- Jan 15, 2023
- 567
- 142
- 43
༄༄ Months. It has been months since she’s seen either of the toms she’d once been so close with. Badgermoon’s loss had hurt, of course—she’d had a litter of kits with him, and she was left to raise them on her own—but the loss of Curlewnose was even worse. After Tigerfrost’s death, she had sought solace in the other tunneler throughout the rest of her pregnancy, and he had quickly grown to be her dearest friend. Now, she is unsure who holds that title. It feels a bit pitiful to call Rattleheart her closest friend—her black and white sibling couldn’t escape her even if they tried. But at the same time, calling Bluepool a friend feels wrong, and she’ll leave it at that.
Perhaps she doesn’t have a best friend any longer. Perhaps when Curlewnose went missing, so did the part of Scorchstreak that was capable of holding another close and feeling the deepest possible connection of friendship. Or perhaps she had been clinging to the hope that her best friend would reppesr someday, guided back to WindClan by some force greater than fate.
Ah, but what a fool she’d be to accept him back into her life so easily. Even if it hadn’t been his intention, confronting Sootstar—and subsequently being chased out—had still been Curlewnose’s choice. The blame still lies upon those thin shoulders, no matter what reasoning her friend had. But still, something in her demands that she speak to him, and so the calico finds herself at the entrance to Wolfsong’s den. Neither Wolfsong nor Cottonpaw are anywhere to be seen, and so the lead warrior steps inside, glancing around for her intended target before setting down a particularly plump mouse before his paws.
"Curlewnose," she greets the tom at last, though her words are curt. She still does not know what to think of him, but she will allow him to prove himself to her. "You look terrible. I suppose leaving us behind did you no favors." Her words are fanged, aimed for a vulnerable throat. But even as she dribbles her venom at him, a dark paw shoves the prey closer to the tom. A peace offering, of sorts. A chance to explain.
// @curlewnose
Perhaps she doesn’t have a best friend any longer. Perhaps when Curlewnose went missing, so did the part of Scorchstreak that was capable of holding another close and feeling the deepest possible connection of friendship. Or perhaps she had been clinging to the hope that her best friend would reppesr someday, guided back to WindClan by some force greater than fate.
Ah, but what a fool she’d be to accept him back into her life so easily. Even if it hadn’t been his intention, confronting Sootstar—and subsequently being chased out—had still been Curlewnose’s choice. The blame still lies upon those thin shoulders, no matter what reasoning her friend had. But still, something in her demands that she speak to him, and so the calico finds herself at the entrance to Wolfsong’s den. Neither Wolfsong nor Cottonpaw are anywhere to be seen, and so the lead warrior steps inside, glancing around for her intended target before setting down a particularly plump mouse before his paws.
"Curlewnose," she greets the tom at last, though her words are curt. She still does not know what to think of him, but she will allow him to prove himself to her. "You look terrible. I suppose leaving us behind did you no favors." Her words are fanged, aimed for a vulnerable throat. But even as she dribbles her venom at him, a dark paw shoves the prey closer to the tom. A peace offering, of sorts. A chance to explain.
// @curlewnose