( ☾ ) ribbons of shadow dance across the darkened path ahead, illuminating for a moment the shape of the feline as she strides softly along the trail. darkness embodies her, wrapping around her like a comfort blanket, though perhaps it is exactly that, for the night is the only time for quiet in her life. her face is solemn, eyes fixed ahead on the point she knows she'll have to cross.
she has been sad for too much of her life, this woman of smoke and steel. she has to be strong- it's her job to strong, to be someone who never breaks, the one her family, her friends, can trust. she thinks she used to be that, used to call orders and command dignity with the flick of her tail. but then again, perhaps she never was strong, for her heart is broken into too many pieces, trying to juggle emotions of everyone else as well as herself. too much loss, too many nights of crying. her heart will never be whole again, when so many pieces have disappeared.
the night is stormy as she travels across her domain, the kingdom she's always looked over with the protection of moons of knighthood. its fate is intertwined with her soul, any number of creatures to care for, any number of hearts she might break. the sky is starless, no frosty light glinting from above. instead rumbling clouds of smoke and flint roll above, choking out the moon, smothering the stars. perhaps it is fate that tonight of all nights is a night for rain, for it could show that the heavens are crying with her. water will soon fall from the sky, and she take it as her sign, though it's more likely a fact of nature, an unstoppable force propelling the days onward. her paws trace the trail, secret and hidden among bracken and reeds, brambles sharp like claws, like teeth, prepared to sting, to snarl into anyone who dares venture forth. creeping through tall grasses, she finds an arch of glistening green, boughs that make up her name stretching towards the blanketed sky, a tunnel scattered with memories of the past. her paws fit gently into the dents of paws that have come before, a paired set, belonging together. she stumbles for a moment at the sight of it all, for it's overwhelming, and grief surges like a river's mighty wave inside of her.
i know that i fucked up when i
told you i'm afraid of heights
it made you wanna test my courage
you made me climb a cliff at night
you wanted me to jump and i declined
you called me a coward, i replied
i don't wanna live forever, but i don't wanna die tonight
she comes here to let go, and she hasn't been here since her most recent litter's birth. it hadn't felt right, when she'd been trying to move on for the sake of her growing family. she'd thought moving on meant supporting the remainders of her heart, but now there are fewer, and fewer still cats who know the truth of the woman she will never stop grieving.
when the black water ate you up
like a sugar cube in a teacup
i got the point you were makin'
when i held my breath 'til you came up
the base of the willow tree is split, a cavernous space within that is lined with dusty shells, shriveled moss, trinkets lost to time. she remembers claws scraping against tree bark, laughter ringing across the clearing, hot breath on her heels, a soft scramble up the tree. laying in branches, faces tilted towards the evening sun, a soaring feeling of complete and utter contentedness. love, as it is, familial and sisterly, a deep, pure connection of kinship. golden- their lives had been golden, sunrises and shimmering rivers, leaves in the autumn, soaring birds in a deep blue sky, crowns and kingdoms and queens.
their connection had been conditional, the midnight blue of dark water, of a drowning body and bright moonlit eyes watching from shore, the shouts from daring to give up, the loneliness of sleeping in a nest out in the elements. buckgait had not been perfect by any means, but she had been there, and she had been bright in the moments that mattered. conditional or not, the conditions were easy to meet. sun always came after a storm.
there's been a run of fires downtown
on half-built construction sites
i know you never liked a townhouse
i've seen you climb a crane at night
if they ever catch you at it
i know you'd want me to be proof
that you took a rich man's dream
and brought it with you on your way down
joining riverclan had been the catalyst to the shattering of willowroot's heart, and she knows it even as she calls herself a proud warrior of the clan. buckgait had never forgiven her for accepting the take over of their home, even when deputyship was in the earthen woman's grasp, even when her smoke sister clung to the title of lead warrior. bitterness ate away at the woman's soul from the day she joined willowroot in the island camp. the bitterness was as midnight hued as drowning, the anger she felt at cicadastar, the grief she felt at the clan she was second in command to lead.
