- May 5, 2023
- 541
- 228
- 43
The wind is gentle today, waving her cheek fur into soft rippling whispers about her face where she's sitting in camp, eerily reminiscent of the salt - breathing gusts of her dream last night. It's troubling her, that one, and though she can only remember faint snatches of grey and gold, tears and a turned back, she does not recall these scraps pleasantly. She'd taken the time to sit apart from her Clanmates and attempt to reflect on it, but something else has captured her attention.
The tabby sighs, pale green eye settled on one of the many mentor - apprentice duos that stream in and out of camp each day. Tattered velvet ears swivel back to lie close to her head, a pensive frown overtaking her scarred muzzle as she watches her sons. Crowsight is saying something to Lionpaw, his posture as rigid and stern as ever, while his half - brother nods dutifully. She doesn't bother trying to fight the droop of a tired green eye, the way the corners of her mouth pull downwards. I should be happy, she thinks, but I'm not.
Seeing the two of them juxtaposed feels like a frightening premonition. She had failed Crowsight spectacularly as his mother, in some indefinable way she'd never quite grasped; but did it matter? The result was she'd reaped her poisonous crop, and the kit who once hung onto her leg like a smoky little shadow now hardly spoke to her. Would Lionpaw turn out the same? Would begging for one more story of LionClan before bedtime turn into a turned torbie cheek?
She doesn't feel like a good mother.
" Oh—Oh, hey, Figfeather. " The arrival of the marmalade she - cat in the patch of mossy shade where Bobbie rests, a barely - touched bird planted before white paws, startles her out of her reverie. " I was thinking . . . if Orangestar honors me with another apprentice, maybe you could give them some ground hunting lessons? " The intent is genuine, but it's painfully obvious the older she - cat's focus is elsewhere—eye trained on a smoky pelt and a torbie one, a gloomy expression tugging at an already tired face.
// @FIGFEATHER !!]
The tabby sighs, pale green eye settled on one of the many mentor - apprentice duos that stream in and out of camp each day. Tattered velvet ears swivel back to lie close to her head, a pensive frown overtaking her scarred muzzle as she watches her sons. Crowsight is saying something to Lionpaw, his posture as rigid and stern as ever, while his half - brother nods dutifully. She doesn't bother trying to fight the droop of a tired green eye, the way the corners of her mouth pull downwards. I should be happy, she thinks, but I'm not.
Seeing the two of them juxtaposed feels like a frightening premonition. She had failed Crowsight spectacularly as his mother, in some indefinable way she'd never quite grasped; but did it matter? The result was she'd reaped her poisonous crop, and the kit who once hung onto her leg like a smoky little shadow now hardly spoke to her. Would Lionpaw turn out the same? Would begging for one more story of LionClan before bedtime turn into a turned torbie cheek?
She doesn't feel like a good mother.
" Oh—Oh, hey, Figfeather. " The arrival of the marmalade she - cat in the patch of mossy shade where Bobbie rests, a barely - touched bird planted before white paws, startles her out of her reverie. " I was thinking . . . if Orangestar honors me with another apprentice, maybe you could give them some ground hunting lessons? " The intent is genuine, but it's painfully obvious the older she - cat's focus is elsewhere—eye trained on a smoky pelt and a torbie one, a gloomy expression tugging at an already tired face.
// @FIGFEATHER !!]
" speech "