- Jun 10, 2022
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What little could bloom in winter he held between grin-dressed fangs. Ianthine petals, stark in purple permanence against the ice-cap flash of his fur. All that differentiated him from the snow and overcast sky above was the tar hue of his paws, skipping fervently forward, set upon a path. Often empty in intention but there nonetheless, his smile seemed sharper today. Kept there, but not comfortably- as if it was an ache to keep his grin the way it was. If it faltered he would fail his purpose, let break his vow of endless mood- he was determined to keep himself this way, and such a thing was perhaps readable.
Day by day, the ague of parting grew more tiresome and seemed more pointless. The moors had always been his home, the grounds dwelled upon by his family and no-one else. When they had joined it seemed a simple compromise in keeping the moors as their family home- as theirs. Aunt Pollen was gone now, alongside Aunt Ember- where he could not tell. If they were even alive- well, for once death was not something he thought it amusing to think about. With no way to reach them, he had retired to another grave- one that had lay upon this moor for moons before WindClan had even been a spark in the flame of Sootstar's mind.
It brought the light back to his eyes- the smallest spark that made his deadened grin seem a little more alive. "I still miss you," he murmured, placing the flowers upon the spot. "But it's getting easier." The words reached more than the bone beneath the ground, but were meant mostly for them alone.
Day by day, the ague of parting grew more tiresome and seemed more pointless. The moors had always been his home, the grounds dwelled upon by his family and no-one else. When they had joined it seemed a simple compromise in keeping the moors as their family home- as theirs. Aunt Pollen was gone now, alongside Aunt Ember- where he could not tell. If they were even alive- well, for once death was not something he thought it amusing to think about. With no way to reach them, he had retired to another grave- one that had lay upon this moor for moons before WindClan had even been a spark in the flame of Sootstar's mind.
It brought the light back to his eyes- the smallest spark that made his deadened grin seem a little more alive. "I still miss you," he murmured, placing the flowers upon the spot. "But it's getting easier." The words reached more than the bone beneath the ground, but were meant mostly for them alone.
☺PENNED BY PIN
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