black swan — birdwatching

[WHITELION]

make peace with your broken pieces .​

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

It was a quiet day, waking up in the early morning, curled around Spiderlily after a rough night of nightmares, pulling at Whitelion’s heart to see his friend like this, unable to help but offer quiet comfort. It was never the same. Some days, Spiderlily could barely handle touch, jerking back until he fell out of their shared nest ( something Whitelion would have never thought to have been possible ). While other days the chimera would muffle his cries, burrowing himself into Whitelion’s warm embrace, offering silent comfort.

Today was a blessing, pulling away from Spiderlily to face the new day, optic crinkling at the morning light until he set off for the day, not before whispering a soft goodbye to the sleeping tom, knowing the other deserved it after such a fitful sleep.

Whitelion blinked, pulling himself out of his musings to peer at the branches, tattered ears swerving to catch wind of the chirp of baby birds ready to take flight. He turned, shushing them, optic crinkling as he gestured towards a singular branch, observing. “A reminder that even though we hunt them, one must appreciate the life and beauty in nature has given us.” He hummed, voice quiet, barely audible against the whispers of nature. “We must not be greedy, only taking and never giving back.” He hummed, voice inaudible, except for those so close to him they could hear the exhale he let out, straightening up.

As the white-furred brute watched, catching sight of three birds, preparing to leave the nest. “You see there?” He whispered, golden optic crinkling. “Although we cannot understand each other. We can see that even they must take the first step, just as our kits take their first flight as apprentices. Moments so precious are gone in a blink of an eye.” Time is only our enemy if we make it. Cherish those moments you might think are useless, but learn to regret.

Today was a quiet day indeed. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Chicky]

Chickadeepaw peers up at the baby birds, watching as they take off, one by one, from their perch. They flap their wings wildly each time, hovering a few inches in the air before they jump-flap to an adjacent branch. They look uncoordinated and unremarkable. The fluffy little apprentice can't imagine how Whitelion got all of that little speech just from watching these birds in particular.

"But we still gotta hunt the birds for the clan, right, Whitelion?" The apprentice shoots back at him, utterly confused by the musing. Birds were given by StarClan to be eaten, simple as that!​

 

[nightbird]

much like chickadeepaw, whitelion's frilled speech about the circle of life and whatnot is lost on the lead warrior. the older warrior was eloquent, she'd give him that. however, he seemed to pick things apart into messages, lessons. it reminded her of redwind, how the splotched molly spun a the sighting of a deer and her young into some message about kits. perhaps nightbird would have recommended the two whimsical warriors catch a date if she had not witnessed whitelion's closeness to spiderlily in the warriors den.

she doesn't intrude on whatever teaching moment was happening, however. the apprentice's question is left in the air until her mentor would choose to respond. instead, she remained huddled nearby, waiting to hear what story he would be able to spin chickadeepaw's question into.​

 

[sloestride]

THIS WEIGHT ON MY NECK MAKES IT HARD TO CONNECT​

The morning was comfortable, soft in the way his old pillow-nests had been in the twolegplace. Sloestride let the slivers of light roll over him as the patrol made their way through the trees, the warmth tempting his lids to blink open wider with each step. A shush from Whitelion tangled his limbs a little and reflexively the tom sought out the disturbance.

Coming alongside Nightbird and dunking his head in a polite nod, he watched the ivory warrior dole out instruction to his apprentice. As hard as his time as an apprentice had been sometimes, reminders of it made his chest grow tight with fondness. Whitelion's lesson structure was a new one though.

Following Chickadeepaw's reasonable question, he couldn't help but add, "And er, how do you suppose we give back?" Sloestride's words were pinched with clumsy confusion. If the answer was just to avoid killing the little ones well- does not doing something count as a gift? His eyes grew slant in somewhat exaggerated thought, the tom avoiding the snort that threatened to leave his maw. Should they apply that sentiment to the other clans, thanking them for not crossing their borders every morning? Didn't think their leader would go for that. It was an uncharitable extension of the lesson, however, so Sloestride said nothing.​

 

[WHITELION]

make peace with your broken pieces .​

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶​

He paused, turning to stare at his apprentice with an inquisitive expression, golden optic crinkling. “Of course!” He veered his attention back, watching with a subtle quirk of his bottom lip. “One must not simply stop hunting them.” He nodded. “We hunt, but one must not forget the life we had taken, even if that has been long forgotten. Life is precious, no matter if it is the prey we hunt or the newborns we bring to life.” He mused. “Merely a matter of the mind.” He supplied, helm tilted to peer at the young apprentice.

“It is the way we offer sweet death when they meet our claws.” He hummed. “They no longer suffer, instead giving us life to carry on for generations to come.” He paused, helm tilted to peer at Sloestride.

“We already do.” He called with a crinkled optic, turning to Chickadeepaw with a gentle nudge. “Perhaps you’ll catch something?” He offered, jerking his nose towards the birds, unaware of their presence, but he figured it wouldn’t be long until they realized.

He didn’t elaborate on what they were doing, figuring it would at least get them to think, whether that was helping the strongest trait prevail for generations as long as they bore offspring or the simple way they repurposed their bones. His mind drifted to Spiderlily’s obsessive nature with animal skulls with a touch of fondness. Life is filled with twists and turns of unpredictable measures. He thought with a swish of his tail, prowling deeper in hunt of prey. ​

​

thought speech​

 

[Chicky]

Truthfully, this was a lot of information for the fluffy apprentice. Her good ear twitched as Whitelion rattled on, a warrior's wise words not even gracing Chickadeepaw's frontal cortex. Something about hunting newborns? Ugh, why did all of her mentors have to be so boring?

With a long beleaguered sigh, Chickadeepaw flops onto her side, paws sprawled out in front of her, grasping at nothing. She takes a whack at understanding her mentor again, this time prompting with: "So..... does that mean we always have to thank StarClan when we catch something? Because that's what happens when you die, you go to StarClan?"​