll live. Don't worry about me and return to your position before they decide to cut your pinkie off for sabotaging our defense plan, she smiled weakly, her lips parched from thirst. A defense plan. Ha! My sense of humor is getting more and more refined. Their motto 'run as fast as you can at the first sight of danger and never look back' mostly paid off, but she was a little hesitant to call the flight a plan. Finn returned her smile, patted her on her shoulder reassuringly and did as she told him. He was a good boy a good boy and only family Cassy had. The standoffish attitude she was blessed with caused he may have very well been also her only true friend, but not even a professional torture technician would be able to beat the admission out of her. Apocalypse or not, certain things never changed the never-ending war of sibling rivalry continued and overt displays of affection could destroy her chances of winning. Putting her feet forward mechanically, Cassy almost wished she could join her brother on the patrol, but another of new rules prohibited it while women needed to be adept at self-defense in order to survive, protecting the group ultimately wasn't their concern. Popping out children is. God forbid if they were to lose a perfectly good womb in some stupid scuffle. Recent events had pushed feminist movement's efforts right back to the stone age with ease. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, the leader commanded them to stop and build a camp. The nomadic lifestyle they'd been leading had taught them an importance of a good teamwork, so they worked in flawless synchronicity on setting up the tents. Cassy's back hurt as if she had substituted Atlas in his tremendous ask of carrying the sky on his shoulders, but no complaints could be heard from her instead, she gritted her teeth and helped with preparations as much as she could. Both tiredness and bad mood kept their mouths shut not a single word was uttered aside from few necessary instructions. Sweat was running down her forehead by the time they were done, but the reward - the well-deserved rest - outshone the trouble. Cassy almost waltzed off into one of the tents, pulled out a sleeping bag out of her rucksack and spread it on the ground carefully. A content sigh left her lips as she finally shed the numerous layers of shawls wrapped around her face Cassy shook her head, her curly strawberry blonde hair whipping wildly in the moment of sweet liberation. The scene actually looked quite stunning and reminded of a caterpillar's transformation into butterfly with her fair, freckles-sprayed skin, small nose and full lips, Cassy was far from ugly. Yawning, she reached into the depths of her backpack again, this time to find her treasure and personal connection to civilization... A pencil and a thick brown notebook. It wasn't exactly a diary its pages contained mostly thoughts, inner monologues of cyclic nature that never seemed to lead anywhere. Confiding her ideas to paper soothed her in a strange way and she made sure to write at least a paragraph every day. The sleep could wait for a while she couldn't just ignore her daily ritual. Not bothering with literary finesses or proper language, Cassy sat down comfortably and let the pencil dance on the blank page.