- Feb 8, 2023
- 74
- 39
- 18
Proper soil rests under her paws' weight. The breeze tousling her jet-black pelt is no mere cave draught, but a great breath from the moors themselves. She inhales clean and uncorrupted air, and she exhales pure, long-drawn relief. Yellowcough's attempt on her life seems less significant with every moment spent in the waking world. For Moorpaw is alive, and she is well.
The abandoned badger sett would be fortunate to receive even a passing glance now, after the torment it wrought upon her body.
Certainty was a rare find in that disease-ridden cesspit, hanging on only one of two threads. An unpleasant end, steeped in sickness's grasp. Or, total salvation. Eternal rest among the stars held its appeal, for sure, but she had not the time nor patience for the path to get there.
Seeing how she's still here, she obviously went with the latter, and has since come to embrace her return as a new beginning. A clean slate. A fresh start, with a fresh set of lungs.
It does hurt her heart to ponder just how much she'd missed out on. Two-and-a-half moons she spent rotting beneath the earth. Her brothers don full and proud warrior's names, having proven their worth while she laid as good as dead. Knuckles tense at the notion of chasing the traitorous Badgermoon well beyond the territory's reaches, tail tucked so timidly between his legs. She wishes she could have been there to congratulate his successor on both coronations, one into deputyship and another into fatherhood. Not only that, but the births of all those kittens whose beady eyes she hasn't gazed upon. Stars, she's missed so, so much.
Patrols, she didn't quite mind missing, though the late Leaf-bare sun was certainly kinder to her than last season's model. Snow-kissed paws shuffle past the heather barrier, and the camp is graced with her presence once more.
"Oh, hi Bluepaw!"
Moorpaw's favourite sister lingers near the hollow's margin, and her pretty form happened to be the first thing her eyes laid upon. Her gait accelerates tenfold, and mere moments later, black meets blue in a tender nudge between shoulders. Tender, as in the thought behind the gesture. The actual contact was rather sudden. "What's this I hear about the moonstone? Some warriors were talking about it on the patrol... but in, like, quiet voices. Hush-hush, y'know." Her tone is strained, raw, yet to fully recover from the ample coughing fits. Unlike her recent patrolmates, whose whispers were kept carefully concealed. Didn't sound as though they spoke highly about the topic, from what little she'd heard.
// @BLUEPAW
The abandoned badger sett would be fortunate to receive even a passing glance now, after the torment it wrought upon her body.
Certainty was a rare find in that disease-ridden cesspit, hanging on only one of two threads. An unpleasant end, steeped in sickness's grasp. Or, total salvation. Eternal rest among the stars held its appeal, for sure, but she had not the time nor patience for the path to get there.
Seeing how she's still here, she obviously went with the latter, and has since come to embrace her return as a new beginning. A clean slate. A fresh start, with a fresh set of lungs.
It does hurt her heart to ponder just how much she'd missed out on. Two-and-a-half moons she spent rotting beneath the earth. Her brothers don full and proud warrior's names, having proven their worth while she laid as good as dead. Knuckles tense at the notion of chasing the traitorous Badgermoon well beyond the territory's reaches, tail tucked so timidly between his legs. She wishes she could have been there to congratulate his successor on both coronations, one into deputyship and another into fatherhood. Not only that, but the births of all those kittens whose beady eyes she hasn't gazed upon. Stars, she's missed so, so much.
Patrols, she didn't quite mind missing, though the late Leaf-bare sun was certainly kinder to her than last season's model. Snow-kissed paws shuffle past the heather barrier, and the camp is graced with her presence once more.
"Oh, hi Bluepaw!"
Moorpaw's favourite sister lingers near the hollow's margin, and her pretty form happened to be the first thing her eyes laid upon. Her gait accelerates tenfold, and mere moments later, black meets blue in a tender nudge between shoulders. Tender, as in the thought behind the gesture. The actual contact was rather sudden. "What's this I hear about the moonstone? Some warriors were talking about it on the patrol... but in, like, quiet voices. Hush-hush, y'know." Her tone is strained, raw, yet to fully recover from the ample coughing fits. Unlike her recent patrolmates, whose whispers were kept carefully concealed. Didn't sound as though they spoke highly about the topic, from what little she'd heard.
// @BLUEPAW