Recent content by Blinding Star

The fog of dream sleep is subtle. Unnoticeable, until you see it part before you. When he lived – when he’d had his sight, he’d always felt the ground shudder beneath his paws. The waves he made, though real to him, were a thing unseeable to the cats before him. Now, a starry wraith, the air...

[ CW: death :( ] Coherent thought slips further from him by the second. Fleeting, barely there, the sun refusing its eclipse by the moon, the spark of a soul left fighting. They all blur together, voices melding into sounds, into noises, chirups of sound without rhyme or reason. He's swaying on...

He can't remember the last time he was alone. The last time he was left to his own devices, allowed himself to be. The anxiety was still there, sinking, creeping feeling along his spine, a pit in his stomach. The twitch of muscle before he can truly loosen up, the hesitation before each and...

It's fine, she insists, and he tries to believe her. He does, he tries— I needed to get away. His ears prick at her words. Something they had in common, maybe. How suffocating it was in Thunderclan. Maybe he could relax, if only a little. The ground remains clear at paws, he's yet to stumble...

There were murmurings near by, not a single voice that he recognizes. Of course, it's not like he knew every voice in Thunderclan; every tone and cadence, every inflection, but still... maybe it's worth investigating, if only to be nosy. Abruptly, the murmurings stop, and then one of the voice...

Leaf-fall is settling in. Instead of never-ending heat beating down on him, it'd be balanced out with an ever-present breeze, perfect weather for lounging. The world is cooling off, and soon, they'd be settled into brisk weather. But for now, he'd enjoy the warmth it has to offer. Or at least...

He isn't sure who answers. The voice doesn't exactly ring familiar— maybe distantly, something dull ringing in the back of his mind. She's hesitant, the answer comes after some aching moments of silence., long enough for embarrassment to settle into his skin. Shame and relief bundle together...

Steady footing, steady mind... Blinding Star treads through the forest. Perhaps he's a bit slower than he'd like— perhaps his steps are a notch too heavy— but he's managing it. The ground feels familiar, even if he can't see it. Here, the undergrowth gradually becomes more sparse. Less and less...

Thunderclan's deputy speaks above them, and it's fitting, Howling Wind's position. He can tell from her voice, the way she carries her words is natural, fitting of a leader. A fine choice for a deputy, he concludes. He'd known she would be— but it seemed like little at the start. Nothing had...

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( ✧ ) He made no attempt at prey - he knew better than to embarass himself here. Even amongst the lowly in this clan, he had a scrap of dignity to maintain. He was hear for fresh air, a cleared head... Of course, he never got such a thing amongst Thunderclan's residents. An Abrupt stop had lead...

( ✧ ) "I'm not so sure," he mutters back, jaw clenched in the beginnings of a grimace. He'd consider Howling Wind competent, but for the wary faith she puts in the leader. Still, he can agree with her to an extent. Murderer or not, (certainly, in this case), she was in no way stable enough for...

( ✧ ) Things were changing. He didn't know how to feel, how to think. He only knew to maintain his distance, keep a careful ear pricked towards the wretched. He listened as names were given, as titles were bestowed, as the murderer among them feigned apology, only to oppose the very leader she...

( ✧ ) Another day, another attempt. To try and pretend that everything's normal, that life will carry on no matter what happens; but it wasn't the same. The world was bleak, not even the stars his clan regarded so highly were something he could see. Loved ones blind to his naked eye, only cold...

( ✧ ) He'd come outside today. Perhaps it was a mistake. In one odd moment, where spirit and cheer had flowed through him like a wayward wind, completely out of place amongst the melancholy tides of late, he'd been spurred out of camp. Voices were harder to recall than faces and patterns, he's...