- Jul 8, 2022
- 85
- 12
- 8
Run, run, Lost Boy✧
The medicine den was quiet aside from breathing, and even their own breath seemed to irritate them. No one seemed to want to visit with them; Buckgait had grown busy or something with her new position as deputy, Willowroot was busy with Poppysplash or Smokethroat, and Raccoon felt very- alone. Frostpaw didn't even come to visit anymore and it dawned on them how truly friendless they where in life. The medicine den was becoming mind numbing in a way as the same four walls surrounded them, but yet they couldn't get up the energy to go out of the den. Walking felt like a chore, so did grooming and food was thought of less. The usually bright apprentice seemed to have shifted in their personality almost, and their orange eyes stared out at the reed wall before them. Watching the sunlight flicker through holes in the den, and they scrunched up on themselves as a cold chill blew through the dens' tunnel entrance.
"Do you think they've forgotten about me?" They questioned outloud, but there wasn't anyone really around to hear them. Beesong had gone out of the den for a moment, something about medicine stuff or something, and that left Raccoonpaw on their own for a moment. They probably should be getting up and doing exercises to keep their shoulder from going stiff, or hurting more than it already did, and they knew their back could also use movement. So, they stood on lanky, black legs and lowered their head almost like a sad kitten. Raccoonpaw paced the floor of the medicine den for a moment, taking deep breaths and making sure to put weight on their front leg.
Back and forth, back and forth, at least five times with breaks inbetween or something close to what they were told to do. The white bodied apprentice flattened their ears to their head and stopped abruptly in their tracks; this was stupid. They shouldn't be here right now, they should've never gone into that trap or after that fox! Now that they were in the confines of Beesongs' home it was like the clan had forgotten about them. Life moved onwards without much care for Raccoonpaw. It rose up this feeling of resentment, bubbling in their throat as the world flashed before them in the forms of cold rain. Young kitten mewling around them, but there was no warmth. Just hardened tree bark from a willow tree, and then stillness as the mewling weakened through days.
Raccoonpaw recalled their early days of life as cold and still, no mother or caregiver, just them and their siblings. Serenity was the only one of Raccoons' litter to live, and the only one who remember their mother as well because she had opened her eyes before their mother left. Was that what was happening again? That they were being left behind once more because they where too much? Was their cheerie demeanor a lot for the cats of Riverclan? Raccoonpaw wasn't sure, but it made their face tighten. Unshed tears threatened orange eyes and they sat down in the middle of the den, clutching the cold ground with their claws. It just wasn't fair.