Board Thread:Fun and Games/@comment-27669385-20160709225252/@comment-33008190-20160710055451

(Idk where Crag is so)

He decided to go out hunting.

Craig glanced around the caves once more, stepping out into the cold, unknowing it was his last time he'd be by his home.

He turned right.

The prey was luckier there, and Crag was feeling extra hungry today. He needed to put on weight for the leafbare.

He stared at the dying bushes, looking for any signs of prey.

The snow was heavy, coating the ground, making the rocks and ledges almost invisible.

Invisible enough to go the wrong way...

He turned away and padded through the snow easily almost like he was sliding. Crag sniffed the air.

I think I smell a--"

He was plummeting through air in a second.

He was there in the snow, unaware of what ground beneath him was there, unaware the rock ledge was crumbling from the years of erosion and epheavy snow.

It was like a mini landslide. Craig screamed and went downwards dramatically, expecting he would hit ground.

When he did, it wasn't what he thought.

The jagged edges jabbed into his back, bringing merciless pain. He gurgled out screams as he flipped ove,r his mind and eyes dizzying, vile rising in his throat.

He was tumbling down again, rolling and rolling and dizziness and more.

Every few seconds while he was in the air, it was like a chilly place of peace and tranquility, no cold snow or hurtful rocks, just--

He smashed down hard into a rugged peak again, feeling things crack beneath him. Snap and pop and rip and tear. More screams and unbearable pain. This was a brutal death, and he finally knew what it felt like.

Craig expected it to be over soon. A patrol would get him, he would get treated and rest for a few moons--things would be alright, and...

The last smash into slippery, wet snow and hardened rock was the worst.

He felt his spine snap. Then paws and tail and every little tiny tendon. The pain was gone now, as there was nothing left of him to be able to feel.

Lastly, his necked snapped violently to the left, separating his head from all rightful bones. Internal bleeding.

Eyes slowly getting darker.

Praying to his home and his life, his friends and family and loved ones.

He thought the mini landslide of rocks that caused him to take this unholy tumble was bad--he was almost dead now with no hope.

But the last noises in his throat, barely emitting out across the clearing, came when he looked up into the white sky.

And saw piles of white fall for white, below them a growing shadow.

The snow first hit his stomach hurtfully first, causing him to shoot upright--with muscles he didn't know where still attached. That brought extra pain and suffering, and the tears in his eyes cried to let him go in peace.

Then it was like a heavy clump of kittens plummeting onto his body, the freezing snow melting and dripping into his skin, frosting his bones.

More snow fell from the tumble, where rocks once were, and where the snow lay atop. It fell all around Crag in a dazzling crash.

And the worst went straight onto his head and chest, constricting him and pushing him down farther, causing him to see nothing but a dark white.

More piled and he felt the weight go deeper. Deeper, deeper.

Deeper he was buried.

Deeper the pain grew.

Deeper he he fell into the endless pool of ebony oblivion.

He suffocated in a frozen clump of mass death.