sensitive topics HER VIRTUES TURN TO PITCH \ fallen fledgling

[THUNDERGLEAM]

\ tw for prey animal gore! (@STORMYWING mentor tag)

Hunting patrols were among the most fulfilling of ThunderClan's tasks- doing her bit for the delightful kittens that wound between the legs of warriors bustling in camp, for every Thunderclanner. Though she knew not how to accomplish her destiny of cleansing ThunderClan of all pain, she could be a wonderful warrior. She could alleviate suffering in the meantime. Who knew- perhaps that was the way it was supposed to happen! Stormywing and Howlingstar both had not yet deemed her ready to be a true warrior , enough that she could go to Gatherings or go on patrols without her pseudo-mentor, but she was assimilating... and surely, her truest future would be shown to her in time. Once she had proven herself worthy to the Stars, they would show her the Truth...

Pity flooded rosy eyes at a pitchy twittering... on the mucky mesh of oak leaves, mostly-decomposed beneath snowmelt, a fledgling lay twitching. Only just learning to fly, it had crashed to the ground, and now convulsed in a gut wrenching display of pain. Suffering was the worst thing on this earth, and misery surely wracked the frail little body of this poor bird. "What a pity," she murmured, shaking her head very softly as she padded over to the poor, poor thing. It did not deserve to be in pain anymore... A quick death would do it good. Thundergleam had done it before... to bite the throat as one would a fully-grown bird was too fiddly, and risked missing the kill and extending the pain.

The bird peeped as she clasped her jaw around it, and in one easy motion she ripped its head from its body. Gently, Thundergleam began to bury the head beneath the earth, leaving the body to be returned to camp. "Thank you StarClan for this prey," she murmured, vindication weaving birdsong through her blood. ​

penned by pin ☾​

 

[STORMYWING]

Stormywing pushes her way through the ferns with a vole clutched in her jaws, scanning the undergrowth for either of her apprentices. Her ears twitch as the strained, quiet chirping of fallen prey catches her attention, and when she follows the sound she arrives at Thundergleam's side. A frown cuts an ugly line on her muzzle as she stares down at the writhing creature. "What a waste," She murmurs as her charge delivers a swift - and albeit, gruesome - death. "Would have filled more bellies if it had grown up." But some prey is better than none, and at least it won't be crowfood.

She watches as Thundergleam buries the part of the bird that is too bony to even eat and sends her prayer up to StarClan. She has learned the Warrior Code pretty well, it seems. The tabby has noticed that prayer never fails to leave the ivory she-cat's lips on every single hunt they've been on. She follows the damn thing more closely than Stormywing does! Obviously...She reminds herself, tortoiseshell fur gracing her memory before it is quickly, painfully shut out.

// @FALLOWPAW ​

 

[ROSETHORN]

"It's not their fault," she huffs. Perhaps it is unwise to be cross with Stormywing, but her words are cruel. Selfish. It was not the birds job to grow old and feed their bellies. Blue eyes remain on the small mound where Thundergleam had buried the little thing. She thinks of the kits back at camp. She bore no animosity towards them, even though the kitten boom within their clan has taken it's toll. What lingers on her mind are the kittens that didn't survive. Those who either died before becoming an apprentice, or those who entered this world unmoving. Would Stormywing think they're a waste too? The answer is a resounding no, but she can't help but link this little bird to those who had their futures cut short. Had those kits grown up into warriors they could've fed more bellies. The sudden spike in kits would be more manageable. They wouldn't have to resort to theft in order to fed their young.

Raccoonstripe... He is the leader's son. She understands why he did it, but rage still persists. What's done is done, but what really is a waste? A white paw touches the mound. "You did your best, now rest peacefully." Maybe Stormywing and the other's on patrol would find her strange, but she can't help it. Feeling pity for a bird of all things. In any case she would scurry off in search of more prey to bring back to camp.​

 

[Yewflame!]

So let's pretend we like each other​

---

Steel blue gaze glittered from the forms of the outsider-Thundergleam who pitied prey, even saying her prayers to Starclan, thanking them, while Stormywing commented on how it would have been better if it had been a grown bird, which was true. Plumed tail flicked as she came to view keeping a gaze on the newcomer while Rosethorn also seemed to pity the creature, which earned a roll of his gaze. "It's just a bird, we hunt them all the time. It'll feed our young, and that's all that matters" he stated coldly, finding no pity for the prey that Starclan gave them. They should take what they get and put, perhaps though Yewflame's heart was too stone cold to feel sympathy for something they eat.

"Rosethorn, deary... A bird who cannot fly is its fault, that's part of nature" words came out smoothly while she hummed and began to continue moving forward a bit, not giving a glance towards the tiny creature that now laid dead at the paws of Thundergleam. Freshkill was freshkill, and she was sure some kit would enjoy it no matter where it came from, no matter how small it was. Besides, there was no room to complain over anything. "Besides! An easy catch is a win! With how much kits we need to feed" he reminded the others. Thats what it meant to be a warrior, right? Care for their young, fend for their clan? Make those sacrifices? Not sympathize over a pitiful baby bird who failed to do the one thing it was supposed to be good at.​

"speak""Thoughts"​

(IC Opinions!!)

 

[THUNDERGLEAM]

A waste. Thundergleam nodded sadly, gazing upon the beheaded body with a misty sadness. "At least it suffers no more," she murmured, sorrow inher voice. Prey had its purpose, of course, but the wonderful thing about the methods of the Clans was that prey was never tortured- it had purpose in death as well as life, and every piece was valued. Rosethorn murmured it's not their fault, and Thundergleam briefly fixed the warrior with a confused expression. "Of course it was not at fault. The earth that StarClan guards is a cruel, fickle thing sometimes..."

A sigh, reverie-filled, wove silken from her maw. Pink eyes fluttered closed briefly, and she swore behind the skin of pale eyelids the could see the little spirit-spark of that fledgling, flittering up to the stars to become a streaking comet in StarClan's hunting grounds.

Yewflame seemed to believe the bird was at fault, however... how he might have come to that opinion was lost on Thundergleam, but she had to remind herself that not every ThunderClan warrior had the privilege of knowing StarClan as closely as she did. "It will not feed many, unfortunately..." A pale paw swiped the remainder of the dust over the little mound where a gasping head was buried. "But it is better than nought." ​

penned by pin ☾​