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Description

"Gather round folks, I gotcha an excellent tale to tell. Keep your little ones close 'n yer tail tucked in closer."

Scampering and scuttling can be heard on the outskirts of the crowd, as a cloud of darkness engulfs the outside leaving a backlit Icarus standing in front of the bonfire.

"This is the tale of how the Spine of the Frost Devil earned it's name. Hopflight says he might've named it as some sort of rivalry thing, but there's a different story behind it all..."

---

In the mountains, shortly after the calamity, cats were stranded up in the mountains with no means of escape. The winds that blew could claim toes and limbs within hours, cats that thought they could brave the cold could be seen as unmoving specks in the distance. There was nothing that could be done, except to weather the cold. Huddled together for warmth, seven cats were all clinging to each other in a nook that offered them at least some shelter from the unforgiving weather conditions.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll be able to leave and go from there.

The snow continues to fall.

A day passes. Another, and and another... Time itself became blurry as the snow piled. They eventually were able to shape a makeshift snow cave around them, the comfort that it offered was very little. The cats all grew to be incredibly weak, nothing left for them to eat but half melted snow.

When they were all too hungry, they had to do something. Anything. Just to not feel the clawing hunger in their throats. One cat was far weaker than the others, and the group came to a consensus.

For the good of the group.

They had no other choice, they living were so hungry... They had to resort to the unthinkable. Their body provided sustenance, their pelt offering at least one more thing against the biting cold.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll give them a proper send off.

The snow continues to fall.

Not a single thing had changed outside, the cats still doing what they can to hold on. One morning, the group woke up to two cats dead, their blood frozen in the snow. Panic spread amongst the remaining cats, how did they die? How could this have happened? All they could see was a hole punched in each cat's neck. Was it something that had broken in at night? There were no tracks or traces to be found, the pristine white floor sitting undisturbed except for where cats where huddled. With no evidence as to what had killed them, the four split into pairs of two. Each pair stuck close to a body, eventually caving in again and repeating the gruesome act that they had committed with their last fallen friend.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll find out what had done them in.

More time passes. No one has any idea how long it's been at this point. Previous thoughts seemed like stupid ones, as the chances of anything changing seemed hopeless. The two pairs had started to huddle together again, a make-shift blanket of their fellows pelts covering them. Few words were exchanged as they conserved what dredges of strength that they had, all unmoving... till another morning, the cats woke up to another one of themselves dead. The same kind of hole in their neck, but punctured three times. Still no tracks of snow, no scent.

It had to be one of the three remaining cats. All of them were barely clinging to life though, how were they supposed to know who? What way was there of even finding out?

"It wasn't me, I was the furthest away."
"It wasn't me, my leg is lame. Moving would kill me at this point."
"It wasn't me, my eyes have been frozen shut for ages now."

Unable to come to a conclusion on their own, they spaced apart from each other as far as they could manage. The next day, only two woke up. They could both see the third cat, the one with a bad leg, lying in a pile of blood red snow. The cat that could still see looked onto the blind cat with disgust and horror, not understanding why he'd do something so senseless.

To his luck, his body was fine. The first pelt had been his to keep warm.

It was all too easy to kill the barely moving blind cat, he was surprised that they had been the one that committed all the killings. He gleefully congratulated himself, figuring he could stay warm with all the pelts there were. He could at least try to make it out with a chance.

After I get through this storm, I can celebrate that I'm alive.

Cleaning off his claws, he had been so unfocused he hadn't noticed or heard a thing.

All he felt was a thunk. Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

It had gone on for so long all he felt was warmth, and then... nothing.

A cat stood over him, leg twisted and icicle in paw. She stood there trembling, but not from the cold. Breathing with no puffs of air.

She dropped the icicle onto his body, watching it melt away from the little heat that remained.

The cat was clenching and unclenching her paw, staring down at it. How was she still alive? Everything had felt so cold since long ago, it was unfair that others were so warm. It was unfair that they'd keep that warmth for themselves. It was unfair that they did nothing as she froze.

So she would take that warmth for herself.

She left the cave, a shambling mess of cat pelts.

In her trail, there's be a mismatched set of tracks and ashen strewn off to the side, a single hole in their necks or through their chests as the rest of their carcass was frozen over.

The "Frozen Devil", Hellions began to nervously sing. No matter where she'd go, the clouds would follow. The snow would follow. The cold would follow.

Her paws were dusted in ice, her icicle red with the crusted blood of her victims.

Friend to neither cat nor ashen, both would try to kill her. None would succeed. The mountains that she roamed began to become a frozen wasteland of corpses, the living were too wary to enter the area.

The ice buildup never stopped growing, rising higher... higher... higher... Until you saw their peaks fade into the sky. The mountains peak's looked like the spine of the land, jutting out for as far as the eye could see.

She never stopped roaming her territory, always managing to find a clueless victim.

After I get through this storm, she thought. I'll be warm forever.

Just a little more warmth,

Icarus faded into the darkness surrounding the fire.

just a little more warmth...

just... a little... more... warmth...

The seeker leaps out from behind an audience member, icicle in paw menacingly.

She still roams around, looking for more warmth. More warmth so she can be free.

---

Words: 1199

---

For the fireside tales Winterfest Objective!

