- Oct 17, 2022
- 489
- 85
- 28
MAYBE I'D BE A SAINT IF I WEREN'T ————————————
A clan is like a family in that even while every cat depends on the rest for food, shelter, protection, and companionship, they have very little say in who the others are: one no more chooses their clanmates than they do their relatives. It is a structure of love by necessity — nothing else would be strong enough to keep cats so disparate together. Even when they do not like each other, even when tensions run high and clanmates stare at one another in suspicion and anger, there must still be love — else they are lost.
Unlike a family, the ties that bind, be they of respect or duty, are rarely strengthened by blood. One may forgive much from their family before it becomes too much, but few are so permissive of fellow warriors with whom they share nothing but a territory and a leader. A deliberate effort must be made to soothe stung prides and comfort deep yearnings. Unchecked, conflicts sour and dissent takes deep roots. Cats may slip out in the dark of night, becoming loners or traitors; but what of those who stand to lose too much by leaving? What may they do to right perceived wrongs and satisfy their displeasure?
As a lead warrior, it’s Snakeblink’s duty to deal with such situations — to anticipate and mitigate conflict, and to serve as guidance and counselor to clanmates in need. He is not necessarily very well-suited to the latter part, but he is nosy enough to make up for a lack of natural charisma and warmth: if others will not come to him with their troubles, he’ll simply have to go to them instead.
(That’s at least how he rationalizes it to himself. The truth is simpler. Snakeblink loves his clanmates like family: deeply, unwisely, unthinkingly. He desperately wants them to live well. Caring comes easy to him as a result; letting go when he must... not so much.)
But he has been remiss in his duty. A common source of whispered criticism and suspicion, the exiles Riverclan has taken in should by all rights be the first target of his affectionate meddling; yet, he has spent little time with either. After Hyacinthbreath’s banishment he cannot help but feel like some of it is his fault: if only she had felt more like a Riverclanner, to herself and to others—
What ifs will get him nowhere. With them weighing heavy on his mind, he instead turns to a more practical target. Boneripple already has blood tying her to the clan, kits born and raised in the river; but recent events being as they are, he would reassure her of her place among the clan. Just in case.
His plan was simple. Boneripple and him share a liking for the taste of frog. Though not a common Riverclan fare, they are found in the river, and what could be more Riverclan than wading into water to search for a tasty snack? Ergo, he invited her along to come fish for frogs in the shallow waters of the river, hoping the personal attention would be reassurance enough of her place in the clan. Stars forbid he actually has to use his words: he’s more likely to accidentally chase her out than convince her she is welcome here.
And he believes this plan would work, too — if only he could find any damn frog. Snakeblink peers through the reeds, thoroughly miffed: he’s found plenty of snails, but no other slimy prey has graced his presence so far.
”Have you any luck?” He calls out softly to Boneripple, glancing briefly at the monochromatic molly. ”I cannot seem to—”
Then, as if to prove him wrong: a flash of dark green as a frog, spooked by the sound of his voice, comes out of hiding and makes for the river. He pounces, but the damn thing jumps right through his paws and he only gets a splash of water in the face for his troubles as it dives under. He can see its squat body darting underwater, away from him… and towards Boneripple. A good swipe of her paw could fish the frog out as easy as any fish. ”There, quick— catch it!”
Unlike a family, the ties that bind, be they of respect or duty, are rarely strengthened by blood. One may forgive much from their family before it becomes too much, but few are so permissive of fellow warriors with whom they share nothing but a territory and a leader. A deliberate effort must be made to soothe stung prides and comfort deep yearnings. Unchecked, conflicts sour and dissent takes deep roots. Cats may slip out in the dark of night, becoming loners or traitors; but what of those who stand to lose too much by leaving? What may they do to right perceived wrongs and satisfy their displeasure?
As a lead warrior, it’s Snakeblink’s duty to deal with such situations — to anticipate and mitigate conflict, and to serve as guidance and counselor to clanmates in need. He is not necessarily very well-suited to the latter part, but he is nosy enough to make up for a lack of natural charisma and warmth: if others will not come to him with their troubles, he’ll simply have to go to them instead.
(That’s at least how he rationalizes it to himself. The truth is simpler. Snakeblink loves his clanmates like family: deeply, unwisely, unthinkingly. He desperately wants them to live well. Caring comes easy to him as a result; letting go when he must... not so much.)
But he has been remiss in his duty. A common source of whispered criticism and suspicion, the exiles Riverclan has taken in should by all rights be the first target of his affectionate meddling; yet, he has spent little time with either. After Hyacinthbreath’s banishment he cannot help but feel like some of it is his fault: if only she had felt more like a Riverclanner, to herself and to others—
What ifs will get him nowhere. With them weighing heavy on his mind, he instead turns to a more practical target. Boneripple already has blood tying her to the clan, kits born and raised in the river; but recent events being as they are, he would reassure her of her place among the clan. Just in case.
His plan was simple. Boneripple and him share a liking for the taste of frog. Though not a common Riverclan fare, they are found in the river, and what could be more Riverclan than wading into water to search for a tasty snack? Ergo, he invited her along to come fish for frogs in the shallow waters of the river, hoping the personal attention would be reassurance enough of her place in the clan. Stars forbid he actually has to use his words: he’s more likely to accidentally chase her out than convince her she is welcome here.
And he believes this plan would work, too — if only he could find any damn frog. Snakeblink peers through the reeds, thoroughly miffed: he’s found plenty of snails, but no other slimy prey has graced his presence so far.
”Have you any luck?” He calls out softly to Boneripple, glancing briefly at the monochromatic molly. ”I cannot seem to—”
Then, as if to prove him wrong: a flash of dark green as a frog, spooked by the sound of his voice, comes out of hiding and makes for the river. He pounces, but the damn thing jumps right through his paws and he only gets a splash of water in the face for his troubles as it dives under. He can see its squat body darting underwater, away from him… and towards Boneripple. A good swipe of her paw could fish the frog out as easy as any fish. ”There, quick— catch it!”
——————————————————————————————————— so god damn lonely
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@BONERIPPLE
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— Snakeblink • he / him. 42 ☾, riverclan warrior
— a sleek, skinny tabby with long ears and a scar over his right eye.
— gay, not actually evil, penned by @Kangoo
