wordcount: 608
cw/tw: mentions of heroic suicide / self sacrifice, grief, victim blaming, and a lot of nihilistic sentiments
cw/tw: mentions of heroic suicide / self sacrifice, grief, victim blaming, and a lot of nihilistic sentiments
Finally it hit me that I'm watching go by —
The sight of mother mouth, tall and imperious in the boys vision, hurts in a way he hadn't known it could. He'd thought it bad enough that he'd been tricked into this trip by the stars, visions of red and memories of death heavy upon his consciousness. Tail twitches in impatient as he slips away from the group to sit by himself, pawsteps weaving a familiar path. He'd walked here once upon a time, with a grey furred feline at his side. Their moonstone trip had not been as cheery as one might've hoped - fetching marks for the grave of tigerfrost, instead of spending time celebrating snailstrides impending promotion. Now, he'll never walk side by side with them again.
And if starclan has their way, he thinks, he'll never see anyone again. He knows with every ounce of his being that the only reason sootstar had willingly let the child of a traitor go must have been because she knew the same - he was expendable, star-cursed, a trail of loved ones blood pathing his path. Gravelsnaps words had left him full of regret for having been so willing to leave them all behind - to go out and die on this stupid quest. Why had it seemed so important to go get herbs when those he loved were already healing, already recovering? Was it really up to him to save those stupid enough to get sick now that they had run out? He - he didn't even like weaselclaw, and he was out here getting herbs for him?
Head tips back to stare at the stars, twinkling in the night. "Why? Why m-must it be me? Wh-why do you t-take and take and t-take everything rom me? My parents, m-my friends, m-my- " he can't even say the words. aloud, fear coursing through his veins even as he begs and pleads. They'd stolen dazzlepaw from him already, will they take gravelsnap too? "What do you want from me? Haven't I g-g-g-given enough? How m-many more must die? Is it m-m-my blood you t-take such offense to? Or j-j-j-just me?" pained words linger in the night air, met with only silence. Tears dampen dark furred cheeks as his legs finally give out, choked sobs muffled only by teeth sinking into his leg as he buries his face in his paws. He feels so lost, wandering through each and everyday with no purpose - only pain. Every compromise he makes is not enough, they only want more.
He's tried so hard, hasn't he? He's been good - he's bowed his head to their moorland queen, cut his ties with the only mother he has left, he'd even pushed himself past all his limits to fought in their stead. And what had he gotten in return? Only more death. Is there even any point? He simply can't fathom it - what starclan wants of him. Tired mind runs through memories of his past, advice given to him by the living and dead alike - he was trying, wasn't he? To be a good windclanner, to be a good little warrior. To fight and hurt and kill, even when it didn't come naturally to him. So why was it never enough?
The sound of movement breaks the silence, and he's quick to wipe his tears as he scrambles to his blackened paws. Magpiepaw is done it seems - it's time to go now. A quiet sniffle is the only reminder of what has just come to pass as he rejoins the others, only sparring a cold look back as they leave the moonstone behind. Answers or not, they have a job to do - and he has a promise to fulfil.
— the things that once were mine
