I TOLD YOU ONCE, I CAN'T DO THIS AGAIN
Restless epiphanies are something Roepaw is not foreign to, and neither is tossing and turning in her nest while everyone else around her sleeps peacefully.
At some point in the night, she had given up on squeezing her eyes shut and finally decides to open them. The night is darker without the snow, and having earned her place further in the Apprentices den, she realizes she cannot see the stars much anymore.
Someone stirs nearby and the tabby almost flinches, her instinctual first thought being Robinpaw, picking her way through the sleeping apprentices to quietly torment Roepaw.
That’s when she remembers, the vile molly isn’t Robinpaw anymore, but Robincall. Not that the newly deemed warrior bothers Roepaw much anymore either.
I could kick her ass now, anyways.
The thought brings a light smirk to her maw, and her thoughts begin to dance from one positive revelation to another. Her impending warriorhood, her mended relationship with Flycatcher, the comfort she found in her friendship with Snowpaw, her baby sibling figures, everything had become smoothed out, her path had become lightened.
For how long?
The thought is blunt and abrupt, and Roepaw shrinks herself closer into her nest. How long before someone dies? Before her lungs give out? What will happen when the path she is on becomes too smooth and she inevitably hits a rock- a boulder, with her luck it was just a matter of time.
She rolls to her back, pastel hues bright against the dens lack of light. While she cannot see that stars, she cannot see the dead either, and they are still with her right?
Creek? Sylis? Are you there? Her thoughts pause, is our mama with you? Did you forgive her?
While she isn’t mouse brained enough to think her thoughts will truly be answered, she closes her eyes tightly, finding the sliver of comfort of talking to her lost siblings. Please, show me that the good things won’t come to an end just yet… they can’t, you can’t show me these beautiful things in life and just rip them away from me again, you know? Please, just show me something that I can hold on to.
Her thoughts plead, drifting off towards the last of her monologue as the magic kiss of sleep finally reaches her.
The next morning, her eyes are sharper than ever, fixated on every detail of every thing, looking for her answer.
So much so, that she barely realizes she has fallen behind her hunting patrol. "No need to wait, I wanted to hunt alone anyways!" She chimed after them, but honestly not surprised the warriors had grown weary from her antics the older she had gotten.
She sets off on her own path, tail brushing along the barely formed blooms of the under growth, careful to avoid the crunch of still-golden leaves.
A ladybug is almost swept away by her brushing, and Roepaw quickly fixes her disruption, muttering a quiet sorry to the insect.
huff, huff, huff
The panting that diverts her attention is nothing feline, the cinnamon tabby can tell that within a heartbeat.
She drops to a crouch, her earth toned pelt poorly blending in with the gold and green of the forest.
Peering through the thin branches of a shrub, narrowed eyes quickly widen when in front of her is a pair of stick-thin and awkward legs, their color almost matching hers.
They are stood awkwardly, too far apart. Roepaw shrinks slightly back, her perspective widening to see a fawn. Barely old enough to eat right, apparently.
The soft crunch and the legs that stride from behind the fawn are much more elegant and deliberate, but much too quick for Roepaw to truly register in time before the others larger head bends forwards toward her child, and within moments Roepaw is staring into the daunting eyes of a mother deer, who peers at her through the branches with mere curiosity.
The small apprentice is frozen, her limbs unwilling to move against the risk she will set the mother off- who could crush her like a mouse.
Several heartbeats pass before the deer finally withdraws, deeming Roepaw benign to her child. Still, she nudges the fawn away, and the two are gone through the still brittle foliage in a blink.
It’s Roepaw’s turn to pant and huff now as she stands, still frozen to her place behind the shrub, her heart racing with both excitement and rising adrenaline.
I know that was you. She thinks once again to the hidden stars.
"speech."
At some point in the night, she had given up on squeezing her eyes shut and finally decides to open them. The night is darker without the snow, and having earned her place further in the Apprentices den, she realizes she cannot see the stars much anymore.
Someone stirs nearby and the tabby almost flinches, her instinctual first thought being Robinpaw, picking her way through the sleeping apprentices to quietly torment Roepaw.
That’s when she remembers, the vile molly isn’t Robinpaw anymore, but Robincall. Not that the newly deemed warrior bothers Roepaw much anymore either.
I could kick her ass now, anyways.
The thought brings a light smirk to her maw, and her thoughts begin to dance from one positive revelation to another. Her impending warriorhood, her mended relationship with Flycatcher, the comfort she found in her friendship with Snowpaw, her baby sibling figures, everything had become smoothed out, her path had become lightened.
For how long?
The thought is blunt and abrupt, and Roepaw shrinks herself closer into her nest. How long before someone dies? Before her lungs give out? What will happen when the path she is on becomes too smooth and she inevitably hits a rock- a boulder, with her luck it was just a matter of time.
She rolls to her back, pastel hues bright against the dens lack of light. While she cannot see that stars, she cannot see the dead either, and they are still with her right?
Creek? Sylis? Are you there? Her thoughts pause, is our mama with you? Did you forgive her?
While she isn’t mouse brained enough to think her thoughts will truly be answered, she closes her eyes tightly, finding the sliver of comfort of talking to her lost siblings. Please, show me that the good things won’t come to an end just yet… they can’t, you can’t show me these beautiful things in life and just rip them away from me again, you know? Please, just show me something that I can hold on to.
Her thoughts plead, drifting off towards the last of her monologue as the magic kiss of sleep finally reaches her.
The next morning, her eyes are sharper than ever, fixated on every detail of every thing, looking for her answer.
So much so, that she barely realizes she has fallen behind her hunting patrol. "No need to wait, I wanted to hunt alone anyways!" She chimed after them, but honestly not surprised the warriors had grown weary from her antics the older she had gotten.
She sets off on her own path, tail brushing along the barely formed blooms of the under growth, careful to avoid the crunch of still-golden leaves.
A ladybug is almost swept away by her brushing, and Roepaw quickly fixes her disruption, muttering a quiet sorry to the insect.
huff, huff, huff
The panting that diverts her attention is nothing feline, the cinnamon tabby can tell that within a heartbeat.
She drops to a crouch, her earth toned pelt poorly blending in with the gold and green of the forest.
Peering through the thin branches of a shrub, narrowed eyes quickly widen when in front of her is a pair of stick-thin and awkward legs, their color almost matching hers.
They are stood awkwardly, too far apart. Roepaw shrinks slightly back, her perspective widening to see a fawn. Barely old enough to eat right, apparently.
The soft crunch and the legs that stride from behind the fawn are much more elegant and deliberate, but much too quick for Roepaw to truly register in time before the others larger head bends forwards toward her child, and within moments Roepaw is staring into the daunting eyes of a mother deer, who peers at her through the branches with mere curiosity.
The small apprentice is frozen, her limbs unwilling to move against the risk she will set the mother off- who could crush her like a mouse.
Several heartbeats pass before the deer finally withdraws, deeming Roepaw benign to her child. Still, she nudges the fawn away, and the two are gone through the still brittle foliage in a blink.
It’s Roepaw’s turn to pant and huff now as she stands, still frozen to her place behind the shrub, her heart racing with both excitement and rising adrenaline.
I know that was you. She thinks once again to the hidden stars.
"speech."