private FUSSIN' OVER SCARS ON MY SOUL — howling wind


Jun 8, 2022
Gray sits at the edge of ThunderClan's camp, glaring at his muddied reflection in a shallow puddle. The scabs that had covered the left side of his face are beginning to peel away, revealing glossy red tissue. His lip had been torn completely, uncovering a pearly canine. His left eye is now a cloudy, dull yellow. His nose wrinkles at his reflection, his eyes narrowed into thin slits. His handsome face had been marred.

He's hideous now, isn't he? With a quiet hiss, Gray disrupts the surface of the puddle with his claws, splattering water and sending ripples that distort his awful reflection.

He wishes that he was the one to deliver the killing blow to that damn kittypet. To repay what Char had taken from him tenfold... But at least he'd been able to give a good beating to Char's white-furred groupmate.

Approaching pawsteps snaps his attention away from the puddle, swiveling his head to catch sight of his mother with his good eye. Gray straightens his spine, his ears perking. He smiles, and despises the way that the scar tissue pulls uncomfortably. The smile drops from his face. "Hey," he greets her, his voice weaker than he'd like to admit, repositioning himself away from the puddle so that he could easily look at her.


Though she didn't want to make it obvious, Howling Wind was worried for her son. Ever since the battle, since the blinding of his eye, he'd been so different. It wasn't the Gray she knew, the confident ball of fire she had raised. His flame had been dampened, and that much was obvious as she watched him swat at the puddle before him in disgust. The sight all but wrenched her heart out and she was on her paws in an instant, padding to him. No son of hers would feel ugly, not ever.

"Hi," She purred upon reaching him, moving to rub her cheek affectionately against his good one. She want to hurt his still-fresh wound, after all. "How are you?" Her gaze fell towards the puddle, still rippling from Gray's assault. Ears angling back, she peered back at him, brow furrowed.
Gray allows his mother to rub against his uninjured cheek. He instinctively leans into her comforting touch, although he would deny it aloud. Maybe he should be more grateful that he had no one to grieve; not many cats could say that after the war. He should be grateful that they're out of that wretched swamp. But the negatives seem to push themselves to the forefront of his mind. Azalea had chosen the river over her own family. He's been permanently disfigured. There's a pine cat leading his group.

How are you?

The question taunts him. Gray's tail lashes, a bitter grin pulling at his face. "Aside from being a sight for sore eyes?" The hiss forces it's way through gritted teeth before he had a chance to think them over. It's both a relief and an embarrassment to relieve his chest from his insecurities. With a huff, Gray pulls away from Howling Wind, his sour stare dropping back onto the puddle. Ripples still flicker across it's surface. He breathes out a humorless laugh. "I'll be fine, all things considered." He's alive, and while he may be half-blind now, it's something that he can adjust to. But his face has been ruined, and it's crushing him far more than he'd like to admit.

Her frown returned, creasing her aged maw with displeasure at his hissing response. He was so young; a marring like the one he received would obviously upset him. It was true: his face would never look the same again. Drawing in a breath, the tabby ducked her head slightly to try and snag his gaze as it cast down. "Do you know what I see?" She mewed, peering at him with intent green eyes.

"I see a young tom who protected his family and friends with all of his might. I see a scar that proves that. I see a cat worthy of praise who should be proud to hold his head up high for surviving, and for defending. Most importantly, you're here. You're home, with me." She leaned forward to rasp her tongue across the top of his head. How could she get across how grateful she was just to have him here, scar or not? He would always be the most handsome tom in the world to her! No cat in the forest could possibly surpass any of her children!