- Dec 17, 2022
- 680
- 374
- 63
Just outside of camp, where the rolling black hills meet a place where the clan's final defenses had lain, Sunstar's paws seem to have taken root. He had intended only to walk. It had become a controlled pastimeβ if he is to regain the grace that he had once known, he needed to put worn, tired muscles to practice. Often they would take him along the paths of borders, or to the places where grass had parted into run-down paths.
It had escaped his mind for the briefest of moments that Wolfsong had bid him to remain in his den. That his throat was still stained a faint, terrible crimson where washing it could not cleanse him. That cobwebs still tangled in his fur. For a moment he is nothing more than a warrior of WindClan in soothing greenleaf air, his pelt ruffled by a loving breeze. And the moment that he returns to himself, he can do nothing but laugh.
A fearful noise. A mourning noise. For some short distance before his paws, where the line of decay meets moorland, there are speckles of green that dance and dart into destruction. Breaking through the layer of ash are buds of what will become a new home. Through the flames, past them, there is rebirth to be found here. But that is not the reason for his small misery. When his first reaction to such a sight is not to rejoice, but to mourn, what has this world made of him? What sort of creature had he become?
He takes a few slow steps forward. Past the line of safety, where he sinks to his belly with his nose to the dark dirt. He thinks of Bearflight, and of Bluepool. Cygnetstare's grave. The disappearances that have plagued them. He thinks of the flame, and the dog, and all the faith he had lost, and some small distance from camp, with his paw reached slowly towards a newborn blade of grass, Sunstar cries while he smiles. Just a little bit. Just enough. And he hopes that this smiling grief is enough to water the delicate renewal of life that touches them now.
It had escaped his mind for the briefest of moments that Wolfsong had bid him to remain in his den. That his throat was still stained a faint, terrible crimson where washing it could not cleanse him. That cobwebs still tangled in his fur. For a moment he is nothing more than a warrior of WindClan in soothing greenleaf air, his pelt ruffled by a loving breeze. And the moment that he returns to himself, he can do nothing but laugh.
A fearful noise. A mourning noise. For some short distance before his paws, where the line of decay meets moorland, there are speckles of green that dance and dart into destruction. Breaking through the layer of ash are buds of what will become a new home. Through the flames, past them, there is rebirth to be found here. But that is not the reason for his small misery. When his first reaction to such a sight is not to rejoice, but to mourn, what has this world made of him? What sort of creature had he become?
He takes a few slow steps forward. Past the line of safety, where he sinks to his belly with his nose to the dark dirt. He thinks of Bearflight, and of Bluepool. Cygnetstare's grave. The disappearances that have plagued them. He thinks of the flame, and the dog, and all the faith he had lost, and some small distance from camp, with his paw reached slowly towards a newborn blade of grass, Sunstar cries while he smiles. Just a little bit. Just enough. And he hopes that this smiling grief is enough to water the delicate renewal of life that touches them now.
π πππ ππππ ππππ ππ πππππππ β±
( ππππ π πππ πππ ) γ 06.17 γ
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- ooc: um i couldn't decide whether i should make this just a lil oneshot or let people find him soooo. don't feel pressured to reply to this ngl i just figured i should leave it open if anyone Wants to find him lol
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β πππππππ.βββ±ββAMABββHE - HIM - HIS.ββLEADER OF WINDCLAN.β ββββββββββββββΜ΄ΜΝΝΜ»ββΜ΅ΜΜΏΝΜΝΜΌΝ βΜΆΝΜΜ¬
ββββββa 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 a lot to prove.
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 un-windclan 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.
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