- Sep 29, 2023
- 105
- 27
- 28
˚⊹₊‧ 𖦹 Ashenpaw should've died too, he knew this. There was no good reason for Siltcloud to have ripped apart Comfreypaw enough to make her keel over and die before even reaching the entrance of camp while Ashenpaw got away from her with only a stupid-looking cat-bite on his shoulder. It was nothing but a matter of luck and unluck, a mockery of divine judgment.
Whatever. Comfreypaw was his den-mate — had been since they were kits. More importantly, Comfreypaw was his sister's best friend. And now she was dead — murdered, actually, and for no reason.
"Applepaw, you're not busy," he strode up to her on that particular evening, "Help me with this real quick, yeah?" He would allow no further questions as he nosed over a raven feather toward her before picking up the few dried mushrooms he'd been carrying and swiveling to leave camp, hoping she'd have the sense to follow him.
They would walk only a short distance before reaching their destination, Ashenpaw's paws following a well-worn path he could walk with his eyes closed at this point. The sky was quiet tonight, there was no wind ruffling tortoiseshell fur when they reached Shadowclan's burial grounds, only the soft drift of snowflakes to fall lazily onto blue and cream. He dropped his offering of mushrooms onto the graves he'd become most familiar with, Halfshade's and Dreamkit's, but he would continue walking to reach another. He would look back finally to see if Applepaw had followed him with the feather, it was for Comfreypaw.
"Haven't seen Smogmaw come around here," he said, breaking the stillness of the frigid air between them, though he would turn his face from her to idly observe the snowflakes stick to the ground. Ashenpaw left the information there without any further indication of judgment for their father. He couldn't place how he felt, but through his periphery he would watch Applepaw's reaction for any indication that she felt any kind of way about it. "'Course, I haven't seen you around lately either so..." he shrugged, simultaneously bringing up and then dismissing his concern.
"I didn't want it to be a whole, you know..." he gestured vaguely, feeling out of his depth. He didn't want the thing that kept Smogmaw away to latch onto her too. The thing that kept Smogmaw away as if he would fall headfirst into his own grave the moment he stepped a foot into this place was something Ashenpaw could not confront for him. He thought perhaps it was the same thing that forced him to return nearly every night, a polarized magnet this graveyard was. Ashenpaw wished he could say something comforting to his sister, or offer her anything more substantial than a frigid trip to a depressing burial ground.
Instead, he cleared his throat and muttered, "Sorry."
Whatever. Comfreypaw was his den-mate — had been since they were kits. More importantly, Comfreypaw was his sister's best friend. And now she was dead — murdered, actually, and for no reason.
"Applepaw, you're not busy," he strode up to her on that particular evening, "Help me with this real quick, yeah?" He would allow no further questions as he nosed over a raven feather toward her before picking up the few dried mushrooms he'd been carrying and swiveling to leave camp, hoping she'd have the sense to follow him.
They would walk only a short distance before reaching their destination, Ashenpaw's paws following a well-worn path he could walk with his eyes closed at this point. The sky was quiet tonight, there was no wind ruffling tortoiseshell fur when they reached Shadowclan's burial grounds, only the soft drift of snowflakes to fall lazily onto blue and cream. He dropped his offering of mushrooms onto the graves he'd become most familiar with, Halfshade's and Dreamkit's, but he would continue walking to reach another. He would look back finally to see if Applepaw had followed him with the feather, it was for Comfreypaw.
"Haven't seen Smogmaw come around here," he said, breaking the stillness of the frigid air between them, though he would turn his face from her to idly observe the snowflakes stick to the ground. Ashenpaw left the information there without any further indication of judgment for their father. He couldn't place how he felt, but through his periphery he would watch Applepaw's reaction for any indication that she felt any kind of way about it. "'Course, I haven't seen you around lately either so..." he shrugged, simultaneously bringing up and then dismissing his concern.
"I didn't want it to be a whole, you know..." he gestured vaguely, feeling out of his depth. He didn't want the thing that kept Smogmaw away to latch onto her too. The thing that kept Smogmaw away as if he would fall headfirst into his own grave the moment he stepped a foot into this place was something Ashenpaw could not confront for him. He thought perhaps it was the same thing that forced him to return nearly every night, a polarized magnet this graveyard was. Ashenpaw wished he could say something comforting to his sister, or offer her anything more substantial than a frigid trip to a depressing burial ground.
Instead, he cleared his throat and muttered, "Sorry."
- OOC: @APPLEPAW
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ashenkit. ashenpaw
— ftm transmasc. he/him. 9mo apprentice of shadowclan. mentored by smogmaw
— muted blue torbie w/ pale blue and amber eyes
— smells of rainsoaked fern and swamp milkweed
— all ic opinions!
— “speech”, thoughts, attack
— icon by nya, fullbody by tropics, sticker by saturnid
— penned by eezy