Description

"Gather round folks, I gotcha an excellent tale to tell. Keep your little ones close 'n yer tail tucked in closer."

Scampering and scuttling can be heard on the outskirts of the crowd, as a cloud of darkness engulfs the outside leaving a backlit Icarus standing in front of the bonfire.

"This is the tale of how the Spine of the Frost Devil earned it's name. Hopflight says he might've named it as some sort of rivalry thing, but there's a different story behind it all..."

---

In the mountains, shortly after the calamity, cats were stranded up in the mountains with no means of escape. The winds that blew could claim toes and limbs within hours, cats that thought they could brave the cold could be seen as unmoving specks in the distance. There was nothing that could be done, except to weather the cold. Huddled together for warmth, seven cats were all clinging to each other in a nook that offered them at least some shelter from the unforgiving weather conditions.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll be able to leave and go from there.

The snow continues to fall.

A day passes. Another, and and another... Time itself became blurry as the snow piled. They eventually were able to shape a makeshift snow cave around them, the comfort that it offered was very little. The cats all grew to be incredibly weak, nothing left for them to eat but half melted snow.

When they were all too hungry, they had to do something. Anything. Just to not feel the clawing hunger in their throats. One cat was far weaker than the others, and the group came to a consensus.

For the good of the group.

They had no other choice, they living were so hungry... They had to resort to the unthinkable. Their body provided sustenance, their pelt offering at least one more thing against the biting cold.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll give them a proper send off.

The snow continues to fall.

Not a single thing had changed outside, the cats still doing what they can to hold on. One morning, the group woke up to two cats dead, their blood frozen in the snow. Panic spread amongst the remaining cats, how did they die? How could this have happened? All they could see was a hole punched in each cat's neck. Was it something that had broken in at night? There were no tracks or traces to be found, the pristine white floor sitting undisturbed except for where cats where huddled. With no evidence as to what had killed them, the four split into pairs of two. Each pair stuck close to a body, eventually caving in again and repeating the gruesome act that they had committed with their last fallen friend.

The blizzard won't last forever. They thought. After this storm passes, we'll find out what had done them in.

More time passes. No one has any idea how long it's been at this point. Previous thoughts seemed like stupid ones, as the chances of anything changing seemed hopeless. The two pairs had started to huddle together again, a make-shift blanket of their fellows pelts covering them. Few words were exchanged as they conserved what dredges of strength that they had, all unmoving... till another morning, the cats woke up to another one of themselves dead. The same kind of hole in their neck, but punctured three times. Still no tracks of snow, no scent.

It had to be one of the three remaining cats. All of them were barely clinging to life though, how were they supposed to know who? What way was there of even finding out?

"It wasn't me, I was the furthest away."
"It wasn't me, my leg is lame. Moving would kill me at this point."
"It wasn't me, my eyes have been frozen shut for ages now."

Unable to come to a conclusion on their own, they spaced apart from each other as far as they could manage. The next day, only two woke up. They could both see the third cat, the one with a bad leg, lying in a pile of blood red snow. The cat that could still see looked onto the blind cat with disgust and horror, not understanding why he'd do something so senseless.

To his luck, his body was fine. The first pelt had been his to keep warm.

It was all too easy to kill the barely moving blind cat, he was surprised that they had been the one that committed all the killings. He gleefully congratulated himself, figuring he could stay warm with all the pelts there were. He could at least try to make it out with a chance.

After I get through this storm, I can celebrate that I'm alive.

Cleaning off his claws, he had been so unfocused he hadn't noticed or heard a thing.

All he felt was a thunk. Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

Thunk.

It had gone on for so long all he felt was warmth, and then... nothing.

A cat stood over him, leg twisted and icicle in paw. She stood there trembling, but not from the cold. Breathing with no puffs of air.

She dropped the icicle onto his body, watching it melt away from the little heat that remained.

The cat was clenching and unclenching her paw, staring down at it. How was she still alive? Everything had felt so cold since long ago, it was unfair that others were so warm. It was unfair that they'd keep that warmth for themselves. It was unfair that they did nothing as she froze.

So she would take that warmth for herself.

She left the cave, a shambling mess of cat pelts.

In her trail, there's be a mismatched set of tracks and ashen strewn off to the side, a single hole in their necks or through their chests as the rest of their carcass was frozen over.

The "Frozen Devil", Hellions began to nervously sing. No matter where she'd go, the clouds would follow. The snow would follow. The cold would follow.

Her paws were dusted in ice, her icicle red with the crusted blood of her victims.

Friend to neither cat nor ashen, both would try to kill her. None would succeed. The mountains that she roamed began to become a frozen wasteland of corpses, the living were too wary to enter the area.

The ice buildup never stopped growing, rising higher... higher... higher... Until you saw their peaks fade into the sky. The mountains peak's looked like the spine of the land, jutting out for as far as the eye could see.

She never stopped roaming her territory, always managing to find a clueless victim.

After I get through this storm, she thought. I'll be warm forever.

Just a little more warmth,

Icarus faded into the darkness surrounding the fire.

just a little more warmth...

just... a little... more... warmth...

The seeker leaps out from behind an audience member, icicle in paw menacingly.

She still roams around, looking for more warmth. More warmth so she can be free.

---

Words: 1199

---

For the fireside tales Winterfest Objective!