- Nov 7, 2022
- 43
- 6
- 8
Aching oaken paws padded back and forth at the edge of camp, unsure of what to do. A dichotomy had formed within the feline, a bitter conflict between body and mind. The latter was made up - sure as to how the situation needed to be settled - but the former refused. At this moment (and the last few times he’d attempted this), Soil’s body had gone on strike. Muscles would seize up and sound would stop coming. The goal was always the same: push it off for a few days, see if anything changes.
But it never did.
The shivering hadn’t stopped. The exhaustion hadn’t stopped. The hunger hadn’t stopped. Soil was being eaten away at inside, but uprooting the maggots meant foregoing his freedom. If he did this, then the former loner would be subject to some other creature’s whims, unable to make his own choices. But if he didn’t, the old man could meet his end the next time a blizzard came through, or really any bad weather.
A graying face broke into a small huff of cynical laughter before the old man forced himself forwards. “What’s worse?” He thought to himself, “being told what, where, and when I can eat, or going hungry all together?” The elder was embarrassed he couldn’t come up with a straight answer.
Emerald eyes turned towards his namesake as Soil drew nearer to the center of camp. Joints begged for relief in the cold, but the stubborn tom wouldn’t allow himself to sit. Even now, pride was flaring up in protest. The cat cleared his throat, eyes angling up to look at the home he’d been taken in to. He’d be back, but it would never quite be the same, would it? No more late night chats, less hunting, less training, less talking. Once again, protest formed within. Should he do this? Fireflypaw’s words were repeated, the same way they had been for days to quell the conflict. "Sometimes.. We need help, and that's nothin' to be ashamed of, Gramps."
Soil found his voice as a tired smile crossed his features. “Uh, could I have y’all’s attention, please? There’s something I gotta say. I know I ramble, but I’ll try an’ keep it to a minimum.” An expectant pause followed as more and more eyes turned their attention towards him. And for the first time in his life, the talkative tom didn’t really know how to continue. Letting out a sigh, the moggy met their gazes with a hint of guilt. “I’m…old. I know that’s nothin’ new, but…this leafbare, this blizzard, it’s shown me that I may be gettin’ too old. I’ve been through weather like this when I was a youngin’ an’ was just fine, but I guess I ain’t a youngin’ anymore. Something like this happens again and I might end up takin’ a dirt nap, y’know?” It felt strange to be talking about death so casually, speaking silent fears into existence like he would the weather. “I love this place. the nests are warm and the food is good, but it’s…it’s not enough anymore. I hate sayin’ that because y’all work so hard, but I hope you understand I’m not tryin’ to demean you. My body’s like a spoiled kit now, y’know? It screams and cries if everything’s not perfect, and nothing is perfect out here, but that imperfection is why I love this life. The challenge, the satisfaction, the-“
The elder paused, realizing with a laugh that he’d broken his promise. “Sorry. I said I wouldn’t ramble, didn’t I?” another patch of silence followed as Soil tried to make his next words more succinct, with some success. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that system y’all got here, and I think it might be the solution. I’m gonna be a daylight warrior.” those last two words alone left a bad taste in the moggy’s mouth, so he still had to get used to it. “Like I said, I love this place. I want to hunt and train and talk with y’all, but I also need to pace myself, much as it annoys me to say, so I thought this would be a good compromise.”
Soil took a deep breath, glad that he’d made his decision but nervous about what the reaction would be. While he waited for what would be said or done, the old man would finally take a seat.
But it never did.
The shivering hadn’t stopped. The exhaustion hadn’t stopped. The hunger hadn’t stopped. Soil was being eaten away at inside, but uprooting the maggots meant foregoing his freedom. If he did this, then the former loner would be subject to some other creature’s whims, unable to make his own choices. But if he didn’t, the old man could meet his end the next time a blizzard came through, or really any bad weather.
A graying face broke into a small huff of cynical laughter before the old man forced himself forwards. “What’s worse?” He thought to himself, “being told what, where, and when I can eat, or going hungry all together?” The elder was embarrassed he couldn’t come up with a straight answer.
Emerald eyes turned towards his namesake as Soil drew nearer to the center of camp. Joints begged for relief in the cold, but the stubborn tom wouldn’t allow himself to sit. Even now, pride was flaring up in protest. The cat cleared his throat, eyes angling up to look at the home he’d been taken in to. He’d be back, but it would never quite be the same, would it? No more late night chats, less hunting, less training, less talking. Once again, protest formed within. Should he do this? Fireflypaw’s words were repeated, the same way they had been for days to quell the conflict. "Sometimes.. We need help, and that's nothin' to be ashamed of, Gramps."
Soil found his voice as a tired smile crossed his features. “Uh, could I have y’all’s attention, please? There’s something I gotta say. I know I ramble, but I’ll try an’ keep it to a minimum.” An expectant pause followed as more and more eyes turned their attention towards him. And for the first time in his life, the talkative tom didn’t really know how to continue. Letting out a sigh, the moggy met their gazes with a hint of guilt. “I’m…old. I know that’s nothin’ new, but…this leafbare, this blizzard, it’s shown me that I may be gettin’ too old. I’ve been through weather like this when I was a youngin’ an’ was just fine, but I guess I ain’t a youngin’ anymore. Something like this happens again and I might end up takin’ a dirt nap, y’know?” It felt strange to be talking about death so casually, speaking silent fears into existence like he would the weather. “I love this place. the nests are warm and the food is good, but it’s…it’s not enough anymore. I hate sayin’ that because y’all work so hard, but I hope you understand I’m not tryin’ to demean you. My body’s like a spoiled kit now, y’know? It screams and cries if everything’s not perfect, and nothing is perfect out here, but that imperfection is why I love this life. The challenge, the satisfaction, the-“
The elder paused, realizing with a laugh that he’d broken his promise. “Sorry. I said I wouldn’t ramble, didn’t I?” another patch of silence followed as Soil tried to make his next words more succinct, with some success. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that system y’all got here, and I think it might be the solution. I’m gonna be a daylight warrior.” those last two words alone left a bad taste in the moggy’s mouth, so he still had to get used to it. “Like I said, I love this place. I want to hunt and train and talk with y’all, but I also need to pace myself, much as it annoys me to say, so I thought this would be a good compromise.”
Soil took a deep breath, glad that he’d made his decision but nervous about what the reaction would be. While he waited for what would be said or done, the old man would finally take a seat.
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