SUNNVAR
PATRON SAINT OF ONE WAY TRIPS
He does not take it back. The cowardice, the rage– like his namesake, the tom lies in the grass. He makes himself small in his anger, his fear, for he knows that even in this weakness, he was no match for Sunstar. Not for the clan that follows him. "I have known for many moons that you were to be gutless vermin. I had thought that with Sootstar gone, you could learn. But no, you have forsaken your clan, and you dishonor StarClan with your own greed!" Bitter words spit like flames from across his burned tongue; he allows his body half of a hunter's crouch, the lowered tension in a coil, yet his rage wobbles slightly. The grief on his tongue at Wolfsong's name — the clan could not know what was said in the solace of what had been his home, but his faith in the golden tom now tastes of ash.
Blood and bile wind him higher; he comes back from his brief imbalance with a voice even louder than before. "You stand before your clanmates who have fought for WindClan once already! Who have stood before a leader and known when they had gone too far. You think so poorly of them that they would not do so again? The moment that truth calls for it?" StarClan had not deemed it as such. He recalls the lightning strike at the gathering. The scent of ozone, the rippling of the clouds. They had done so with intention. Had they any desire to end this clan. . . they would not have missed. Was this the truth? Or a final defense against whatever truth Snakehiss dares to spout? It is good that few seem to side with the ink-toned tom. Addervenom, whose loyalty he had questioned since Sootstar's demise, stands against him. Firefang, who had likewise been late to turn her shoulder against the ashen molly, does the same.
Bluefrost is the only question among them, and that is where his eyes settle. Upon the face of her mother, and the mellowed venom of her contemplation.
A shifting of his weight, as if carrying his paw towards her direction. To approach her, and spit his anger where she too might feel it. But his leg and his anger both betray him. To Snakehiss, he instead spits, "You think this place your home? Then stand by it. You will not take my lives, you will not trust in your clanmates. You speak as a blind fool, a pathetic worm in the face of all that matters! I know my strength; I know my place here. I know my destiny, and you will not fetter it!" Brief, heaving breaths, where he towers like a mountain.
The warrior steps closer still, his head and voice both dangerously lowered. A charging bull or a raging stag, his fangs are deadly enough to replace whatever points his skull does not wear. Perhaps if he hit with enough force, enough precision, he could split Snakehiss in half regardless. Knock his heart from between his ribs to stain the grass like this fire had. "You say that you will not stand to witness it. Don't. Leave, while you've still the chance to do so on all four of your limbs. You dare to speak my son's name as I mourn him, to blame StarClan for his death. You think they would punish him for my failures? Then tell me, Snakehiss, why you have not suffered the same. Why you have not died for the cruelty of your father, or Sootspot, Addervenom, Bluefrost, Cottonpaw– why they too have not suffered for theirs."
"Take your faithless tongue and leave of your own accord. Ask your kits if they dare to follow you. Or do you admit that they will not survive without the cats you distrust?"
Blood and bile wind him higher; he comes back from his brief imbalance with a voice even louder than before. "You stand before your clanmates who have fought for WindClan once already! Who have stood before a leader and known when they had gone too far. You think so poorly of them that they would not do so again? The moment that truth calls for it?" StarClan had not deemed it as such. He recalls the lightning strike at the gathering. The scent of ozone, the rippling of the clouds. They had done so with intention. Had they any desire to end this clan. . . they would not have missed. Was this the truth? Or a final defense against whatever truth Snakehiss dares to spout? It is good that few seem to side with the ink-toned tom. Addervenom, whose loyalty he had questioned since Sootstar's demise, stands against him. Firefang, who had likewise been late to turn her shoulder against the ashen molly, does the same.
Bluefrost is the only question among them, and that is where his eyes settle. Upon the face of her mother, and the mellowed venom of her contemplation.
A shifting of his weight, as if carrying his paw towards her direction. To approach her, and spit his anger where she too might feel it. But his leg and his anger both betray him. To Snakehiss, he instead spits, "You think this place your home? Then stand by it. You will not take my lives, you will not trust in your clanmates. You speak as a blind fool, a pathetic worm in the face of all that matters! I know my strength; I know my place here. I know my destiny, and you will not fetter it!" Brief, heaving breaths, where he towers like a mountain.
The warrior steps closer still, his head and voice both dangerously lowered. A charging bull or a raging stag, his fangs are deadly enough to replace whatever points his skull does not wear. Perhaps if he hit with enough force, enough precision, he could split Snakehiss in half regardless. Knock his heart from between his ribs to stain the grass like this fire had. "You say that you will not stand to witness it. Don't. Leave, while you've still the chance to do so on all four of your limbs. You dare to speak my son's name as I mourn him, to blame StarClan for his death. You think they would punish him for my failures? Then tell me, Snakehiss, why you have not suffered the same. Why you have not died for the cruelty of your father, or Sootspot, Addervenom, Bluefrost, Cottonpaw– why they too have not suffered for theirs."
"Take your faithless tongue and leave of your own accord. Ask your kits if they dare to follow you. Or do you admit that they will not survive without the cats you distrust?"
- OOC. —
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NPC,. MATE TO WOLFSONG; FATHER TO ONE LITTER WITH HIM. MENTORING RIVEPAW.
TH ╱╱ A LARGE, SCARRED CHOCOLATE AND WHITE ROSETTE TABBY TOM WITH SEAGLASS EYES -
"speech"