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Winter again. Cassiel doesn’t know why she does this every year, during the dark hours of the night when the sky is a deep, abyssal blue. She trudges out in the snow alone, fur-lined blanket barely hugging her, the white powder crunching beneath her boots with each step.
She’s not cold, she thinks. Cassiel didn’t even bundle up properly this time, and her reasoning for it is that the corrosion has started to take feeling from her, in her right arm specifically. The tips of her fingers buzz lightly, and she doesn’t even know if she’s holding onto her blanket anymore, but her back feels warm and that’s proof enough.
When she reaches the clearing in the middle of the woods near her home, Cassiel stands right in the middle and stares up at the stars. The wind sings in her ears and the snowflakes dance around her and land in her hair, and she just stares up. It’s not cold.
Crouching, Cassiel falls back into the snow, limbs sprawled out as she lays naked on her blanket. The snow beneath her melts where she is warmest, and she knows it’s not cold. She can see her breath with each huff and puff, and she knows she isn’t cold.
Her right hand reaches out towards the stars, and she follows the line of her arm upward towards the very tip of her middle finger. The corrosion has marred her skin here, crystallizing it and making everyday life almost impossible now. The only thing that helps is binding the arm, force blood to flow through her veins.
Maybe she does have a reason for coming out in the night like this. Maybe it’s because she knows her life is being cut short, and she hopes that one of these nights she’ll die out here, naked as she was born many moons ago. To be honest, Cassiel doesn’t even know if that sort of end will bring her solace.
An ending like that will not make her smile, that much is certain.
Cassiel lays there for about an hour longer before rising to her feet, the blanket now folded up into a bundle against her chest. She takes one last look at the sky above her, watching the stars glitter with life, not knowing that they’ve died long ago already just like her.
The snowfall has already covered Cassiel’s tracks, but she knows her way back. Trudging through the snow alone, she walks with her fur-lined blanket held against her bare chest. She will live for another year.