- Mar 30, 2024
- 112
- 22
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*+:｡.｡ "Nightbird"
He speaks with the softness of one who wishes not to be heard, and yet despite the moss in his mouth, it's still unbearably loud in his ears. It feels like a whole other life since their conversation in this very den, talking about a future where Wrath-howl could somehow climb the ranks and earn the respect of his clan enough to deserve the rank of a lead warrior. He feels like that life was shoved into the river alongside...Wrath-howl sighs, dropping the moss onto the ground with a wet squish. He cringes at the association between soaked moss and a drowned leader, but he doesn't let himself hide away from the memory.
The killer knows his place, he promises he does. A part of him almost wants to vocalize it as he passes the wet moss towards Nightbird, ensuring the queen and her kits beat this scorching green-leaf heat - the same merciless color as their new leader's eyes. Perhaps if he tells Nightbird that he understands there's no use in apologies, the woman will somehow find it in herself to forgive him nonetheless? Praise him for his self-awareness, pat him on the head, and tell him that the guilt he feels is punishment enough and it's okay.
He wants so desperately for the lead warrior he'd scorned to tell him it'll be ok.
"It...it'll be okay" he finds himself meowing, almost dizzily as the wires don't quite cross correctly in his thoughts. He pushes onwards anyway, robotically pawing at the nests as he prepares to clean them up- prepares to make his escape in the guise of doing chores - "O-once Skyclaw...." the promise dies a premature death before it can so much as breathe. Once Skyclaw...what? Finds his footing? As if all the cruelties the man has done and put Thunderclan through were but only the clumsy stumbles of a sympathetic gentleman struggling with growing pains in his new rank? That, after Skyclaw somehow "settles" into the role, things will get better? That Antler...that Fallowbite's sisters and the new warriors will grow accustomed to their blasphemous names and find the joy in them as well as the rest of the clan might with the loss of their kitty-pet brethren and the lives lost - taken?!
"Things will get better" he tells the woman he knows wouldn't fall for such a bare-faced lie, unsure if he's foolish enough to actually think she'll believe it or just hopes so badly it'll be true he can't stop repeating it aloud?
True...true...when has anything true ever been clear to Wrath-howl?
"It has to" he digs his claws deep into the mossy nest that smells of milk and kitten down and thinks with a painful twinge about Gentlestorm's prediction. Somehow, in some way, Wrath-howl has to make it better. But aside from weakly clawing at moss and throwing empty reassurances to a woman who would rather see him pushed into a river, he isn't quite sure how.
He speaks with the softness of one who wishes not to be heard, and yet despite the moss in his mouth, it's still unbearably loud in his ears. It feels like a whole other life since their conversation in this very den, talking about a future where Wrath-howl could somehow climb the ranks and earn the respect of his clan enough to deserve the rank of a lead warrior. He feels like that life was shoved into the river alongside...Wrath-howl sighs, dropping the moss onto the ground with a wet squish. He cringes at the association between soaked moss and a drowned leader, but he doesn't let himself hide away from the memory.
The killer knows his place, he promises he does. A part of him almost wants to vocalize it as he passes the wet moss towards Nightbird, ensuring the queen and her kits beat this scorching green-leaf heat - the same merciless color as their new leader's eyes. Perhaps if he tells Nightbird that he understands there's no use in apologies, the woman will somehow find it in herself to forgive him nonetheless? Praise him for his self-awareness, pat him on the head, and tell him that the guilt he feels is punishment enough and it's okay.
He wants so desperately for the lead warrior he'd scorned to tell him it'll be ok.
"It...it'll be okay" he finds himself meowing, almost dizzily as the wires don't quite cross correctly in his thoughts. He pushes onwards anyway, robotically pawing at the nests as he prepares to clean them up- prepares to make his escape in the guise of doing chores - "O-once Skyclaw...." the promise dies a premature death before it can so much as breathe. Once Skyclaw...what? Finds his footing? As if all the cruelties the man has done and put Thunderclan through were but only the clumsy stumbles of a sympathetic gentleman struggling with growing pains in his new rank? That, after Skyclaw somehow "settles" into the role, things will get better? That Antler...that Fallowbite's sisters and the new warriors will grow accustomed to their blasphemous names and find the joy in them as well as the rest of the clan might with the loss of their kitty-pet brethren and the lives lost - taken?!
"Things will get better" he tells the woman he knows wouldn't fall for such a bare-faced lie, unsure if he's foolish enough to actually think she'll believe it or just hopes so badly it'll be true he can't stop repeating it aloud?
True...true...when has anything true ever been clear to Wrath-howl?
"It has to" he digs his claws deep into the mossy nest that smells of milk and kitten down and thinks with a painful twinge about Gentlestorm's prediction. Somehow, in some way, Wrath-howl has to make it better. But aside from weakly clawing at moss and throwing empty reassurances to a woman who would rather see him pushed into a river, he isn't quite sure how.
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//don't let the length fool you I'm so sorry this is also rushed aughhh
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GENERAL:
♡ Wrath-howl
♡ DMAB— He/Him
♡ 10 moons — Ages 1 moon every month real-time
♡ Brother to Lovelight, Joywing, Laughblossom || Pridepaw, Merrypaw
♡ Thunderclan — apprentice
♡ Mentored by Wildheart
COMBAT:
♡Physically mediocre | mentally very easy
♡ Attack in bold #4a59ff
injuries: None currently , mentally unwell
"SPEECH"
