- Sep 11, 2022
- 52
- 28
- 18
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From lying restless in a dark nest, to relearning how to walk, to building strength back into these tired legs—the head-rattling injury that the hound gave him seems to have finally let him go, and the very first thing on Clearsight's mind is Gillpaw.
His Gillpaw. His little apprentice, his charge, the sweetest and hardest-working kid Clearsight has ever met—
(The child he left without a mentor; the child he failed by letting his guard down, getting hurt like that.)
He'd been relieved to find out that Cicadastar had given the kid a temporary mentor. He had. The loss stung, yes—knowing all that he must be missing—but he was glad that Gillpaw wouldn't be totally stranded for the weeks (that turned to months) of his recovery.
And even then, Gillpaw still visited him, day after day—even when Clearsight could barely see for the pain in his head, and could hardly provide good company, Gillpaw came. A routine steady as the sunrise, when the day's training had finished. Clearsight would talk as much as he was able, and he'd listen, purr rumbling in his chest, to everything Gillpaw had to say—of his training, his friends, all that he got up to.
And now, healed again at last, Clearsight can finally step back into this role.
He'll seek out the little apprentice just after dawn, the very first day after he's cleared—and upon spotting the kid, call out his name.
"Gillpaw," he says, voice cutting through the morning fog, flaxen-gold gaze fixed fondly on the little black-and-white tom. He pads closer, and warmth fills his voice as he continues, "Ready for some training?"
He'll bend down and aim to touch his nose to Gillpaw's—both an affectionate greeting, and a callback to their first first day as mentor and apprentice.
"I've missed you, kiddo," he says.
& we've all got battle scars ✗
@GILLPAW