- Jun 21, 2022
- 215
- 73
- 28
a white-hot sun blazes in a cloudless sky, radiating a heat so intense beesong is surprised that a wildfire has not sparked yet. nevertheless, the world still feels the sweltering temperatures. dead grass crackles underfoot, the healer's dried tongue lolling in sharp pants as he treads through the dying territory. sweat streaks his cinnamon-ticked fur, sticky and uncomfortable. worst of all is the burning in the right side of his front half, the sensation forcing him to relive that night in the ruins of his twoleg's home. this scorching sun, he needs to get away from. he couldn't stand the blistering beneath his skin.
the flora, too, couldn't withstand the heat.
flowers wither away before beesong's very eye, shriveled petals collapsing to the ground below. the willow trees have dropped their browning leaves. rotting wood peels away from them, decayed and brittle. there would be nothing left, if this heat continued. beesong bites the inside of their cheek and curses under their breath. the land would be barren, and riverclan would be fucked.
as if on cue, the sunlight fades. a gloom settles over the earth, drenching everything in partial darkness. respite from the heat comes with it, chased away by the coolness of the shadows. but before beesong could allow himself a sigh of relief, his breath hitches in his throat. while his eyesight adjusts, the once-dead vegetation has begun to bloom around him. withered flowers unfurling to reveal beautiful colors muted only by the shadows. dead grass growing lush beneath his paws. decomposing willows sprouting rich green leaves.
everything is alive, and healthier than ever before, because of this sudden gloom.
...
beesong startles awake in their nest, left eye blown wide.
the flora, too, couldn't withstand the heat.
flowers wither away before beesong's very eye, shriveled petals collapsing to the ground below. the willow trees have dropped their browning leaves. rotting wood peels away from them, decayed and brittle. there would be nothing left, if this heat continued. beesong bites the inside of their cheek and curses under their breath. the land would be barren, and riverclan would be fucked.
as if on cue, the sunlight fades. a gloom settles over the earth, drenching everything in partial darkness. respite from the heat comes with it, chased away by the coolness of the shadows. but before beesong could allow himself a sigh of relief, his breath hitches in his throat. while his eyesight adjusts, the once-dead vegetation has begun to bloom around him. withered flowers unfurling to reveal beautiful colors muted only by the shadows. dead grass growing lush beneath his paws. decomposing willows sprouting rich green leaves.
everything is alive, and healthier than ever before, because of this sudden gloom.
...
beesong startles awake in their nest, left eye blown wide.
