- Jun 7, 2022
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Blazestar can barely stand without grimacing, the scant weight of his body after a moon and a half of minimal prey and selective eating his only saving grace. Heaving himself to his paws takes precision, excess care -- StarClan returned what should be inside his body to its correct chambers, but the wound itself, though sewn shut, threatens to spill again with too much movement.
Snow, packed even into his den, is cool on his stomach. He's given himself a few brief hours of rest, his brain buzzing but his body giving in. When he awakes, he's pleased at the clarity his mind is offering him.
He has not felt this way since Morningpaw's death, since Little Wolf, Moonpaw and Burnpaw were taken from him. Since Emberstar's proposal.
With some bitterness, some irony, Blazestar supposes he should thank the WindClan dogs for returning him to himself.
He gives his paws, his grief-dull and battle-snarled cream coat a brief and careful, pained grooming. It will have to do. Still running his tongue around his ginger jaws, he sends for Cicadastar. When the opening to his den darkens with the leader's shadow, he will beckon: "Cicadastar. Please."
It's a strangely intimate thing, to have a leader from a rival Clan in one's sleeping space. Blazestar's is desolate, sterile. There are no trinkets, no feathers or soft materials woven into his nest. Utilitarian. His place of private grief, the place he'd taken to dreams when he should have been awake, leading his Clan, present for his SkyClan kits.
Blazestar is embarrassed for Cicadastar to see what his Clan has been seeing, but there's no time to dwell. The snowstorm is thick. "RiverClan will be wanting to go, I know, before we're all snowed in here." He regards the black and white chimera wearily. "But I wanted to thank you and your Clan for aiding us. It's possible WindClan would have killed us all, or driven us out into the blizzard." He clicks his tongue against his teeth.
"Two leaders now her mutts have attacked." His accented voice, rough with anger, comes back to Blazestar. The Ragdoll meets Cicadastar's gaze, sunlit ice meshing with dark, churning waters. "Sootstar is no fool. She allied with Pitchstar knowing it would free her to commit atrocities." His words are almost toneless, thoughtful. "She knows she can rally ShadowClan to help her when SkyClan or RiverClan retaliates. Her only friends in the forest."
He thinks about Emberstar's enmity with the rosette tabby, and his jaw sets. "SkyClan and RiverClan have never been friends. And we don't have to be. But perhaps..." He trails off. He's laid the bait, and he waits for Cicadastar to take it.
Snow, packed even into his den, is cool on his stomach. He's given himself a few brief hours of rest, his brain buzzing but his body giving in. When he awakes, he's pleased at the clarity his mind is offering him.
He has not felt this way since Morningpaw's death, since Little Wolf, Moonpaw and Burnpaw were taken from him. Since Emberstar's proposal.
With some bitterness, some irony, Blazestar supposes he should thank the WindClan dogs for returning him to himself.
He gives his paws, his grief-dull and battle-snarled cream coat a brief and careful, pained grooming. It will have to do. Still running his tongue around his ginger jaws, he sends for Cicadastar. When the opening to his den darkens with the leader's shadow, he will beckon: "Cicadastar. Please."
It's a strangely intimate thing, to have a leader from a rival Clan in one's sleeping space. Blazestar's is desolate, sterile. There are no trinkets, no feathers or soft materials woven into his nest. Utilitarian. His place of private grief, the place he'd taken to dreams when he should have been awake, leading his Clan, present for his SkyClan kits.
Blazestar is embarrassed for Cicadastar to see what his Clan has been seeing, but there's no time to dwell. The snowstorm is thick. "RiverClan will be wanting to go, I know, before we're all snowed in here." He regards the black and white chimera wearily. "But I wanted to thank you and your Clan for aiding us. It's possible WindClan would have killed us all, or driven us out into the blizzard." He clicks his tongue against his teeth.
"Two leaders now her mutts have attacked." His accented voice, rough with anger, comes back to Blazestar. The Ragdoll meets Cicadastar's gaze, sunlit ice meshing with dark, churning waters. "Sootstar is no fool. She allied with Pitchstar knowing it would free her to commit atrocities." His words are almost toneless, thoughtful. "She knows she can rally ShadowClan to help her when SkyClan or RiverClan retaliates. Her only friends in the forest."
He thinks about Emberstar's enmity with the rosette tabby, and his jaw sets. "SkyClan and RiverClan have never been friends. And we don't have to be. But perhaps..." He trails off. He's laid the bait, and he waits for Cicadastar to take it.
