a penny for your thoughts | starlingheart

[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

She'd been waiting for this moment. Sitting patiently for shadowclan's medic to slip from the protective walls of her den without Granitepaw in tow. She needed to speak with the molly and Tornadopaw doubted she would have been able to do so with him hanging around. Not with the way he guarded her from the world and shooed everyone off. It was as if they never had time together anymore. A fleeting intrusive thought made her wonder if they were even still friends. Her lips pursed together as she hesitates, paw hovering above the ground as the dual colored femme slipped further away. It was now or never. "H-hey! Starlingheart," The laperm shouts, huffing from the awkwardness of her gait. She should have been resting, but that could always come later. "Can I talk to you...alone?" She asked, voice tapering off into a whisper. (@STARLINGHEART .) ​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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[Starlingheart]

Whenever Granitepaw leaves the medicine cats den to go and do whatever it was he had been assigned to for the day, it feels empty. The cavernous space that Starlingheart had grown to know as a place of love, of light and happiness, felt strangely void. Especially when Magpiepaw was also gone. It reminds her of when she had first become the sole inhabitant of this den. Long cold nights spent on her own when she was used to the presence of others. Granitepaw had filled that void for her, turned her nights of solitude into nights where she could stay up whispering to her friend, laughing and talking about all the things they were going to accomplish when they were older. She watches him leave, content in the fact that he would come back, he always did. But so had Pitchstar, until he didn't. She tries not to focus on that though, and instead chooses to divert her attention elsewhere. There are always things that need to be done. Herbs that are at risk of going bad, rotting in her stores, things that needed to be collected, inventory to take stock of. She tends to them now, snow tipped paws hovering over leaves and roots, counting silently in her head.

She looks up only when a familiar voice is calling out her name, startling a tiny bit. She hadn't expected any visitors. Her eyes rest on the curly furred she cat. She considered Tornadopaw a friend, though she found she didn't have much time to spend as she used to. It makes her feel a bit guilty, but she wrestles that feeling down, buries it deep inside. "O-of course" she says, shaking off her surprise and beckoning with her tail for the apprentice to come in. "Everyone is out on a- on their pa-patrols right now" by everyone she mostly means Granitepaw "What-what's up?" she asks, turning her full attention to the smoky furred she-cat

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[Tornadopaw]

If you don't like me, that's your problem

Limping forward she used her shoulder to brace against the den wall briefly prior to steadying herself long enough to take a seat. "What-what's up?" That was such a loaded question. Tornadopaw nearly responds with something akin to what isn't? But holds her tongue as her attention merely falls to dark paws thoughtfully. "I-I don't know how you do it..." She begins with a heavy shrug of her shoulders, feature contorting into a strange mixture of melancholy and self-anger. "You've lost so much more than I and yet you still push on. You smile, you do what's required of you." Her gaze flickers up, yellow eyes focusing on pools of green for a moment. "I lost my mom and I can't seem to...function. I feel like I'm falling apart." Like she was stumbling through a darkness she could not pull herself out of.

Shame joins the storm of emotions as she voices a confession that sounds even more pitiful when said aloud. No longer able to hold the medic's gaze she looks elsewhere. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's not your problem." Tornadopaw whispers, shaking her head as a sorrowful chuckle spills forth. Sniffing, her gaze falls back to her paws. "I wanted to ask, if you had anything in here that could take my mind off of it?" Because she doubted the molly had anything that could mend a broken heart. ​

When I let it bother me, that's my problem​

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