- Oct 19, 2023
- 3
- 0
- 1
Wounds from the rogues dot her limbs and shoulders; she's quite lucky that they begin and end there. Her tattered ears and face have seen quite enough in this lifetime, and though she does not mind her appearance, it begins to ache when the weather takes a turn. The skin of her scars tightens, even if they are not bared to the sky with thanks given to her dense fur. Irregardless, she winces. Perhaps some of these will become much the same. Her tongue scrapes over the wounds that Wolfsong has already done his best to diligently heal. Admittedly, she does understand that she should not. Whatever mystical salves the healers had applied would likely not last through her tongue bath.
But it's not her fault they sting so badly.
With a small sigh, the young warrior forces herself to stop. Her teeth clench slightly against the instinct to keep grooming. One paw shifts to press over the other and force stillness. It doesn't last long. She almost reflexively asks StarClan for help before remembering what they did, her mood immediately souring even further. After this plague, the loss of their territory, the loss of Weaselclaw — who can blame Sootstar for how she feels? Who could do anything but support her through it all? So many of her clanmates have shown their true cruelty. And they call her heartless in her cautious silence.
"You know," she speaks to a passing cat, who had paused at the sight of her, "I had thought WindClan united before all of this. How naive."
But it's not her fault they sting so badly.
With a small sigh, the young warrior forces herself to stop. Her teeth clench slightly against the instinct to keep grooming. One paw shifts to press over the other and force stillness. It doesn't last long. She almost reflexively asks StarClan for help before remembering what they did, her mood immediately souring even further. After this plague, the loss of their territory, the loss of Weaselclaw — who can blame Sootstar for how she feels? Who could do anything but support her through it all? So many of her clanmates have shown their true cruelty. And they call her heartless in her cautious silence.
"You know," she speaks to a passing cat, who had paused at the sight of her, "I had thought WindClan united before all of this. How naive."
- OOC. —
-
⋆ 。˚ ☁︎ ˚ 。 ⋆ 。˚☽˚ 。 ⋆ SPOTTEDCLOUD. SHE - HER OR THEY - THEM. YOUNG MOOR RUNNER OF WINDCLAN. PENNED BY REVELATIONS. —————————
—— a sleek, thick-furred molly with a beige and brown pelt and several scars alongside tattered ears. carries herself with wary precision, and seems both generally uncomfortable and wholly belonging in her daily surroundings.
- "speech"