Recent content by FERNGILL

CONTENT WARNING: In-depth descriptions of violence. It's quick, it's... always too quick. Something that goes terribly wrong in an instant; by now he should be used to it, that sting of battle, the shuddering panic of something that felt irreversible. He hears Iciclefang's shout— to leave him...

The Thunderclanners anger quickly— he should have been expecting it, really, but Ferngill's muscles tense with shock all the same. A frantic eye flits between them, and his tongue prickles with the need to interject. They hadn't stolen any prey, they hadn't— he could make them listen, surely. It...

The pain of Lichenstar's death lingers in his throat, saddening the verdancy of his eye. Since Sablemist had disappeared, it has been hard to keep any brightness about himself.... and with battering misfortune, it got no easier. For all RiverClan's struggle and for all they had disagreed about...

The feeling of sand beneath Ferngill's paws, especially here- nerves thought long-abandoned rose, twisting through his gut. Cragpaw had been training for six moons, now- oh, he could hardly believe it had been that long! His sister was a warrior now, and yet... there was not much softness...

The leader's den loomed with a new darkness. When Ferngill entered- warning given, of course- he felt his pelt crawl in a way it never had in these walls, felt a discomfort sprawling through his gut at every private memory here. Freshest of all was the exposure of his omission of his niece and...

Cold, it was cold in here... Ferngill felt the bite of every frosty glare, the sprawling prickling of ice-shard. His sister sat before them all- put on trial, and he didn't understand it, didn't understand it at all. Why this had to be in front of everyone, why Lichenstar had to make this even...

Victory spat in the air, and Ferngill felt it- it flung from Turtledove's maw, but he couldn't find it in himself to be happy. Shell-shocked stillness found its eternal place on graceful features, marring him completely- he stuck close to Iciclefang, a verdant eye trained entirely on his neice...

She may turn up. It was an odd sort of optimism he hadn't bee expecting from Iciclefang- but it was a truth, all the same. Usually her honesty came in sharp as ice-shards, and though he had not been expecting it, the warmth stung almost the same. Throat thick and raw, he couldn't speak- it was...

It was over, it was theirs. Breathless, Ferngill felt the prickle of exhilaration under his skin- but this victory wasn't a sweet thing for long, no. Why would it ever be? Nothing seemed to last anymore- last as long as it should, anyway. The gentle reprieve of leaf-fall, the gentle touch of...

Frost and despair bit at him, but Ferngill forged forward; maybe if he focused on nothing but movement, he would not feel the sting of any of it. The last time he had seen Sablemist's face played like a contagion upon his memory, insistent... and he hated to think of her like that, like some...

Ferngill had been pathetic in the past, but who could now blame him for it? A hollow eye gazed down at two mating stones, recalling the exstensive collection-cleanout he had embarked upon the day he and Sablemist had become mates, the way he had ensured these two stones took pride of place and...

Of course he noticed, of couse, of course. It had been too long since he'd seen his mate, a whole sunrise and sunset since he'd felt the press of her against his side, and he knew something was wrong. Dedication drove every one of Ferngill's actions- and marched him forward to gather a patrol...

Despite his generally sunny disposition, Ferngill was not one to oppose battle when it was necessary. The loss of Sunningrocks still stung, a generation later- he was only a young apprentice when they had slipped from their grasp, and he and Stormywing had batted at each others faces while...

Not many times had his sister sought comfort from him so openly. He remembered when they were younger, when he was a 'paw and she was a prodigy warrior ... when they'd spoken about Ashpaw, and everything he'd said had seemed to land on deaf ears. Since then, an unshakeable closeness had drawn...

He'd been pretty set on the name Fernclaw, when he'd been an apprentice. It'd always just sounded right, at least off the tongue - but now, he thought of being Fernclaw and thought it didn't suit him at all. It was a bit like his sister being called Icicleblossom ... sounded good, but didn't...