- Dec 27, 2022
- 348
- 49
- 28
➴➴ They failed.
They couldn’t protect their clan from all-consuming fire, couldn’t prevent Sunstar from losing his first life in an instant. They couldn’t stop DuskClan’s warriors from flooding into the camp, from slithering their way into the nursery like snakes in the night. Periwinklebreeze had lost his sister, his kit. Rattleheart had murdered one of the invading enemies, but Gravelsnap couldn’t even defend themself from Rumblerain, let alone anyone else. And that’s… that’s the worst part of it all. Everything that they care about is dying, and there is nothing they can do to stop it. Only moons ago, things had been going right—how had control slipped from their grasp so quickly? They feel set adrift by it all, disconnected from the events that have occurred around them. They can’t… do anything. They are helpless to change what’s happening. It feels as though StarClan itself has cursed them, and Gravelsnap can only take so much.
Their nest in the medicine den smells of lungwort. Not long ago they had laid in that nest and been given the lifesaving herb, just before they’d confessed their love for their closest friend and then said goodbye to him for what they thought was the final time. But they had survived, and fought their way through life—and though the weight is once again off their chest, they can’t help but wonder whether it will last. Periwinklebreeze knows their feelings, but the pointed queen has greater problems to worry about now. Will their love be pushed aside once again in favor of duty and grief? They shake their head, and the scent of lungwort fades. In its place the smell of marigold lingers, bitter and too-strong. Their wounds are coated in the foul-smelling herb, and Gravelsnap’s nose wrinkles at the scent.
They cannot linger in the medicine den. Hobbling awkwardly on three legs, the warrior manages to stagger out into the middle of camp before settling onto the ground. Here, lying in the mess that’s been made of their clan’s camp, Gravelsnap can stare blankly at the hole that Rumblerain’s entrance had poked into the gorse wall. They can’t even help patch it up, their injury tugging too much at achingly sore nerves. They can only look around and try to ignore the growing emotions that threaten to burst from their chest—but when they catch a certain calico-spotted figure staring at them, their ears swivel backward and they glare at the apprentice. "What… do you want?" They snap, their ear flicking irritably. They don’t have the patience for this, not today.
They couldn’t protect their clan from all-consuming fire, couldn’t prevent Sunstar from losing his first life in an instant. They couldn’t stop DuskClan’s warriors from flooding into the camp, from slithering their way into the nursery like snakes in the night. Periwinklebreeze had lost his sister, his kit. Rattleheart had murdered one of the invading enemies, but Gravelsnap couldn’t even defend themself from Rumblerain, let alone anyone else. And that’s… that’s the worst part of it all. Everything that they care about is dying, and there is nothing they can do to stop it. Only moons ago, things had been going right—how had control slipped from their grasp so quickly? They feel set adrift by it all, disconnected from the events that have occurred around them. They can’t… do anything. They are helpless to change what’s happening. It feels as though StarClan itself has cursed them, and Gravelsnap can only take so much.
Their nest in the medicine den smells of lungwort. Not long ago they had laid in that nest and been given the lifesaving herb, just before they’d confessed their love for their closest friend and then said goodbye to him for what they thought was the final time. But they had survived, and fought their way through life—and though the weight is once again off their chest, they can’t help but wonder whether it will last. Periwinklebreeze knows their feelings, but the pointed queen has greater problems to worry about now. Will their love be pushed aside once again in favor of duty and grief? They shake their head, and the scent of lungwort fades. In its place the smell of marigold lingers, bitter and too-strong. Their wounds are coated in the foul-smelling herb, and Gravelsnap’s nose wrinkles at the scent.
They cannot linger in the medicine den. Hobbling awkwardly on three legs, the warrior manages to stagger out into the middle of camp before settling onto the ground. Here, lying in the mess that’s been made of their clan’s camp, Gravelsnap can stare blankly at the hole that Rumblerain’s entrance had poked into the gorse wall. They can’t even help patch it up, their injury tugging too much at achingly sore nerves. They can only look around and try to ignore the growing emotions that threaten to burst from their chest—but when they catch a certain calico-spotted figure staring at them, their ears swivel backward and they glare at the apprentice. "What… do you want?" They snap, their ear flicking irritably. They don’t have the patience for this, not today.
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ooc: pls wait for @Brackenpaw!
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GRAVELSNAP ❯❯ they/he, moor runner of windclan
⭃ average-sized black and white warrior who seems smaller than he is. speaks rarely and quietly.
⭃ sibling to slateheart
⭃ mentoring sheeppaw
⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted
⭃ penned by foxlore
