- Jul 3, 2023
- 127
- 15
- 18
BRIARPAW — hello, my old heart.
As leaf-bare wanes, critters of various nature begins to re-emerge, rippling indistinct buzzing and rustles throughout the marshland, even under the comfortable cover of night.
Briarpaw had always thrived in the absence of the sun, her pitch-hued coat offering her an even bigger advantage than her silent paws.
Yet, there was no pleasure in the task she had forced herself to take. Her vow to Forestshade was set on replay as she slipped past swamp-land grass, brows furrowed. The apprentice had ignored Screechpaw’s antics for as long as she could, and now he was missing from their patrol. This is the last time, Briarpaw promises herself- she wouldn’t even scold him this time, only drag him back to the rest of the patrol by his scruff if she had to.
Led by a scent trail alone, when a dark paw parts tall grass to reveal the sight of her brother, she is left speechless with confusion.
He is standing there, head tipped sky-ward, eyes trailing something above their heads.
Cautiously, Briarpaw continues on, forgetting her earlier promise and baring her teeth in her brothers direction, hissing to catch his attention.
The moonlight that pooled on the ground flickers, and before Briarpaw can look up, something sky-born is ascending upon them, sharp talons crashing into her view- though, they don’t reach for her. Perhaps if it had been any other cat, Briarpaw would make the better judgment of simply yelling at them to move, let Mother Nature weed out the less bright. If not for the urgency of the situation, Briarpaw would be left in frozen shock to see Screechpaw brace himself, optics glazed with determination.
He had done this on purpose.
"Screechpaw!" Unlike the outburst that had escaped her the day she thought a monster had flattened both her littermates, when Briarpaw yells out, hardly registering the fact that she is moving forward, running towards the owls line of attack, it is a bark of white-hot rage, disbelief- heartbreak. She hadn’t taught him to be this stupid, Chilledstar hadn’t.
Before she truly realizes it, ebony paws are lunging forward, shoving her brother back with a rough force.
Standing in the place her brother had been only a heartbeat before, the blazing aggression that was smattered across her expression was suddenly fear.
Then, her perception is a violent blur of feathers, her former stance leaving the charging owl unprepared, and knocking both the both off-balance.
There’s a weight thrown against her flank, and in the short moment as she is thrown across the mud, a defiant forepaw flies upwards with thorny claws unsheathed, hooking weakly onto thin skin that was shielded with slick feathers, an angry screech splits in her eardrums. Talons that had intended to grasp upon unsuspecting shoulders had instead found a savage hold in the crook of her flank, dragging somewhere towards her tail in the fleeting chaos. What… what… what…
Something warm blossoms at the base of her ribcage, it snakes deceivingly around her stomach.
She can feel the predator's presence still hovering right above her, an owl determined to catch its meal.
Suddenly, Briarpaw can’t breathe. Suddenly, everything is slow, numb. A shaky breath comes out as a distorted groan, and Briarpaw finally forces her optics to find their way down to the fire that has begun to spark in her belly. Talons drip in what looks like the same black liquid that spills from her wounds, and in horror the apprentice watches as they bunch from only a whisker length above her, ready to sink in once more.
Briarpaw’s own legs try to protectively draw closer to her stomach, but they cannot against the weight of the split skin that leaves her facing sky-wards on the soil. The moonlight is blinding. Would it be worth it, to die this way?
Damnit. Of course it would. Even if it meant saving her littermate from his own stupidity.
Before the deathly talons can plunge into her once more and carry her into the unknown, Briarpaw rolls from under its shadow with an involuntary cry, saving herself from an untimely fate for only another moment, her forepaw finds the wound and presses against the top of her open wound as though she could hold it together long enough- just long enough to make sure Screechpaw was safe, that she wouldn’t die for nothing.
"speech"
As leaf-bare wanes, critters of various nature begins to re-emerge, rippling indistinct buzzing and rustles throughout the marshland, even under the comfortable cover of night.
Briarpaw had always thrived in the absence of the sun, her pitch-hued coat offering her an even bigger advantage than her silent paws.
Yet, there was no pleasure in the task she had forced herself to take. Her vow to Forestshade was set on replay as she slipped past swamp-land grass, brows furrowed. The apprentice had ignored Screechpaw’s antics for as long as she could, and now he was missing from their patrol. This is the last time, Briarpaw promises herself- she wouldn’t even scold him this time, only drag him back to the rest of the patrol by his scruff if she had to.
Led by a scent trail alone, when a dark paw parts tall grass to reveal the sight of her brother, she is left speechless with confusion.
He is standing there, head tipped sky-ward, eyes trailing something above their heads.
Cautiously, Briarpaw continues on, forgetting her earlier promise and baring her teeth in her brothers direction, hissing to catch his attention.
The moonlight that pooled on the ground flickers, and before Briarpaw can look up, something sky-born is ascending upon them, sharp talons crashing into her view- though, they don’t reach for her. Perhaps if it had been any other cat, Briarpaw would make the better judgment of simply yelling at them to move, let Mother Nature weed out the less bright. If not for the urgency of the situation, Briarpaw would be left in frozen shock to see Screechpaw brace himself, optics glazed with determination.
He had done this on purpose.
"Screechpaw!" Unlike the outburst that had escaped her the day she thought a monster had flattened both her littermates, when Briarpaw yells out, hardly registering the fact that she is moving forward, running towards the owls line of attack, it is a bark of white-hot rage, disbelief- heartbreak. She hadn’t taught him to be this stupid, Chilledstar hadn’t.
Before she truly realizes it, ebony paws are lunging forward, shoving her brother back with a rough force.
Standing in the place her brother had been only a heartbeat before, the blazing aggression that was smattered across her expression was suddenly fear.
Then, her perception is a violent blur of feathers, her former stance leaving the charging owl unprepared, and knocking both the both off-balance.
There’s a weight thrown against her flank, and in the short moment as she is thrown across the mud, a defiant forepaw flies upwards with thorny claws unsheathed, hooking weakly onto thin skin that was shielded with slick feathers, an angry screech splits in her eardrums. Talons that had intended to grasp upon unsuspecting shoulders had instead found a savage hold in the crook of her flank, dragging somewhere towards her tail in the fleeting chaos. What… what… what…
Something warm blossoms at the base of her ribcage, it snakes deceivingly around her stomach.
She can feel the predator's presence still hovering right above her, an owl determined to catch its meal.
Suddenly, Briarpaw can’t breathe. Suddenly, everything is slow, numb. A shaky breath comes out as a distorted groan, and Briarpaw finally forces her optics to find their way down to the fire that has begun to spark in her belly. Talons drip in what looks like the same black liquid that spills from her wounds, and in horror the apprentice watches as they bunch from only a whisker length above her, ready to sink in once more.
Briarpaw’s own legs try to protectively draw closer to her stomach, but they cannot against the weight of the split skin that leaves her facing sky-wards on the soil. The moonlight is blinding. Would it be worth it, to die this way?
Damnit. Of course it would. Even if it meant saving her littermate from his own stupidity.
Before the deathly talons can plunge into her once more and carry her into the unknown, Briarpaw rolls from under its shadow with an involuntary cry, saving herself from an untimely fate for only another moment, her forepaw finds the wound and presses against the top of her open wound as though she could hold it together long enough- just long enough to make sure Screechpaw was safe, that she wouldn’t die for nothing.
"speech"
- PAFP: @SCREECHPAW