'cause one man's dream is another man's death
i remember when you told me that
didn't know what to say so I just laughed
but now I know it's not funny
buckgait could've killed cicadastar any number of times, and perhaps she thought about it more than once. ending the king's reign could've beckoned a brighter day for the original river dwellers. as willowroot rifles through old belongings in the crumbling willow den, water splashes at her feet. she looks down, expecting cold clean rain from the sky above. her heart lowers as she sees the water soak the earth, feels the rest of the tears track their way down her face. the sky isn't crying with her, no rain rumbles from broken clouds, instead they have parted, moonlight shining through. for a brief moment, anger flashes through her, anger that her gods have decided that her sister isn't worth mourning, fear that they have forgotten her pain. the tree looms in front of her, and suddenly she feels as if she is suffocating, as if air isn't reaching her lungs.
i never rode a motorcycle
i never smoked a cigarette
i wanna live a vibrant life
but I wanna die a boring death
i know I was a disappointment
know you wanted me to take a risk
not everybody gets the chance to live
a life that isn't dangerous
she acts in quick movements, claws sinking into the bark, muscles straining as she pulls herself up. a wind washes through the branches below as she climbs, aiming for a branch as high as she can reach. she isn't a climber, but some anger and grief fuels her. her paws find solace finally at a rough barked branch, wide and welcoming as she shuffles slowly across it. her face is to the west, fur ruffling in the breeze as she sits, and the moonlight beams down. as it crosses her path, rippling over clawed up bark and colorful leaves. how dare the stars not crash down each time she thinks of her sister? how dare they steal every bit of kin and friendship, every memory of buckgait that might be thought of kindly? she's grieved her sister every day since the day she'd been stolen, and as she thinks of tiny wriggling bodies, of little curled ears and the softness of a nursery neither buckgait or brookstorm got to appreciate, she sobs.
you called me a crybaby
but you're the one who got teary
telling me what you believe
how we're stuck in entropy
how it hurts to hope
oh, it hurts to hope for more
oh, it hurts to hope the future
will be better than before
who lives are the legacies of the strong women who left them. as willowroot steels herself against the stormy sky, she gazes off across the forest she calls her home. familiar periwinkle eyes do not gaze back, but the comfort of their former den and the knowledge that something remains will help dry her tears. she once thought her purpose was to be buckgait's sister, to serve her until the day they both went down in bloody glory. moons later, she finds her aim is grander than all that. she doesn't want to die in glory anymore, doesn't believe fighting one's way through is the right thing to do. buckgait might not recognize her if she saw her now, but she knows the woman would be proud. she will be the future her sister and her sister's family do not get to reach.
she has been sad for too much of her life, this woman of smoke and steel. she has to be strong- it's her job to strong, to be someone who never breaks, the one her family, her friends, can trust. she thinks she used to be that, used to call orders and command dignity with the flick of her tail. but then again, perhaps she never was strong, for her heart is broken into too many pieces, trying to juggle emotions of everyone else as well as herself. too much loss, too many nights of crying. her heart will never be whole again, when so many pieces have disappeared.
the night is stormy as she travels across her domain, the kingdom she's always looked over with the protection of moons of knighthood. its fate is intertwined with her soul, any number of creatures to care for, any number of hearts she might break. the sky is starless, no frosty light glinting from above. instead rumbling clouds of smoke and flint roll above, choking out the moon, smothering the stars. perhaps it is fate that tonight of all nights is a night for rain, for it could show that the heavens are crying with her. water will soon fall from the sky, and she take it as her sign, though it's more likely a fact of nature, an unstoppable force propelling the days onward. her paws trace the trail, secret and hidden among bracken and reeds, brambles sharp like claws, like teeth, prepared to sting, to snarl into anyone who dares venture forth. creeping through tall grasses, she finds an arch of glistening green, boughs that make up her name stretching towards the blanketed sky, a tunnel scattered with memories of the past. her paws fit gently into the dents of paws that have come before, a paired set, belonging together. she stumbles for a moment at the sight of it all, for it's overwhelming, and grief surges like a river's mighty wave inside of her.
i know that i fucked up when i
told you i'm afraid of heights
it made you wanna test my courage
you made me climb a cliff at night
you wanted me to jump and i declined
you called me a coward, i replied
i don't wanna live forever, but i don't wanna die tonight
she comes here to let go, and she hasn't been here since her most recent litter's birth. it hadn't felt right, when she'd been trying to move on for the sake of her growing family. she'd thought moving on meant supporting the remainders of her heart, but now there are fewer, and fewer still cats who know the truth of the woman she will never stop grieving.
when the black water ate you up
like a sugar cube in a teacup
i got the point you were makin'
when i held my breath 'til you came up
the base of the willow tree is split, a cavernous space within that is lined with dusty shells, shriveled moss, trinkets lost to time. she remembers claws scraping against tree bark, laughter ringing across the clearing, hot breath on her heels, a soft scramble up the tree. laying in branches, faces tilted towards the evening sun, a soaring feeling of complete and utter contentedness. love, as it is, familial and sisterly, a deep, pure connection of kinship. golden- their lives had been golden, sunrises and shimmering rivers, leaves in the autumn, soaring birds in a deep blue sky, crowns and kingdoms and queens.
