( ♬ ) watching the new and old life of the river begin to intermingle, willowroot can't help but think of their upbringing. their territory was the cold port town, their favorite colors the grey of the skies and the hue of the dark black sea. from the minute they had opened their eyes, they can remember training. practicing the hunter's crouch over and over again until, at four moons, they had caught a mouse. it hadn't been an honest kill- the creature was limping and left to die by its companions. still, willow remembers the joy exploding in their chest, the ringing voices of the twolegs who snatched them up and cradled them with rough yet sturdy arms. where their parents had failed, the sailors of the port had succeeded. it had been the mens' love and doting that raised them, the knowledge that even as they were slinking back to the overcrowded box of their siblings, someone wanted them. someone waited for them. at five moons, they'd been taken, finally, onto the fishing vessels of the twolegs, and, on that cold day, they had said goodbye to their blood family. their true family waited aboard.
three moons of the most blissful life they can remember. three moons of hunting and cuddling and getting fed little scraps of fish. when the ship sank, it had felt like a dream. now, willowroot sits on the island camp, gazing at the sun in the sky, the bright twinkling of the rushing water, and cannot find any connection to the depths of the sea from which she came. her name is no longer caraway, her paws are now more deft and she can't help but wonder whether her old fisherman friends would ever recognize her.
one thing does remain from those days- stories. these are tales that she was built on and in turn passed to buck and raccoon, and then finally to boar. the pirate stories of days long past lurk in her brain, and she wonders if anyone in riverclan would care. slender paws tap across camp towards the side of the nursery, where she will sit, daintily curling her tail over her paws. "kits, warriors and all in between or otherwise! i have a story to tell. if you wish to hear a tale of adventure, of monsters and heroes, come gather around me!" a grin twitching at her maw, the smoke waits, hope swelling in her chest. this is something she knows.
three moons of the most blissful life they can remember. three moons of hunting and cuddling and getting fed little scraps of fish. when the ship sank, it had felt like a dream. now, willowroot sits on the island camp, gazing at the sun in the sky, the bright twinkling of the rushing water, and cannot find any connection to the depths of the sea from which she came. her name is no longer caraway, her paws are now more deft and she can't help but wonder whether her old fisherman friends would ever recognize her.
one thing does remain from those days- stories. these are tales that she was built on and in turn passed to buck and raccoon, and then finally to boar. the pirate stories of days long past lurk in her brain, and she wonders if anyone in riverclan would care. slender paws tap across camp towards the side of the nursery, where she will sit, daintily curling her tail over her paws. "kits, warriors and all in between or otherwise! i have a story to tell. if you wish to hear a tale of adventure, of monsters and heroes, come gather around me!" a grin twitching at her maw, the smoke waits, hope swelling in her chest. this is something she knows.
( THE LIGHT YOU GAVE ME )