- May 19, 2023
- 58
- 11
- 8
Heathermoon truly felt at home underneath the shadows of the tunnel paths. So much of his youth was spent in the dark, of Robinfang telling him one day his ears would reach the ceiling and he would be able to feel the tremors of the moor runners hunting above. The mud-packed walls saw the tabby grow from a stringent kit to a tom dedicated to his Clan. Devout to his stars.
Often as he padded through the tunnel passage he hardly believed he had actually grown so differently than he imagined. As a child he saw himself achieving greatness in his Clan, seeking Sootstar's approval and her recognition and now he was glad to have seen her finally perish a final time. Viciously torn apart like she had done to the moors. He often thought if that made him no better. Her supporters still lingered in lands not so far away, one's he used to think were safe. Friends.
Heathermoon sat within the gorse outside a tunnel to stare out into lands once barren, now shedding yellows and browns for green. Snowmelt slowly receding to reveal life beneath it. He thought of Peonypaw and wondered if his friend still thought of him the same way he did- did he worry if the tunneler was fed? Warm? Alive? He wondered if Peonypaw thought of him at all ever since they chose their loyalties. Did he only feel hate for Heathermoon?
The fur along his pelt bristled as another scent entered the gorse, too thick and tall for him to determine which direction it was coming from. A stuttered breath exhaled from Heathermoon's maw, teeth clacked together as he tried to pull himself into focus. "I'm not alone!" A lie, shouted into the air as he slowly backed toward the tunnel.
Often as he padded through the tunnel passage he hardly believed he had actually grown so differently than he imagined. As a child he saw himself achieving greatness in his Clan, seeking Sootstar's approval and her recognition and now he was glad to have seen her finally perish a final time. Viciously torn apart like she had done to the moors. He often thought if that made him no better. Her supporters still lingered in lands not so far away, one's he used to think were safe. Friends.
Heathermoon sat within the gorse outside a tunnel to stare out into lands once barren, now shedding yellows and browns for green. Snowmelt slowly receding to reveal life beneath it. He thought of Peonypaw and wondered if his friend still thought of him the same way he did- did he worry if the tunneler was fed? Warm? Alive? He wondered if Peonypaw thought of him at all ever since they chose their loyalties. Did he only feel hate for Heathermoon?
The fur along his pelt bristled as another scent entered the gorse, too thick and tall for him to determine which direction it was coming from. A stuttered breath exhaled from Heathermoon's maw, teeth clacked together as he tried to pull himself into focus. "I'm not alone!" A lie, shouted into the air as he slowly backed toward the tunnel.
WINDCLAN TUNNELER ✦ RED MACKEREL TABBY ✦ 16 MOONS ✦ TAGS
