- May 17, 2023
- 328
- 120
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Cherryblossom thinks she sees her fur growing back: thin, scraggly underhairs peeking out from beneath the edges of hardened scabs, the lingering smell of poultice making her eyes water when she twists over to examine it. It's a delightful surprise, like the first shoots of Newleaf grass poking out beneath the white melt. She expected the wound to never fully heal, like the eagle scars down her sides or the rogue's bite on her foreleg, but the fox hadn't taken from her like it'd taken from her mother. Or Twitchbolt.
Regardless, Fireflypaw saw the time fit to release her from his black-pawed clutches, and she's enjoying her freedom as much as the freedom allows. The leads issuing patrols in Twitchbolt's stead haven't been particularly keen on giving her their more ardurous tasks. Her long white legs, even the injured one, itch for the burn of exertion.
The threads of gossip, tangled around each cat and twisted into the camp walls, cocoon her still. Thanks to an innocent query made in earshot of the hazel bush, or an offhand comment by a passing clanmate, Cherryblossom knows one among them is not where she should be. Not to the standards of a warrior, surely, with what minimal training the life of a loner had afforded before she found SkyClan.
She approaches the patch-furred molly with a high tail and a silky smile. "Hey, Sorrelsong," she greets. "I heard you wanted help with...hmmm...battle training? It's good that you're asking; you could definitely use some more." The warrior tilts her head. Gilded eyes darken a touch. "Oh, don't make a face—we could all use some more." Cherryblossom leaves the thought trailing, waiting for her impromptu conversational partner to latch onto it. The foxes. Orangestar's life.
@Sorrelsong
Regardless, Fireflypaw saw the time fit to release her from his black-pawed clutches, and she's enjoying her freedom as much as the freedom allows. The leads issuing patrols in Twitchbolt's stead haven't been particularly keen on giving her their more ardurous tasks. Her long white legs, even the injured one, itch for the burn of exertion.
The threads of gossip, tangled around each cat and twisted into the camp walls, cocoon her still. Thanks to an innocent query made in earshot of the hazel bush, or an offhand comment by a passing clanmate, Cherryblossom knows one among them is not where she should be. Not to the standards of a warrior, surely, with what minimal training the life of a loner had afforded before she found SkyClan.
She approaches the patch-furred molly with a high tail and a silky smile. "Hey, Sorrelsong," she greets. "I heard you wanted help with...hmmm...battle training? It's good that you're asking; you could definitely use some more." The warrior tilts her head. Gilded eyes darken a touch. "Oh, don't make a face—we could all use some more." Cherryblossom leaves the thought trailing, waiting for her impromptu conversational partner to latch onto it. The foxes. Orangestar's life.
@Sorrelsong
skyclan warrior | "speech." | tags