- Apr 3, 2024
- 73
- 20
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⊱⊰ He’d spent all day tucked away in Gentlestorm’s den, refusing to put forth any effort into aiding the clan. If Skyclaw wants him to hunt or fight or train, then he’ll have to send Hopepaw to do it all in StarClan. He’d rather die himself than do anything to benefit the tom who’d led the charge to tear down everything Batwing and Leopardtongue had died for. It’s all… heavy stuff for an apprentice in general, let alone one who had hardly seen his first day out of camp before camp became a place that doesn’t feel like home anymore.
"Mom…" The word slips from his mouth before he can stop it. Roeflame is his mom, but the title belonged to someone else before her. Someone who never got the chance to meet him—to name him. His address is aimed directly into the sky at her, at Leopardtongue, his chin tilted up and tears slipping to trace through lilac fur. "Dad…" It doesn’t feel strange, surprisingly, to address the stars as if they’re actually his parents. But it does feel odd not to receive a response. His paws shuffle anxiously in the dirt. "I’ve never… done this before." A shroud of awkwardness falls over him, unsure of how he should continue. He can’t say anything bad, not when one of Skyclaw’s freaky freaks could be hiding in the shadows anywhere nearby. For a moment he thinks, with a bolt of panic, that he should have woken his brother or Gentlestorm. He shouldn’t have come out here on his own. But as words begin to flow, he feels his anxieties begin to ebb away. He addresses the stars when he pleads, "Please… just help us. You’re StarClan now, so that’s something you can do, right?"
Surely StarClan would step in now. They’ve done it before, he’s heard about it from older cats. But even if they don’t… he still loves his parents. They’re probably doing whatever they can to try and help, just like he is. It just isn’t enough. "I miss you guys. I wish I got to meet you. I wish things were different—better. I wish… I wish…" His expression crumples, folding in on itself, and he’s rendered speechless by his own desperate, gasping breaths. For a moment his head fills with static, frantic horror overtaking him as he realizes that he can’t breathe, can’t manage to suck in any air through the sobs that wrack his body. A paw rises to his throat as though he can fight off the emotion that’s strangling him, but it’s no use. Tears begin to cloud the edges of his vision, leaving only his view of the dark sky and the bright dots that swim within it. He focuses on two stars bunched closely together, and for a moment he swears he sees them—a larger, more silky-furred version of Braveheart, tucked up against the thick fur of the figure he thinks Batwing must have looked like. Please, please. Don’t let them hurt anyone else. Gentlestorm, Coalpaw, Roeflame, Beetlepaw, Dovepaw, Littlepaw, Orangepaw, Burnstorm… Don’t let them die.
His flanks heave with effort, and at last he can breathe again…
"Mom…" The word slips from his mouth before he can stop it. Roeflame is his mom, but the title belonged to someone else before her. Someone who never got the chance to meet him—to name him. His address is aimed directly into the sky at her, at Leopardtongue, his chin tilted up and tears slipping to trace through lilac fur. "Dad…" It doesn’t feel strange, surprisingly, to address the stars as if they’re actually his parents. But it does feel odd not to receive a response. His paws shuffle anxiously in the dirt. "I’ve never… done this before." A shroud of awkwardness falls over him, unsure of how he should continue. He can’t say anything bad, not when one of Skyclaw’s freaky freaks could be hiding in the shadows anywhere nearby. For a moment he thinks, with a bolt of panic, that he should have woken his brother or Gentlestorm. He shouldn’t have come out here on his own. But as words begin to flow, he feels his anxieties begin to ebb away. He addresses the stars when he pleads, "Please… just help us. You’re StarClan now, so that’s something you can do, right?"
Surely StarClan would step in now. They’ve done it before, he’s heard about it from older cats. But even if they don’t… he still loves his parents. They’re probably doing whatever they can to try and help, just like he is. It just isn’t enough. "I miss you guys. I wish I got to meet you. I wish things were different—better. I wish… I wish…" His expression crumples, folding in on itself, and he’s rendered speechless by his own desperate, gasping breaths. For a moment his head fills with static, frantic horror overtaking him as he realizes that he can’t breathe, can’t manage to suck in any air through the sobs that wrack his body. A paw rises to his throat as though he can fight off the emotion that’s strangling him, but it’s no use. Tears begin to cloud the edges of his vision, leaving only his view of the dark sky and the bright dots that swim within it. He focuses on two stars bunched closely together, and for a moment he swears he sees them—a larger, more silky-furred version of Braveheart, tucked up against the thick fur of the figure he thinks Batwing must have looked like. Please, please. Don’t let them hurt anyone else. Gentlestorm, Coalpaw, Roeflame, Beetlepaw, Dovepaw, Littlepaw, Orangepaw, Burnstorm… Don’t let them die.
His flanks heave with effort, and at last he can breathe again…
- ooc: if villain characters post, please don’t interfere with him <3
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HOPEPAW ❯❯ he/him, thunderclan apprentice
⊱ skinny, thick-furred lilac tom with deep copper eyes. soft-spoken and sleepy, but can be a bit of a grouch.
⊱ son ofbatwingandleopardtongue(adopted by roeflame) ; brother to braveheart, hazepaw, cardinalpaw, coalpaw ; adoptive brother to beetlepaw, dovepaw, littlepaw
⊱ mentored by lovelight
⊱ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted ; does not typically like physical contact from anyone besides his family
⊱ penned by foxlore
