- Nov 14, 2022
- 260
- 54
- 28
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Comfreypaw’s body looks cold on the snow. It was a ridiculous thought to have while gazing down at the chocolate and rosette dappled tabby upon the ground before him, but it was the first thing that bubbled up into his mind. She looked cold, she deserved to be in her nest - to be warm and curled among her fellow apprentices but she was now as cold as the frost itself; a shiver like the ice that clings to every surface around them. Comfreypaw would never be cold again, even if she looked as if all she needed was a warm body curled about her to guard her from the elements. Magpiepaw feels tired, he almost wishes to do so, to settle himself down alongside the fallen apprentice and close his eyes - to let the cold seep into him as well, let him freeze inside, let him lose the heat that keeps his blood pumping, his veins alive; maybe he thinks about death more than he should, or maybe ShadowClan reeks of it at the best of times. Another apprentice, another clanmate. Things had not gotten better since Granitepelt and Siltcloud were exiled, somehow it had gotten worse and he isn’t sure what to make of it. Logically he knows it was a necessity to remove such parasites, but a tick you know the placement of in your pelt was easier to pluck than the one you tossed into your nest; waiting to crawl back upon you and bite.
We should have killed them. He thinks bitterly, cursing the kindness of their leader but latching onto it as well in desperate confusion. The medicine cat apprentice should not be wishing death, he was trained to keep cats alive - to consider otherwise was unbecoming.
He shakes his head with a sigh so quiet it might as well have not been uttered, “...it was one of the first things I learned. Comfrey. A flower I once thought just a pretty purple bloom, but discovered it had much more to it than what I saw at a glance. On the journey I used it to keep cats alive, soothe the ache of wounds and the itch of scarring flesh. It also calms the sear of a burn, kisses a coolness onto angry red and stifles its snarling.” The black and white tom tilts his head back to his thick white mane, withdrawing the single dried and pressed comfrey flower that was left of his own personal collection; too dead to be of medicinal use, but too beautiful to simply discard. He sets it down gently over the cobweb bound tabby, a burst of color on a patched and dark pelt riddled in wounds that had long since stopped bleeding, that he had tried to clean into some degree of presentable.
“...goodbye Comfreypaw, may your path to StarClan be one of peace and ease. Know that you’ll be missed, know that we will ensure your fate does not befall another.”
Comfreypaw’s body looks cold on the snow. It was a ridiculous thought to have while gazing down at the chocolate and rosette dappled tabby upon the ground before him, but it was the first thing that bubbled up into his mind. She looked cold, she deserved to be in her nest - to be warm and curled among her fellow apprentices but she was now as cold as the frost itself; a shiver like the ice that clings to every surface around them. Comfreypaw would never be cold again, even if she looked as if all she needed was a warm body curled about her to guard her from the elements. Magpiepaw feels tired, he almost wishes to do so, to settle himself down alongside the fallen apprentice and close his eyes - to let the cold seep into him as well, let him freeze inside, let him lose the heat that keeps his blood pumping, his veins alive; maybe he thinks about death more than he should, or maybe ShadowClan reeks of it at the best of times. Another apprentice, another clanmate. Things had not gotten better since Granitepelt and Siltcloud were exiled, somehow it had gotten worse and he isn’t sure what to make of it. Logically he knows it was a necessity to remove such parasites, but a tick you know the placement of in your pelt was easier to pluck than the one you tossed into your nest; waiting to crawl back upon you and bite.
We should have killed them. He thinks bitterly, cursing the kindness of their leader but latching onto it as well in desperate confusion. The medicine cat apprentice should not be wishing death, he was trained to keep cats alive - to consider otherwise was unbecoming.
He shakes his head with a sigh so quiet it might as well have not been uttered, “...it was one of the first things I learned. Comfrey. A flower I once thought just a pretty purple bloom, but discovered it had much more to it than what I saw at a glance. On the journey I used it to keep cats alive, soothe the ache of wounds and the itch of scarring flesh. It also calms the sear of a burn, kisses a coolness onto angry red and stifles its snarling.” The black and white tom tilts his head back to his thick white mane, withdrawing the single dried and pressed comfrey flower that was left of his own personal collection; too dead to be of medicinal use, but too beautiful to simply discard. He sets it down gently over the cobweb bound tabby, a burst of color on a patched and dark pelt riddled in wounds that had long since stopped bleeding, that he had tried to clean into some degree of presentable.
“...goodbye Comfreypaw, may your path to StarClan be one of peace and ease. Know that you’ll be missed, know that we will ensure your fate does not befall another.”
- PAFP- @betonyfrost
-
Magpiepaw
—⊰⋅ MCA of ShadowClan
—⊰⋅ He/They
"SPEECH", 'THOUGHTS', ATTACK
—⊰⋅ Black tom w/a white throat and blue-violet eyes.
—⊰⋅ Has mild cerebellar hypoplasia (Wobbly cat syndrome)
