- Feb 18, 2023
- 379
- 54
- 28
anger makes you stupid . stupid gets you killed .
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
His obsidian fur rippled with unease, not thrilled to be stuck in pitch black with cats he barely knew, but did any of them have a choice? No. Unless they wanted to wander the rocky passageways alone. He couldn’t help the sense of déjà vu that encompassed his heart, rattling like hummingbird wings, torn ear lying flat against a scarred helm.
He hated the feeling of metal bars digging into his hide, nothing more than a malnourished kid listening to the haunting shrieks of cats and dogs alike, haunting his memory like sticky sap. He breathed shakily, letting others slip past him, barely feeling the brush of fur against his own, realization settling heavily on tired shoulders. He wouldn’t fit.
The realization was bittersweet, but he didn’t panic. He breathed, stepping back until he bumped against the chilly stone. It would be a waste of time. He hummed, rattling his chest in favor of ignoring the hunger that gnawed at his stomach.
He’d come to terms with death a long time ago before he stepped paw in SkyClan the first time. Now more than ever. His shoulder throbbed in a painful reminder, pulling the older warrior from his thoughts. Right. He shifted, letting out a grunt, pulling his weight off of his throbbing leg to pad forward, whiskers quivering. He’d barely get through, not without screwin’ up his shoulder. Sorry, kiddo. His wooly tail curled, expression conflict. To be trapped with no sense of direction was one hell of a way to die, but it’d be deserving for someone like him with a heart as blackened as his. He was an old fool with far too many ghosts and not a lick of redemption in sight.
He couldn’t help but think of his kids, left in camp with no real knowin’ what might happen left his heart in disarray. He loved them, maybe more than he loved himself, but they’d be just fine without him, maybe better if he could help it. “Better you all get goin’ don’t need to be waitin’ on me.” He rumbled.
He hated the feeling of metal bars digging into his hide, nothing more than a malnourished kid listening to the haunting shrieks of cats and dogs alike, haunting his memory like sticky sap. He breathed shakily, letting others slip past him, barely feeling the brush of fur against his own, realization settling heavily on tired shoulders. He wouldn’t fit.
The realization was bittersweet, but he didn’t panic. He breathed, stepping back until he bumped against the chilly stone. It would be a waste of time. He hummed, rattling his chest in favor of ignoring the hunger that gnawed at his stomach.
He’d come to terms with death a long time ago before he stepped paw in SkyClan the first time. Now more than ever. His shoulder throbbed in a painful reminder, pulling the older warrior from his thoughts. Right. He shifted, letting out a grunt, pulling his weight off of his throbbing leg to pad forward, whiskers quivering. He’d barely get through, not without screwin’ up his shoulder. Sorry, kiddo. His wooly tail curled, expression conflict. To be trapped with no sense of direction was one hell of a way to die, but it’d be deserving for someone like him with a heart as blackened as his. He was an old fool with far too many ghosts and not a lick of redemption in sight.
He couldn’t help but think of his kids, left in camp with no real knowin’ what might happen left his heart in disarray. He loved them, maybe more than he loved himself, but they’d be just fine without him, maybe better if he could help it. “Better you all get goin’ don’t need to be waitin’ on me.” He rumbled.
thought speech