- Dec 17, 2022
- 680
- 374
- 63
β§ββΊ οΈοΈοΈ οΈοΈβ± οΈοΈοΈ οΈοΈ οΈοΈοΈ The pleasant crunch of grass beneath his paws still sounds so terribly offβ an unfamiliar rhythm, lumbering and slow. A rapid-fire one two three, and a pause as his limbs gather beneath him. A push and a hop with an awkward landing. However much practice he may get in walking this way will never be enough to smooth his gait to what it once was. Years of his life are now incompatible with his body. From the first few ambling steps he had taken. . . all of it, useless. On his less introspective days he catches himself thinking of the past with the body that he now inhabits. A blazing-striped kitten tumbles about with three limbs instead of four. A young warrior uses his teeth more than his claws. (That, he thinks, is the worst change of all. To lose the quick swipes he had once grown so comfortable with.)
Remembering that he had changed is nearly as terrible as waking to the wound had been to begin with. It is easier, and that too is a source of pain.
Lost in his thoughts as he is, the impact is unexpected.
The rustling of grass gives way to a shadow on the breeze β a black spot that blots out the sun, and then a heavy, crushing weight upon the back of his neck. Somewhere between stumbling with the impact and realizing what had happened, there is an outraged cry far above his head. But the shadow is gone by the time that the esteemed leader is flat upon his side. Throughout the entire ordeal he had not made a single sound. Blank eyes blink rapidly (an error code flashing somewhere behind them) at the far distance, and besides Sunstar in the flattened moorland grass, there is a fish. Its tail smacks weakly into the earth, claw marks gouged across its exposed side, and the warrior mutters, "What in StarClan's name. . ."
Remembering that he had changed is nearly as terrible as waking to the wound had been to begin with. It is easier, and that too is a source of pain.
Lost in his thoughts as he is, the impact is unexpected.
The rustling of grass gives way to a shadow on the breeze β a black spot that blots out the sun, and then a heavy, crushing weight upon the back of his neck. Somewhere between stumbling with the impact and realizing what had happened, there is an outraged cry far above his head. But the shadow is gone by the time that the esteemed leader is flat upon his side. Throughout the entire ordeal he had not made a single sound. Blank eyes blink rapidly (an error code flashing somewhere behind them) at the far distance, and besides Sunstar in the flattened moorland grass, there is a fish. Its tail smacks weakly into the earth, claw marks gouged across its exposed side, and the warrior mutters, "What in StarClan's name. . ."
π πππ ππππ ππππ ππ πππππππ β± οΈοΈοΈ
( ππππ π πππ πππ ) οΈοΈοΈ οΈοΈοΈ β06.17β
πα¨
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β§ββΊ οΈοΈοΈ οΈοΈβ± οΈοΈοΈ οΈοΈ οΈοΈοΈ OOC. a hawk dropped its catch on top of sun <3
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a large chocolate and white rosette tom with seaglass eyes. the first thing many see when looking at sunstar now is not his proud posture or boxy build, but the scarred stump that remains of his front left leg. a wound that would have killed most other cats took one of his lives; not even starclan could repair it.
a rogue brought to windclan in a search for greatness, one of sootstar's most loyal warriors turned into her downfall. with a mate and kits to worry about, and now nine lives from starclan with a missing limb, windclan's leader has much to prove. -
