- Oct 17, 2022
- 485
- 85
- 28
MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————
The frigid water flows easily today, undisturbed by wind or rain. Its smooth surface reflects the grey sky in an imperfect mirror, ripples from the current twisting the clouds and offering glimpses of sand and pebbles at the whim of the river. Snakeblink’s reflection, when he bends over the river, is as imperfect, as easily hidden and revealed in turns. It’s clear enough to make out his features though: the long, thin face, the traits that settle more easily into a sneer than a smile, the faintly superior turn of an eye with its thin pupil, the dismissive curve of his ears. He can more easily see what others read in his face then, staring at himself from an outsider’s perspective.
His eyes drag up the unfamiliar-familiar expression of his own muzzle to his eyes, holding contact for a moment before drifting to the scar that runs across the right side of his face.
His habit of accidentally insulting others and getting hit for his trouble is hardly new, and this is the most blatant proof of it to date; cats in the past were not as forgiving as Cindershade, and this one did not bother to sheathe their claw before slapping him in the face for unfortunate words he could not possibly hope to remember today. The only damage was aesthetic, for what little there was to damage there, and to his ego he supposes; clearly he learned nothing from the incident, seeing as he went and repeated this mistake many times past the point the wound had healed into the scar which got him his name.
It’s strange; eyes are fragile things, as the many one-eyed cats in the clan can attest. Smokethroat, Lilybloom, Ferngill… One bad blow can be the difference between perfect vision and the loss of a significant part of one’s field of view. Beyond eyes, injuries are commonplace in their lives, and it’s a lucky or cowardly cat who reaches his age with all his features intact. Lichentail has their torn ear; Crashingtide his shorn tail-strip.
Snakeblink has… nothing. One thin scar across the eye and a more painful patch of scar tissue on his shoulder, courtesy of Flycatcher and Flamewhisker. Not so cowardly that he is entirely unmarked — yet not brave enough to have sacrificed any of himself to the enemy for the sake of his clanmates. Not anything physical, at least. He must be lucky then, though he doesn’t really feel like it. Is it strange, to others, that so many great warriors have lost an eye and he has managed to make it out with only marks so far?
A yellowing leave drifts down to the water, briefly disturbing his reflection before it's swept downstream. Slowly, Snakeblink lifts a paw to his face and covers his scarred eye with it. Though he’s hardly a vain one, he gazes down at his reflection with a slight frown etched on his features and wonders under his breath: ”Would I look better like this? It would not seem so out of place, I suppose…”
His eyes drag up the unfamiliar-familiar expression of his own muzzle to his eyes, holding contact for a moment before drifting to the scar that runs across the right side of his face.
His habit of accidentally insulting others and getting hit for his trouble is hardly new, and this is the most blatant proof of it to date; cats in the past were not as forgiving as Cindershade, and this one did not bother to sheathe their claw before slapping him in the face for unfortunate words he could not possibly hope to remember today. The only damage was aesthetic, for what little there was to damage there, and to his ego he supposes; clearly he learned nothing from the incident, seeing as he went and repeated this mistake many times past the point the wound had healed into the scar which got him his name.
It’s strange; eyes are fragile things, as the many one-eyed cats in the clan can attest. Smokethroat, Lilybloom, Ferngill… One bad blow can be the difference between perfect vision and the loss of a significant part of one’s field of view. Beyond eyes, injuries are commonplace in their lives, and it’s a lucky or cowardly cat who reaches his age with all his features intact. Lichentail has their torn ear; Crashingtide his shorn tail-strip.
Snakeblink has… nothing. One thin scar across the eye and a more painful patch of scar tissue on his shoulder, courtesy of Flycatcher and Flamewhisker. Not so cowardly that he is entirely unmarked — yet not brave enough to have sacrificed any of himself to the enemy for the sake of his clanmates. Not anything physical, at least. He must be lucky then, though he doesn’t really feel like it. Is it strange, to others, that so many great warriors have lost an eye and he has managed to make it out with only marks so far?
A yellowing leave drifts down to the water, briefly disturbing his reflection before it's swept downstream. Slowly, Snakeblink lifts a paw to his face and covers his scarred eye with it. Though he’s hardly a vain one, he gazes down at his reflection with a slight frown etched on his features and wonders under his breath: ”Would I look better like this? It would not seem so out of place, I suppose…”
——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely
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— Snakeblink • he / him. 46 ☾, riverclan warrior
— a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
— gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
