- Jan 10, 2023
- 17
- 12
- 3
![oak-leaf-in-minimalist-boho-and-vintage-hand-drawn-illustration-for-design-element-free-png.png](https://static.vecteezy.com/system/resources/previews/014/177/023/non_2x/oak-leaf-in-minimalist-boho-and-vintage-hand-drawn-illustration-for-design-element-free-png.png)
When Heavybranch had first joined the marsh group moons ago, he had been long past being a young tom. Younger than now, he'd still seen it fit to hunt when he was hungry and fight when needed. Things had been less formal back then; Heavybranch doesn't know the day he retired. His joints started to ache more by the days, his lungs had soured. Younger cats had started to notice his age more and more, would offer to fetch him a fresh vole or bring him wet moss to drink from, until one day Heavybranch had realized moons had gone by since he last lifted a paw for himself.
The marsh group has since eased into ShadowClan, and suddenly Heavybranch had his current name, and he was an elder by rank. The change had done little to effect his day to day. Sometimes his clanmates would approach him for a bit of an advice or an ear to bend, but more often than not they visited Heavybranch for no other reason than to tend to him — apprentices who'd taken it as a duty rather than a kindness to pluck his fleas and soften his nest. This way felt lonelier, less like he was thought about for the sake of himself, moreso that he was an obstacle in the form of a task in the way of the clan's adolescents to their free time.
Despite this shift, the kits never changed.
They've always followed behind Heavybranch, curious about his age or wanting a game. Today is no different — he hears a gaggle approaching as he settles in a sunbeam, and turns his head just in time to see the group come to a stop. Heavybranch doesn't need to ask what the kits want. He knows the look already.
❝Eager today, hmm? You ever hear about a strange animal called a lynx?❞
There is a tone Heavybranch takes up, loud enough to be heard clearly but quiet enough to tempt a listener to lean in closer. A touch conspiratorial, as if the knowledge Heavybranch is about to impart is a grand secret, exciting and dangerous. It's a voice that says gather around now, the story is about to begin.
/tagging:
@COMFREYKIT
@RAGGEDPAW.
@Crowpaw.
no need to wait for them to reply!
The marsh group has since eased into ShadowClan, and suddenly Heavybranch had his current name, and he was an elder by rank. The change had done little to effect his day to day. Sometimes his clanmates would approach him for a bit of an advice or an ear to bend, but more often than not they visited Heavybranch for no other reason than to tend to him — apprentices who'd taken it as a duty rather than a kindness to pluck his fleas and soften his nest. This way felt lonelier, less like he was thought about for the sake of himself, moreso that he was an obstacle in the form of a task in the way of the clan's adolescents to their free time.
Despite this shift, the kits never changed.
They've always followed behind Heavybranch, curious about his age or wanting a game. Today is no different — he hears a gaggle approaching as he settles in a sunbeam, and turns his head just in time to see the group come to a stop. Heavybranch doesn't need to ask what the kits want. He knows the look already.
❝Eager today, hmm? You ever hear about a strange animal called a lynx?❞
There is a tone Heavybranch takes up, loud enough to be heard clearly but quiet enough to tempt a listener to lean in closer. A touch conspiratorial, as if the knowledge Heavybranch is about to impart is a grand secret, exciting and dangerous. It's a voice that says gather around now, the story is about to begin.
/tagging:
@COMFREYKIT
@RAGGEDPAW.
@Crowpaw.
no need to wait for them to reply!
P. 14