back and forth | outlook rock

[Lilacstem]

It had been a while since Lilacstem had been this far out in the territory. The rogues had seen to that by driving WindClan from their home. Now they were home, the rogues were gone, and Lilacstem could walk their lands she had called home for seasons again. The calico would break away from her patrol to wander closer to the boulder, putting her paws on the stony surface and debating jumping up and looking around. "I don't think they came here much," She mewed, taking a sniff of the air. The stench of the rogues was faint here, so they either had not come here often or not at all. "I'm glad they are gone now, I was beginning to forget what the smell of home was like," Lilacstem chuckled.​

 

[Larkfeather !]

Even before they had been chased out of their moorland home, Larkfeather had always stuck close to her kin’s side, their flanks bringing her a sense of security since she was nothing but a scrap of fur toddling from the nursery.
When her aunt wanders off from the patrols route, Larkfeather finds herself trailing after her, head tilting curiously.
The looming shadow of outlook rock used to intimidate her as an apprentice, and as her neck cranes to look at the very top, Larkfeather finds it still does. Just a little.
Lilacstem speaks of home, and anxiety is sent sparking under her paw pads. The days had been stretching long, and Larkfeather had woken each sunrise to find herself feeling less and less comforted with calling Windclan her home.
She had been born here, yes, but with the brand of “traitor” as though it was her birthright. Sparkspirit had saw it long before her, and nearly broke his back proving them wrong.
Larkfeather didn’t want to go through all that, she didn’t want to fight for her comfort.
”How do you think this thing got here?” Is all the pastel warrior muses, reaching up a forepaw to feel the rough stones exterior herself. Her tone is far-away, her eyes still looking upward.

”Speech.”

[ YOUR SILVER LINING ]​

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