- Aug 4, 2022
- 221
- 37
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HUMBLE MY BONES WITH A CARDIAC
siltpaw | 09 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold color
siltpaw | 09 months | female | she/her | physically medium | mentally easy | attack in bold color
Despite her sudden bout of confidence in the face of fire, all her borrowed courage seems to have fled Siltpaw the moment things had settled down. Greif fills the air - almost as tangible as a taste or a scent. Pitchstar was one of many siblings, and a respected leader... if not the most well-loved. It is a blow to shadowclan as a whole.
But the girl does not care for the clan as a whole - never has, not really. She knows she is not quite right, a broken little thing, but she cannot find it within herself to regret her actions. She'd chose them again in a heartbeat. But... she does wish it hadn't hurt Nettlepaw. Dull green gaze have not left her friends brown-and-black frame since the moment she'd came careening into the camp with her sob story on the tip of her tongue. Nettlepaw, poor Nettlepaw. Nettlepaw who had already lost his mother. Nettlepaw who had shared her grief, had been there for her when even Granitepaw couldn't and wouldn't. Nettlepaw who's brother was now gone because of hers. How cruel this world was.
She feels... guilty, she thinks. It's a sharp sort of feeling, painful and bitter, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. She dislikes it evenly. Green eyes are worried, her actions warm but stilted, uncertain. She has never been good at this, not once has she ben able to say or do the right thing when it matters most. But... she want's to help him, if she can. Mouthfuls of feathers begged and borrowed and stolen, scraps of the plushest of moss, the softest ferns - all have been gathered together as an offering - an apology for a deed she will never speak of, will never think of again after today.
A plump frog, freshly caught and killed herself after hours of patiently waiting and persistently searching held in her jaws. She doesn't know his favorite prey, but she can offer hers if only it could make up for... everything, she supposes. Placing the prey down alongside the rest of the pitiful collection of comforts, she watches the boy with a pained gaze, the words slipping past her lips without her permission. "... Nettlepaw," She doesn't know what else to say. Is there even anything she can say? Would she just make it worse? Could anything ever make it better?
// @.NETTLEPAW.
But the girl does not care for the clan as a whole - never has, not really. She knows she is not quite right, a broken little thing, but she cannot find it within herself to regret her actions. She'd chose them again in a heartbeat. But... she does wish it hadn't hurt Nettlepaw. Dull green gaze have not left her friends brown-and-black frame since the moment she'd came careening into the camp with her sob story on the tip of her tongue. Nettlepaw, poor Nettlepaw. Nettlepaw who had already lost his mother. Nettlepaw who had shared her grief, had been there for her when even Granitepaw couldn't and wouldn't. Nettlepaw who's brother was now gone because of hers. How cruel this world was.
She feels... guilty, she thinks. It's a sharp sort of feeling, painful and bitter, leaving her feeling hollow and empty. She dislikes it evenly. Green eyes are worried, her actions warm but stilted, uncertain. She has never been good at this, not once has she ben able to say or do the right thing when it matters most. But... she want's to help him, if she can. Mouthfuls of feathers begged and borrowed and stolen, scraps of the plushest of moss, the softest ferns - all have been gathered together as an offering - an apology for a deed she will never speak of, will never think of again after today.
A plump frog, freshly caught and killed herself after hours of patiently waiting and persistently searching held in her jaws. She doesn't know his favorite prey, but she can offer hers if only it could make up for... everything, she supposes. Placing the prey down alongside the rest of the pitiful collection of comforts, she watches the boy with a pained gaze, the words slipping past her lips without her permission. "... Nettlepaw," She doesn't know what else to say. Is there even anything she can say? Would she just make it worse? Could anything ever make it better?
// @.NETTLEPAW.
