cnida

He was too young to die. That was the only thought running through the tern’s mind, once sleek wing now mangled and oozing blood, lopsided and useless. His flock had left long ago, not one sparing a backwards glance as they continued on. That was the nature of migration, he conceded- would he have done any different? It was a part of life. Natural. Not everyone makes it to the end. Of course, these hollow platitudes did nothing now that he was the one left to die. It was just… unfair. With nothing left to do, he surveyed the lonely landscape around him. Hopping over the ice, resisting the urge to flap his wings, he clambered up a steep peak of ice to view his impromptu prison. Rolling hills of packed white now and bluish translucent ice met his eye, catching the waning sunlight in a kaleidoscope of color and sparkle. The sky was a supernatural blue, scattered with stars on one side, painted by sunset on the other. White clouds hung in the air as if fixed there, the cold air keeping