- Jan 5, 2023
- 228
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Only a day ago, a war had shattered the peace of WindClan's camp. It was not from SkyClan's claws, though, nor RiverClan's either. For so long, WindClan had uttered about enemies from the outside, but rarely had they whispered about the demons lurking within their own borders. Sootstar's exile and imprisonment of Dandelionwish had stirred the wasp nest, in a way. It had caused so much vile poison to bubble to the surface, had driven so many snakes from their holes. Who could have guessed that WindClan had been harboring so many serpents? Hidden in plain sight... lurking beneath the fur of cats he had once called his clan-mates.
Oh, Tigerfrost is bitter. He is bitter because he should have expected it. He is bitter because he had not realized just how deep the treachery had spread into WindClan's heart. He is bitter because, despite it all, the head of the adder himself had managed to escape. Dandelionwish was gone, unpunished, a traitor exposed by the stars themselves. Some might be relieved that many of WindClan's disloyal former members were now gone, but Tigerfrost can't help but wish that every last one of them had been slaughtered for their crimes. They had put innocent lives in danger, kits, even the unborn. They had brought chaos into WindClan, and now that wound would fester for moons to come. How could any true WindClanner sleep peacefully, thinking that some viper could kill them as they slumber, vulnerable and unaware?
Worse still, Tigerfrost is among the many wounded from that battle. If there was a second assault, if those traitors returned... many of WindClan's finest would be too injured to put up a decent fight. Himself included. The lacerations on his haunches are deep, and his swollen paw made it difficult to balance. Tigerfrost wasn't used to roaming around on three legs, and his clumsiness was evident. Now he couldn't hunt, couldn't patrol, couldn't make sure those traitorous rats were gone for good. No, he was trapped here for the next several weeks, a prisoner of his own home. He supposed that this was the price of being a Warrior. He had done his job as expected. He had fought to defend his home and his leader. He had bled for it.
So... perhaps amidst all of the bitter feelings, he was also proud. Not only had the traitors been exposed to the stars, but the loyalists as well. Those who had refused to cower or back down. Those who had done their duty, had stepped up to defend their home, and their leader. Trust has formed where it had been absent before, and perhaps it would strengthen into a powerful unity that WindClan has not seen in moons. Tigerfrost can only hope. He has a right to be grumpy, everyone does, but time would heal their wounds, both physical and spiritual. It always did, eventually. With a sigh, Tigerfrost limps out of the medicine cat's den, finally gulping in a fresh breath of cold air. There was frost in the clearing, but at least the smell of blood was finally gone.
@SOOTCHASER
Oh, Tigerfrost is bitter. He is bitter because he should have expected it. He is bitter because he had not realized just how deep the treachery had spread into WindClan's heart. He is bitter because, despite it all, the head of the adder himself had managed to escape. Dandelionwish was gone, unpunished, a traitor exposed by the stars themselves. Some might be relieved that many of WindClan's disloyal former members were now gone, but Tigerfrost can't help but wish that every last one of them had been slaughtered for their crimes. They had put innocent lives in danger, kits, even the unborn. They had brought chaos into WindClan, and now that wound would fester for moons to come. How could any true WindClanner sleep peacefully, thinking that some viper could kill them as they slumber, vulnerable and unaware?
Worse still, Tigerfrost is among the many wounded from that battle. If there was a second assault, if those traitors returned... many of WindClan's finest would be too injured to put up a decent fight. Himself included. The lacerations on his haunches are deep, and his swollen paw made it difficult to balance. Tigerfrost wasn't used to roaming around on three legs, and his clumsiness was evident. Now he couldn't hunt, couldn't patrol, couldn't make sure those traitorous rats were gone for good. No, he was trapped here for the next several weeks, a prisoner of his own home. He supposed that this was the price of being a Warrior. He had done his job as expected. He had fought to defend his home and his leader. He had bled for it.
So... perhaps amidst all of the bitter feelings, he was also proud. Not only had the traitors been exposed to the stars, but the loyalists as well. Those who had refused to cower or back down. Those who had done their duty, had stepped up to defend their home, and their leader. Trust has formed where it had been absent before, and perhaps it would strengthen into a powerful unity that WindClan has not seen in moons. Tigerfrost can only hope. He has a right to be grumpy, everyone does, but time would heal their wounds, both physical and spiritual. It always did, eventually. With a sigh, Tigerfrost limps out of the medicine cat's den, finally gulping in a fresh breath of cold air. There was frost in the clearing, but at least the smell of blood was finally gone.
@SOOTCHASER