- Aug 10, 2022
- 702
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Iciclefang had been ushered away from her kits after the battle — and though initially, she'd harbored anger toward Moonbeam for intervening, she knew it had been for the best. Pinepaw had been in critical condition, and her anger had been as raw and bloody as her wound. She had left camp, given things time to settle, knowing the buzz would thicken, knowing Lichenstar would have heard the news in her time away.
But she feared her children's reactions, in truth, more than she did her leader's. Lichenstar held her fate directly in her claws, and if she wanted, the lynx point could crush everything Iciclefang knew into dust... but it's not her she'd gone to first. It had been Pinepaw, her face slick with marigold in the medicine cat's den; it had been Cragpaw, his fur bristling by the river; Crabpaw, his eyes dark with unreachable pain.
She runs from all three of them now. Her legs wobble as she struggles to hold herself together. The reeds behind her stir, and she whirls, preparing herself for a verbal assault, for a pair of glaring eyes, but she finds only one sad green one. "Ferngill?" The tortoiseshell stiffens, her tail stilling behind her. He had come from the general direction of camp — he must have seen her leave, her fur ruffled, her blue eyes glazed with pain.
Iciclefang does not go to her brother. All of her effort, everything she has, is spent holding herself together. "They... they hate me," she whispers. Her voice strains, threatening to crack like shattering ice. She lowers her face, unable to see the sorrow in Ferngill's single-eyed gaze.
"Pinepaw wants me gone." She unsheathes her claws as though she's fighting an unseen enemy, one she cannot defeat with brute strength, with slick cunning. Her throat constricts as she continues: "Cragpaw is angry. So, so angry. Crabpaw asked me if I hated him... for not being a real RiverClanner."
And she begins to shake, as if the effort of preserving herself is more than her body can bare. She trains her wavering gaze on her forepaws, her breath catching in her throat. "They... they hate me, Ferngill. I've lost them." And on that final word, her voice breaks.
But she feared her children's reactions, in truth, more than she did her leader's. Lichenstar held her fate directly in her claws, and if she wanted, the lynx point could crush everything Iciclefang knew into dust... but it's not her she'd gone to first. It had been Pinepaw, her face slick with marigold in the medicine cat's den; it had been Cragpaw, his fur bristling by the river; Crabpaw, his eyes dark with unreachable pain.
She runs from all three of them now. Her legs wobble as she struggles to hold herself together. The reeds behind her stir, and she whirls, preparing herself for a verbal assault, for a pair of glaring eyes, but she finds only one sad green one. "Ferngill?" The tortoiseshell stiffens, her tail stilling behind her. He had come from the general direction of camp — he must have seen her leave, her fur ruffled, her blue eyes glazed with pain.
Iciclefang does not go to her brother. All of her effort, everything she has, is spent holding herself together. "They... they hate me," she whispers. Her voice strains, threatening to crack like shattering ice. She lowers her face, unable to see the sorrow in Ferngill's single-eyed gaze.
"Pinepaw wants me gone." She unsheathes her claws as though she's fighting an unseen enemy, one she cannot defeat with brute strength, with slick cunning. Her throat constricts as she continues: "Cragpaw is angry. So, so angry. Crabpaw asked me if I hated him... for not being a real RiverClanner."
And she begins to shake, as if the effort of preserving herself is more than her body can bare. She trains her wavering gaze on her forepaws, her breath catching in her throat. "They... they hate me, Ferngill. I've lost them." And on that final word, her voice breaks.
- ooc: @FERNGILL
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Iciclekit.Iciclepaw. Iciclefang, she/her w/ feminine terms.
— “speech”, thoughts, attack
— 29 moons old, ages realistically on the 17th.
— mentored by Smokestar ; mentoring Pinepaw ; previously mentored Cicadaflight
— riverclan lead warrior.mudpeltx icesparkle, gen 2.
— former mate to Stormywing ; current mate to no one.
— penned by Marquette.
sh tortoiseshell and white she-cat with ice-blue eyes. confident, capable, proud, dry, conceited, condescending, distrustful.