this is how an angel dies [picasso]

Denim wandered the tranquil wilderness, eyes downcast. He was becoming accustomed to the lonesome life of his, and he had come to enjoy the silence. Being alone with his thoughts was something Denim had feared would turn him mad, but Denim no longer cared. Since Natiri had left and Take had grown up, Denim had tried to find new animals to speak to, but all had never ended in friendship. He cast his mind back to the meeting with Brooke's daughter, Addia. It had only been a month ago, and he had enjoyed speaking to her. But Denim could see Addia was uncomfortable around a former Iris-leader's son. He didn't want her to grow distant, but Denim feared that would be what happened. She was blind and vulnerable. Sighing, Denim gazed up at the clear sky. The air still had a bite to it, but it was definitely getting warmer, something Denim was thankful about. It had felt as though winter had lasted far longer than usual.

He weaved through the thick trees, the sunlight shrouded by the leaves above. The temperature was dropping and the sun was soon to set. Denim knew he should find shelter for the night, but he was also keen on exploring. The forest was silent, void of any life whatsoever. Denim had heard rumours of a war brewing from the Tempest. He was sure the Iris weren't ready for what the Tempest had prepared. They were weak without a leader, and Tempest were going to use that to their advantage. And it would mean the dogs would win. As much as he hated Iris, and the war, Denim knew the two animals living side by side would never be an option. There was too much blood on each of their paws, and vengeance played on their mind. Tempest winning the war would turn the entire feline race into slaves, and Denim feared the cats were too weak to fight back.

Pushing his nose through the bushes, he came across the railway. An old, rusting train lay on the track. Nostalgia nearly knocked Denim off his paws, as he remembered the day he and Natiri met. He had almost forgotten the time they could both fit underneath that train. They had been so tiny. A smile played on his lips as he approached the familiar train. It had been a beginning of a friendship that had possibly turned into love. Denim circled the train once, the memories washing over him. It felt nice, but it also ached. His heart throbbed sadly. How had he messed it all up? Natiri had been his one and only friend, and she'd left without a goodbye. He should've followed her scent, tracked her down and confronted her. But for what? She clearly didn't want to be part of Denim's life anymore. Trying to find her would be all in vain.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Denim begun to walk away from the train that had changed his life. There was no use wondering about the past. Iri was gone, and Denim was alone. He started to walk along the tracks, watching his paws and the wooden slats beneath. He walked for several minutes before he smelled something familiar. Freezing, Denim held his breath. He knew he must be imagining it. His mind was playing tricks on him because of his aching heart. Closing his eyes, Denim lifted his head, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of Iri. He'd almost forgotten how good she smelled until it was right here, filling his nostrils. With baited breath, Denim slowly blinked his eyes open, to see the canine standing on the same tracks, looking exactly the same as she did when she disappeared a year ago.

"Iri." Denim breathed out in less than a whisper, voice filled with a thousand feelings. Anguish, heartache, disbelief and anger. Denim stood there with a hanging jaw and wide eyes, swearing to the Gods he must be dreaming.

Kezz
It was as though time had frozen as the two noticed each other for the first time. The world faded from behind her. Nothing else mattered in the world when Iri was here. Blinking in rapid succession, his throat felt dry from uttering her single name. There was a flicker of recognition on her features, and Denim watched in slow motion as the bitch took three measured steps towards him, before stopping. His heart ached in his ribcage, thumping eagerly to bridge the gap between them. The wailing cub inside of him was yearning to tackle her to the ground, as though no time had passed since they'd been young. He longed to touch her, breathe her, feel her, but Denim's paws were stuck to the cold ground, frozen in shock and despair. As much as Denim was thrilled to see Natiri, he knew it would never be the same. She had left him alone, with a puppy to bring up. She'd taken the coward's way out, and Denim had spent years of loneliness. She was the one person in the entire city that grounded him. She gave him purpose.

Time began to speed up as Natiri uttered her own words. Yes, it's me, Denim's fleeting thought. Time was slowly speeding up. The leaves rustled on the trees above, the breeze floating through his and her's fur. Yet Denim had no idea what to do next. His jaw hung open, drinking in Natiri's appearance. She had barely changed since they'd last seen each other. Stuck for words, he tried to avert his gaze. His eyes refused to leave her. She was the one thing Denim had held important to his heart. Some may say he wore his heart on his sleeve, but no. He had let Natiri into the deepest crevices of his heart, and she had left. A scream, a shout, a roar bubbled up inside Denim's throat, but he quashed it. There was no use shouting.

Before Denim knew what was happening, his knees begun to shake. His whole body buckled under his flimsy legs, and he collapsed to the ground with a distinguishing thud. Groaning, Denim stared up at his true love, fur prickling with anger and lust. She was here. She was truly here, and who knew if she had wanted to see him again? She had left. Denim finally chewed over his words, picking them carefully so not to begin an argument.

"You... left me." Unaccusing, just said. Pathetic, even. But Denim needed to know the truth, and the only one who could give him that was Iri.