- Jun 7, 2022
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GUTTA CAVAT LAPIDEM : they were pregnant. frost bites at the edges of his pawpads, toes tinged an ashy silver - pink taunting him with each slow step. they were pregnant and the cold, long days of leafbare inched ever closer, clinging to the trees in droplets of frozen dew. as he strolls slow amidst the winding reeds, willows curtaining the well - worn trail out of camp, he worries — the golden dapples of dying skylight fills the pit in his chest with a quiet dread, clawing anxious at its ivory - ribbed cage. for his clan, but most importantly for her ; the smoke who follows him now from their well - weaved camp barriers and into the forest. an escape route. they leave not too long after willowroot’s mate and he takes an opposite direction, sticking close to her side as they depart. he’s tall, and if anything, a good shield from prying eyes of wandering clanmates drawn by the outburst.
the molly had left in such a fit . . his paws tap nervously despite his attempts to hide it, papping against the cool stone. he looks away, “ so . . “ he’s acting weird. he can feel it, the look he’s surely being given — he taps his paws a little harder, an off - rhythm beat in his nervousness. he takes a breath, puffs out his cheeks . . and releases it slowly, ears angling, “ are you . . “ safe? does she do that often? an unnecessary anger, and so publicly? the man had never been good at emotion, not verbally — never much practice, an absent family half - hidden away within his memory known only a few short moons before total isolation. his kithood had been spent in a neglected silence and it shows in his stiff demeanor, claws outstretched and tink tink tink - ing against the pebbles underfoot.
“ i want you to know i’m here if you should need — ah, anything. “ that’s vague. too vague? another deep breath, “ this is a tough situation and, um. not a journey you should take alone. “ his voice, as it trails to an end, is bitter. alone. they were left alone amidst that crowd. the word is spit from his maw like poison fermented, lip wrinkling and — oh, he is upset. upset that it is him leading the lead warrior along by the gentle, phantom - touch of his plumelike tail, walking beneath the days last dying breath. they are gilded in the golden light of dusk, and poppysplash should be in his place. it isn’t fair, but they would not be alone — not rid he had anything to do with it.
the molly had left in such a fit . . his paws tap nervously despite his attempts to hide it, papping against the cool stone. he looks away, “ so . . “ he’s acting weird. he can feel it, the look he’s surely being given — he taps his paws a little harder, an off - rhythm beat in his nervousness. he takes a breath, puffs out his cheeks . . and releases it slowly, ears angling, “ are you . . “ safe? does she do that often? an unnecessary anger, and so publicly? the man had never been good at emotion, not verbally — never much practice, an absent family half - hidden away within his memory known only a few short moons before total isolation. his kithood had been spent in a neglected silence and it shows in his stiff demeanor, claws outstretched and tink tink tink - ing against the pebbles underfoot.
“ i want you to know i’m here if you should need — ah, anything. “ that’s vague. too vague? another deep breath, “ this is a tough situation and, um. not a journey you should take alone. “ his voice, as it trails to an end, is bitter. alone. they were left alone amidst that crowd. the word is spit from his maw like poison fermented, lip wrinkling and — oh, he is upset. upset that it is him leading the lead warrior along by the gentle, phantom - touch of his plumelike tail, walking beneath the days last dying breath. they are gilded in the golden light of dusk, and poppysplash should be in his place. it isn’t fair, but they would not be alone — not rid he had anything to do with it.
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@willowroot he’s trying his BEST
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− CICADASTAR ; he / him. roughly thirty nine months old, riverclan leader
− handsome, lanky black smoke tortie chimera with curly fur and ice blue eyes
− gay. speaks with a german accent, ages on the seventh, penned by antlers
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- none.
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