- May 31, 2023
- 205
- 63
- 28
She is a silhouette at the mouth of the medicine den. Twin flame hues burn through her shadow; bore holes in the shadow of her mentor, laid in his nest, neck fur still lightly crusted in pitch-dark blood. Does he spurn Wolfsong's care? He is down a limb; a son; one and then three lives; she can imagine this series of loss weighs thick upon his shoulders. Woolen blankets of grief pile higher and higher, suffocating. He used to be so... young. He is young still, but the sunlit aura of youth had left him when he'd returned from the moonstone, she thinks. He tells no stories of his homeland; he does not kiss his mate any longer. He is a cat who suffers. Scorchstorm wishes things could be different.
She ducks into the sandy cavern, touches her nose to his ear to let him know she is present. If he had known it before, he had not shown it. "Sunstar," she greets, voice hoarse in its quietude. She pulls back, assessing his face in full, her own burnished with weary concern. "You look awful." Obviously. She offers a slight, good-natured smile, more a twitch at the lips than a real grin. "How do you feel? I miss you, you know." And she does. She misses walking the moors with him, before that gluttonous fire had eaten their grasses and their prey, before even yellowcough had plagued them — should she'd been Badgermoon's apprentice, then. It feels like years have gone by since then.
Scorchstorm seats herself, tucking her limbs beneath her broad shoulders. "Let me keep you company."
/ @SUNSTAR
She ducks into the sandy cavern, touches her nose to his ear to let him know she is present. If he had known it before, he had not shown it. "Sunstar," she greets, voice hoarse in its quietude. She pulls back, assessing his face in full, her own burnished with weary concern. "You look awful." Obviously. She offers a slight, good-natured smile, more a twitch at the lips than a real grin. "How do you feel? I miss you, you know." And she does. She misses walking the moors with him, before that gluttonous fire had eaten their grasses and their prey, before even yellowcough had plagued them — should she'd been Badgermoon's apprentice, then. It feels like years have gone by since then.
Scorchstorm seats herself, tucking her limbs beneath her broad shoulders. "Let me keep you company."
/ @SUNSTAR
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—scorchkit.scorchpaw. scorchstorm
— she/they ; warrior of windclan
— short-haired tortoiseshell she-cat with low white and orange/yellow eyes
— "speech" ; thoughts
— signature by dreamydoggo, template art by sixbane
— penned by meghan
