- Aug 28, 2024
- 22
- 10
- 3
Celandinepaw, Wolfsong's new progeny. Tigersting's ðir picked the golden molly to be his successor, another set of healing paws to fight against yellowcough and nurse their ill clanmates. Cottonsprig's disappearance was unfortunate, a terrible coincidence as yellowcough began to emerge from the inside out. But comparatively Celandinepaw is a better choice (in Tigersting's mind) to be Wolfsong's apprentice. An outsider, sure... but better an outsider than the daughter of tyrannical Moor Queen's daughter.
The twist of jealousy is inescapable despite the gladness Celandinepaw is there to ensure her ðir does not work himself to death. Even prior to the destructive illness and the absence of Cottonsprig, Tigersting felt the jealousy writhing wildly within herself watching the way in which Wolfsong trained Cottonsprig. Tigersting is a kit no longer, but in those moments where the jealousy nearly knocks the breath out of her she wishes she was at Wolfsong's side, the center of his attention with her siblings. Jealousy sometimes takes control of herself, pushes the tabby to mutter words she'll regret at once. Torn between jealousy, the fear for Wolfsong's safety and relief he must not shoulder it on his lonesome; Tigersting feels lightheaded and floats in a daze towards Celandinepaw.
"You should be grateful, y'know?" The remark comes out as a sneer, a half-hearted attempt to intimidate Celandinepaw. Tigersting prowls closer, shoulders rolled back beneath striking tabby stripes as she stops in front of them. "Are you... are you grateful to be given the honor of training under my ðir?" Amber eyes are hardened as they stare upon the golden-furred tabby, a needle-like frown crossing her features.
Tigersting should be grateful, that there was one willing to take on such a responsibility. She has seen the way the in which her ðir faces horrors: the byproducts of war, the deaths which were not preventable, the exhaustion one faces as they stay up all hours of the night ensuring a patient does not slip away to Starclan. It is troubling though, as a part of herself is grateful for Celandinepaw, that her father does not have to face the illness alone.
The dueling, contradicting sentiments tug at herself and a flood of weariness overcomes her, forcing her to settle in defeat on her haunches. The chocolate tabby seems to shrink in size, in intimidation. Tigersting mumbles pitifully, "You keep an eye on him, okay? Or... or... I'll bite ya and tell him you tried to bite me first." She flicks the unruly fur of her head away with a paw and fixes Celandinepaw with despondent glare, her face appearing sullen as she bites the inside of her cheeks nervously.
The twist of jealousy is inescapable despite the gladness Celandinepaw is there to ensure her ðir does not work himself to death. Even prior to the destructive illness and the absence of Cottonsprig, Tigersting felt the jealousy writhing wildly within herself watching the way in which Wolfsong trained Cottonsprig. Tigersting is a kit no longer, but in those moments where the jealousy nearly knocks the breath out of her she wishes she was at Wolfsong's side, the center of his attention with her siblings. Jealousy sometimes takes control of herself, pushes the tabby to mutter words she'll regret at once. Torn between jealousy, the fear for Wolfsong's safety and relief he must not shoulder it on his lonesome; Tigersting feels lightheaded and floats in a daze towards Celandinepaw.
"You should be grateful, y'know?" The remark comes out as a sneer, a half-hearted attempt to intimidate Celandinepaw. Tigersting prowls closer, shoulders rolled back beneath striking tabby stripes as she stops in front of them. "Are you... are you grateful to be given the honor of training under my ðir?" Amber eyes are hardened as they stare upon the golden-furred tabby, a needle-like frown crossing her features.
Tigersting should be grateful, that there was one willing to take on such a responsibility. She has seen the way the in which her ðir faces horrors: the byproducts of war, the deaths which were not preventable, the exhaustion one faces as they stay up all hours of the night ensuring a patient does not slip away to Starclan. It is troubling though, as a part of herself is grateful for Celandinepaw, that her father does not have to face the illness alone.
The dueling, contradicting sentiments tug at herself and a flood of weariness overcomes her, forcing her to settle in defeat on her haunches. The chocolate tabby seems to shrink in size, in intimidation. Tigersting mumbles pitifully, "You keep an eye on him, okay? Or... or... I'll bite ya and tell him you tried to bite me first." She flicks the unruly fur of her head away with a paw and fixes Celandinepaw with despondent glare, her face appearing sullen as she bites the inside of her cheeks nervously.
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@CELANDINEPAW
// prior to cotton's reappearance and wolf's sickness!! -
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