- Mar 15, 2024
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Every night she hoped for word from StarClan. Admiring Silverpelt's majesty, staining its visage behind her eyelids before she went to bed each night ... it was a deliberate ritual, a call to them. Their message would arrive regarding her mission, not simply small pointers on who to befriend, what avenues to walk down the next day. Something truly imbued with the Truth would reach her. The night had grown old, and Thundergleam had felt the ballet of anticipation in her stomach, pirouetting butterflies. She could not falter. She had to be steadfast, when at last StarClan would show their approval - or, their disapproval.
In her life, Thundergleam had been trained to know a Star-blessed dream from one conjured by her own mind. This was the former ... it thrummed with power, the winds rumbling with a hymn. This was not the idealistic plain she knew, though ... there were no glowing spirits speaking to her, no dotted figures with a thousand voices. No, no ... it was only the feeling that told her of this dream's origin, the whipping breeze tingling with omen.
There was a figure, aglow. Sobbing. Choking on its breaths so heavily, Thundergleam feared it may die ... grow cold in her paws, smote by suffering. Pain, the most evil thing on this earth... ever affecting, ever in orbit. It pulled cats in and never let them free- wrung claws around fragile throats and kept them there, until despair reduced them to a shell, unable to help themselves and unable to sustain ThunderClan. Without help- without mercy, Father had told her- ThunderClan would die. And with the misfortune that kept befalling them, it seemed an inevitability.
Unless they had a saviour.
Thundergleam neared the crying cat, pity glittering in pale eyes. She pressed against it, but it sobbed more and more and more. The warmth in her body was split, and her own eyes too began to leak. Her tears landed on her newly-unsheathed claws, splintering into droplets. White-hot pain shot through her foot- she bit back a yowl, choked on the agony itself, doubled over with a gag. The more she tried to raise her claws, put it out of its misery, the more wailing voices she heard... the more grief flowed through everything, everywhere.
The figure still wept, unfazed.
Pain persisted until she hid her claws, once again. "What is the matter?" she begged, lips trembling, tears hitching on snowy lashes. Nothing, nothing still. It was inconsolable, piteous ... this was no life, huddled and denying help. If she could not speak, if she could not send them to the heavens, then what, what?
A tear in its eye caught starlight, glimmered in a streaking flare. Thundergleam leaned forward, a pink tongue slipping out. Tenderly, she touched that falling tear with her tongue.
Wetness spread across the surface. Thundergleam swallowed- the tears, despite being borne of sorrow, tasted argently imbued. With every tear that fell, she drank. Again and again and again, each falling droplet was gathered until they slowed... until there was nothing left but the figure, still and open-eyed. It was smiling.
The border glared in the young, blue morning. He was near, or he had been, but his scent was unlike how it had been before. it was... strange, askew with something that filled her with dread. Thundergleam's jaw trembled- this risk, fleeing in the small hours, was it for nothing?
"Father?" she called.
But nobody came. His scent was stale, odd, and his wisdom suddenly tainted. StarClan had not bade him be here to meet her. This is what I have trained for, she resolved. The day when I must enact my judgement.
The sun would rise, reflected in determined pink eyes.
In her life, Thundergleam had been trained to know a Star-blessed dream from one conjured by her own mind. This was the former ... it thrummed with power, the winds rumbling with a hymn. This was not the idealistic plain she knew, though ... there were no glowing spirits speaking to her, no dotted figures with a thousand voices. No, no ... it was only the feeling that told her of this dream's origin, the whipping breeze tingling with omen.
There was a figure, aglow. Sobbing. Choking on its breaths so heavily, Thundergleam feared it may die ... grow cold in her paws, smote by suffering. Pain, the most evil thing on this earth... ever affecting, ever in orbit. It pulled cats in and never let them free- wrung claws around fragile throats and kept them there, until despair reduced them to a shell, unable to help themselves and unable to sustain ThunderClan. Without help- without mercy, Father had told her- ThunderClan would die. And with the misfortune that kept befalling them, it seemed an inevitability.
Unless they had a saviour.
Thundergleam neared the crying cat, pity glittering in pale eyes. She pressed against it, but it sobbed more and more and more. The warmth in her body was split, and her own eyes too began to leak. Her tears landed on her newly-unsheathed claws, splintering into droplets. White-hot pain shot through her foot- she bit back a yowl, choked on the agony itself, doubled over with a gag. The more she tried to raise her claws, put it out of its misery, the more wailing voices she heard... the more grief flowed through everything, everywhere.
The figure still wept, unfazed.
Pain persisted until she hid her claws, once again. "What is the matter?" she begged, lips trembling, tears hitching on snowy lashes. Nothing, nothing still. It was inconsolable, piteous ... this was no life, huddled and denying help. If she could not speak, if she could not send them to the heavens, then what, what?
A tear in its eye caught starlight, glimmered in a streaking flare. Thundergleam leaned forward, a pink tongue slipping out. Tenderly, she touched that falling tear with her tongue.
Wetness spread across the surface. Thundergleam swallowed- the tears, despite being borne of sorrow, tasted argently imbued. With every tear that fell, she drank. Again and again and again, each falling droplet was gathered until they slowed... until there was nothing left but the figure, still and open-eyed. It was smiling.
✧
The border glared in the young, blue morning. He was near, or he had been, but his scent was unlike how it had been before. it was... strange, askew with something that filled her with dread. Thundergleam's jaw trembled- this risk, fleeing in the small hours, was it for nothing?
"Father?" she called.
But nobody came. His scent was stale, odd, and his wisdom suddenly tainted. StarClan had not bade him be here to meet her. This is what I have trained for, she resolved. The day when I must enact my judgement.
The sun would rise, reflected in determined pink eyes.
penned by pin ☾
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