- Jun 13, 2022
- 14
- 1
- 3
Why hadn’t he been at the battle?
It was a fair question, and one which Cow was reminded of every time he stepped into camp. The boy liked to think of himself as a lover rather than a fighter, but it seemed that position came at a cost. Perhaps his easygoing nature was the culprit, a belief that everything would work itself out in the end. However, looking around, it was clear that his belief hadn’t rung true.
Of all the cats there, the bovine seemed to be the only one who bore no malicious marks from that fateful day. The boy was usually proud of his good looks, but now the lack of any injury filled him with guilt. More than mere aesthetics, though, emerald eyes had noticed something else in camp. Or rather, a lack of something.
There were less cats than before.
Initially, Cow thought they must’ve just been badly injured; Compelled to stay away from camp for a time while twolegs tended to them. However, the empty eyes many of his clanmates seemed to suddenly possess confirmed the opposite. Still, the boneheaded boy chose to live in denial. After all, if he didn’t ask after their well-being, there was still a chance, right?
To that end, Cow had barely spent any time in camp recently. After all, who knew what horrendous hearsay could be overheard from those who didn’t know better? The boy preferred the woods now. There was no one to interfere with his fantasy there. That rustle in the bush? It was Haku, trying to stay in shape while he recovered. He’d be back soon. The shadow framed against the twoleg nest? Onceler, being pampered. Perhaps the prickly tom needed more time, but Cow was willing to wait.
He still hunted like the amount of mouths to feed hadn’t changed. Every day, the holstein hauled out some rotten prey from the pile. It had gone uneaten, but the waste was worth it. Who knew when their friends would be getting back, after all? Every day, the bonehead would wear the same smile and spout the same pickup lines in what few interactions he allowed for himself like nothing was amiss. Of course, in the back of his mind, the boy knew the truth. But if he asked about it? Or accepted it?
Then it would become final. And that would be like killing them all over again.
It was a fair question, and one which Cow was reminded of every time he stepped into camp. The boy liked to think of himself as a lover rather than a fighter, but it seemed that position came at a cost. Perhaps his easygoing nature was the culprit, a belief that everything would work itself out in the end. However, looking around, it was clear that his belief hadn’t rung true.
Of all the cats there, the bovine seemed to be the only one who bore no malicious marks from that fateful day. The boy was usually proud of his good looks, but now the lack of any injury filled him with guilt. More than mere aesthetics, though, emerald eyes had noticed something else in camp. Or rather, a lack of something.
There were less cats than before.
Initially, Cow thought they must’ve just been badly injured; Compelled to stay away from camp for a time while twolegs tended to them. However, the empty eyes many of his clanmates seemed to suddenly possess confirmed the opposite. Still, the boneheaded boy chose to live in denial. After all, if he didn’t ask after their well-being, there was still a chance, right?
To that end, Cow had barely spent any time in camp recently. After all, who knew what horrendous hearsay could be overheard from those who didn’t know better? The boy preferred the woods now. There was no one to interfere with his fantasy there. That rustle in the bush? It was Haku, trying to stay in shape while he recovered. He’d be back soon. The shadow framed against the twoleg nest? Onceler, being pampered. Perhaps the prickly tom needed more time, but Cow was willing to wait.
He still hunted like the amount of mouths to feed hadn’t changed. Every day, the holstein hauled out some rotten prey from the pile. It had gone uneaten, but the waste was worth it. Who knew when their friends would be getting back, after all? Every day, the bonehead would wear the same smile and spout the same pickup lines in what few interactions he allowed for himself like nothing was amiss. Of course, in the back of his mind, the boy knew the truth. But if he asked about it? Or accepted it?
Then it would become final. And that would be like killing them all over again.
