leafhusk
carve your name on arrival
- Jan 4, 2024
- 208
- 26
- 28
leafhusk hadn’t slept, but really, who had? as she crouched on the top of the ravine, close to stormfeather and company, she watched the wolves. it brought her back to a simpler time, one of warm blankets and the scent of candles, a soft hand running across her back. the picture on the den wall moving, muffled voices speaking about large muscled beasts running across the plains. being able to see them in person, they were… mundane? basic? she struggled to find a proper word, maybe the adrenaline wearing off was making her too apathetic.
a single microsleep later, and she helped carry stormfeather back down. when the molly is set down, she returns batwing’s head bow and slips out of the den. leafhusk doesn’t notice that her pawsteps maneuver around the blood, cautious to not ruin what remains of the tom. time slows down as she finds a spot in camp to fix her pelt, smoothing it down to force some normalcy right now. her thoughts of buzzing flies, howling, and screams are interrupted; the gorse tunnel clumsily trembles as ghosts float into camp. leafhusk jumps to her paws, freezing in her spot, unsure of what emotions are rushing through her.
anger, sadness, frustration— is she allowed to feel this way? yes, of course, nothing will stop her from that, but can she verbalize it. leafhusk bites her tongue, eyes widening like spotlights as the new warriors shuffle towards their leader, the guilt becoming heavier in camp. what happened to them? untouched, not a single fur out of place, unlike the camp full of terrified cats. it made her sick.
//not an intense reaction, but obligatory ic opinions nonetheless
a single microsleep later, and she helped carry stormfeather back down. when the molly is set down, she returns batwing’s head bow and slips out of the den. leafhusk doesn’t notice that her pawsteps maneuver around the blood, cautious to not ruin what remains of the tom. time slows down as she finds a spot in camp to fix her pelt, smoothing it down to force some normalcy right now. her thoughts of buzzing flies, howling, and screams are interrupted; the gorse tunnel clumsily trembles as ghosts float into camp. leafhusk jumps to her paws, freezing in her spot, unsure of what emotions are rushing through her.
anger, sadness, frustration— is she allowed to feel this way? yes, of course, nothing will stop her from that, but can she verbalize it. leafhusk bites her tongue, eyes widening like spotlights as the new warriors shuffle towards their leader, the guilt becoming heavier in camp. what happened to them? untouched, not a single fur out of place, unlike the camp full of terrified cats. it made her sick.
//not an intense reaction, but obligatory ic opinions nonetheless