their connection had been conditional, the midnight blue of dark water, of a drowning body and bright moonlit eyes watching from shore, the shouts from daring to give up, the loneliness of sleeping in a nest out in the elements. buckgait had not been perfect by any means, but she had been there, and she had been bright in the moments that mattered. conditional or not, the conditions were easy to meet. sun always came after a storm.
there's been a run of fires downtown
on half-built construction sites
i know you never liked a townhouse
i've seen you climb a crane at night
if they ever catch you at it
i know you'd want me to be proof
that you took a rich man's dream
and brought it with you on your way down
joining riverclan had been the catalyst to the shattering of willowroot's heart, and she knows it even as she calls herself a proud warrior of the clan. buckgait had never forgiven her for accepting the take over of their home, even when deputyship was in the earthen woman's grasp, even when her smoke sister clung to the title of lead warrior. bitterness ate away at the woman's soul from the day she joined willowroot in the island camp. the bitterness was as midnight hued as drowning, the anger she felt at cicadastar, the grief she felt at the clan she was second in command to lead.
'cause one man's dream is another man's death
i remember when you told me that
didn't know what to say so I just laughed
but now I know it's not funny
buckgait could've killed cicadastar any number of times, and perhaps she thought about it more than once. ending the king's reign could've beckoned a brighter day for the original river dwellers. as willowroot rifles through old belongings in the crumbling willow den, water splashes at her feet. she looks down, expecting cold clean rain from the sky above. her heart lowers as she sees the water soak the earth, feels the rest of the tears track their way down her face. the sky isn't crying with her, no rain rumbles from broken clouds, instead they have parted, moonlight shining through. for a brief moment, anger flashes through her, anger that her gods have decided that her sister isn't worth mourning, fear that they have forgotten her pain. the tree looms in front of her, and suddenly she feels as if she is suffocating, as if air isn't reaching her lungs.
i never rode a motorcycle
i never smoked a cigarette
i wanna live a vibrant life
but I wanna die a boring death
i know I was a disappointment
know you wanted me to take a risk
not everybody gets the chance to live
a life that isn't dangerous
she acts in quick movements, claws sinking into the bark, muscles straining as she pulls herself up. a wind washes through the branches below as she climbs, aiming for a branch as high as she can reach. she isn't a climber, but some anger and grief fuels her. her paws find solace finally at a rough barked branch, wide and welcoming as she shuffles slowly across it. her face is to the west, fur ruffling in the breeze as she sits, and the moonlight beams down. as it crosses her path, rippling over clawed up bark and colorful leaves. how dare the stars not crash down each time she thinks of her sister? how dare they steal every bit of kin and friendship, every memory of buckgait that might be thought of kindly? she's grieved her sister every day since the day she'd been stolen, and as she thinks of tiny wriggling bodies, of little curled ears and the softness of a nursery neither buckgait or brookstorm got to appreciate, she sobs.
you called me a crybaby
but you're the one who got teary
telling me what you believe
how we're stuck in entropy
how it hurts to hope
oh, it hurts to hope for more
oh, it hurts to hope the future
will be better than before
who lives are the legacies of the strong women who left them. as willowroot steels herself against the stormy sky, she gazes off across the forest she calls her home. familiar periwinkle eyes do not gaze back, but the comfort of their former den and the knowledge that something remains will help dry her tears. she once thought her purpose was to be buckgait's sister, to serve her until the day they both went down in bloody glory. moons later, she finds her aim is grander than all that. she doesn't want to die in glory anymore, doesn't believe fighting one's way through is the right thing to do. buckgait might not recognize her if she saw her now, but she knows the woman would be proud. she will be the future her sister and her sister's family do not get to reach.
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// credit to "afraid of heights" by boygenius for the lyrics (listen to it while you read if you dare xx) anyway happy 300 posts willow here's to more! "#91A26C"
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WILLOWROOT ☾ SHE / THEY, WARRIOR OF RIVERCLAN. MENTORING MIDNIGHTPAW. PENNED BY LAVS
a long-haired black smoke oriental with sage-green eyes. smoky long fur coats the length of willowroot's lithe body, cut through with dark ghost stripes. friendly sage green eyes that narrow in an almond shape, and her muzzle and limbs are thin and long due to her oriental heritage.
